Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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Seahorse Island spread out before him like a hedge maze grown wild, bombarding Sanji’s senses with the smell of green, growing things and the songs of birds and insects clashing together in the treetops. The path required his full attention to follow, so despite the plethora of lifeforms surrounding him, Sanji kept his eyes trained on the ground. No way would he be the one to get lost; he’d never allow Zoro the satisfaction. Besides, that clingy mosshead would sooner kiss him than let him live that one down.

Sanji pushed the thought aside. They could do that later. Right now he needed to focus on catching more food than Zoro did so he could prepare it for the next leg of their journey. In a jungle like this, there had to be some pretty big animals prowling around, right?

The problem was that they all seemed to be avoiding him to the best of their ability, and Sanji didn’t intend to go climbing up a tree or crawling into a burrow after them. He hadn’t gotten that desperate, not yet anyway.

Intense buzzing met Sanji’s ears, and he ducked, skirting around a hornet’s nest bigger than Brook’s afro. He whispered a stream of curses as he went on his way, keeping his hands in his pockets and regretting not taking that ridiculous bug net hat Usopp had offered him. As long as spiders didn’t start dropping down onto him from the trees again, everything would be fine.

Sanji craned his neck, scanning his surroundings for broken branches, crushed undergrowth, anything to signify the passing of a large animal. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something up above him. Peering at it, Sanji realized it was a sort of tangle of vines and branches, almost as if something had tied a complicated knot–

The ground underneath his right foot fell away as he put weight on it. Sanji teetered, pinwheeling his arms, making his best effort to not fall over.

Please, no, this suit is new!

Amidst his frantic struggle, Sanji felt something jab into his right ankle. Cursing even more ferociously, he yanked his foot out of the offending pit and walked briskly away, ignoring the insistent pain in his foot as he went.

That is, until a wave of dizziness crept up his back and flooded his head.

Sanji put a hand out, leaning heavily on the trunk of the nearest tree. The vertigo grew worse, his vision spinning like a top. He panted, suddenly hot and sweating in his thick clothing. A thought made it to the front of his mind, fighting for its very life. Sanji ignored the fresh wave of light-headedness, crouching down to inspect his throbbing ankle.

Up close he could see blood staining his sock, bright red splashed in between the black of his pantleg and shoe. The source was a thorn, no larger than his thumbnail, halfway embedded into the meat around his ankle bone.

This must be it, he thought, gripping it between two fingertips and pulling it out. Holding it up, Sanji could see the hollow cavity in the spine where some sort of venom must’ve been stored before it all got pumped into his foot. Gritting his teeth and letting it fall to the ground, Sanji braced himself against the tree in an effort to stand up again. His legs quaked, sweat beaded and ran down his skin; it was impossible to move. He tried harder, envisioning the walk back and heart pumping at top speed, but Sanji's body wouldn't budge no matter how much he strained. 

Sanji gasped for breath, suddenly unsure if his lungs still worked right or if the air had gone sour. He realized his certainty in his ability to recover might've been denial about the true crisis situation now unfolding. Looking up, Sanji blinked furiously up at the sky, trying to judge the time of day from the angle and tint of the sunlight. But even the brightest bits of sky he could see looked dim, the edges of the tree trunks fuzzing out when he tried to focus on them. 

Shit, it's fucking with my eyesight too! Gotta get back, gotta see Chopper, gotta… find Zoro.

Green hair and a scowl that said so much and hid even more flashed in his mind’s eye, growing more prominent every time the image faded back in. A shaky smile wobbled on Sanji’s lips as his mind slid Zoro’s clothes off for him, laying him bare and ready for him to–

Crack!

Sanji spun, not very fast, but the movement nearly sent him crashing to the forest floor. With more difficulty than he expected, Sanji pushed away all thoughts of Zoro, cringing as he glanced around. He’d neglected to pay attention to his surroundings, and now this accursed jungle was about to punish him for it. Unsteady on his feet, he looked around, shivers running down his spine as he realized that almost every patch of foliage and ground cover near him rustled and shook with unseen occupants. Sanji tried to tell himself the noises weren't getting louder, weren't getting closer, that his paranoia created enemies who weren't there. 

His eyes, though impaired, still widened in horror as several armored heads the size of baseballs emerged from the canopy and the underbrush, antenna waving as they all made a beeline for him. Their sleek bodies, although armored like a beetle's, were wider and thinner, ending in a point like a cockroach's. They ranged in size from a cat as smallest and a goat as the very biggest. The soft clacking of their joints as they skittered over bark and dead leaves almost made Sanji sick right then and there. He pressed himself against the tree for support, daring to close his eyes in the desperate hope that these creatures would simply pass on by.

They did not.

He yelled the instant the first one touched him with its gripping feet that prickled like the sharp corners of balled-up paper. Sanji tried to kick it away, but with his injured ankle and utter lack of stabilization, it fizzled into the most pathetic attack he’d ever attempted. He groaned, unable to defend himself, resting his pounding head against the tree, and listened to the movement of creatures with too many legs around him. The strange thing, he reflected, was that he was more okay with this situation than he thought he normally would be.

Maybe Luffy and Usopp’s mad obsession with creepy-crawlies had, by some twist, started wearing off on him? Or maybe it was the venom, if venom had been the only substance in that damn thorn. Speaking of which, Sanji knew the trouble was mounting when more of those velcro-hands caught him in their grasp–and he didn’t even care that much.

The barrier he’d constructed to keep out lewd images of Zoro had broken repeatedly, so even when those horrendous monsters laid their ugly little claws on him, Sanji found himself lost in a fantasy featuring Zoro’s chest as the main event.

Sanji huffed out heavy breath after heavy breath, still putting up a feeble resistance when he could summon the willpower for it. His daydreams—so vivid he could practically see them better than his actual surroundings—took a hard turn that ignited his blood and pooled tantalizing heat in his stomach. Zoro blushing, Zoro begging, Zoro spread out beneath him, so relaxed and full and his. Sanji indulged in a slow, deep push in, just to hear the delicious sound it would draw out of Zoro, along with the soft, wet noise his dick made as Zoro's hole took it up to the hilt, pulsing with both of their heartbeats.

And something else, too. Sanji could feel something pass out of him, see it form a separate bulge in Zoro’s belly. He hadn’t come yet, and that had felt… different. Confused, he looked up at Zoro’s blissed-out face just as he felt another mysterious release from his body and into Zoro’s.

Wait… W-what’s happening to me?

Alarm abruptly washed the scene away, dumping him back with the rough bark pressing into his shoulders, the bristling paper-cut limbs holding him fast, his own useless body, and the distinct pang of more needle-like stingers piercing through his clothes and skin and flooding his bloodstream.

A ringing started up in Sanji’s ears while his vision blurred and distorted. A strange clamminess swept through him. He no longer felt like he was overheating, but rather as if he were submerged in room-temperature gel. Spasms made him twitch sporadically. The scratchy claws of the giant insects held him in place through it all, keeping him upright and relatively still. Their chittering and grinding mandibles worked, and through the haze altering his perception, Sanji could almost make out words from the sounds and movements.

“Just a little longer now…”

His insides felt loose and gooey, every hint of tension slipping away as his muscles relaxed. Wave after wave of numbness washed through his. Distantly, Sanji could sense his organs reshuffling under his skin, which itself hardened until it matched the strength of the exoskeletons gleaming around him.

The thought caused him discomfort. His skin was meant to be soft and mammalian, not cold, unfeeling armor. Sanji groaned, lifting his head even though it weighed more than a large cannonball. He had to get out, he had to stop this before it went too far and he… turned inhuman. But dozens of shiny tarsi dug into his clothes, holding him fast like a butterfly in a spider’s web.

Sanji knew he couldn’t run now even if they weren’t trapping him. He let his head sink back, listening to the eager conversations of the creatures.

He felt like liquid. Like if he moved more than a little he’d splash onto the ground. Sanji floated, completely dissolved, feeling himself stretch and flow as he disassembled. His head turned mushy, dulling the fear, even the lust from moments ago. A single word drifted by his awareness in its new swampy state, each letter coming into focus before passing on by.

M-e-t-a-m-o-r-p-h-o-s-i-s.

Sanji gasped when air hit his newly reformed respiration system.

He blinked, not used to the way colors and shapes now oriented themselves through his compound eyes. A fresh spell of nausea hit him as soon as his antennae unfurled from the crown of his head, the flood of electro-chemical signals overwhelming his struggling brain.

The claws released him. Sanji put his full weight back on his feet, swaying slightly at the discovery of a second knee joint in his legs. He steadied himself, looking around at the waiting crowd of insects.

They wiggled their antennae and flexed their mandibles, indicating the pheromone trail leading off into the jungle. He understood. It was time to move, to begin the next step. Sanji nodded, and headed off to follow it, his companions scurrying alongside him. Still dazed, he turned his head every which way, tasting the air with an expert pallet, drinking in how his senses bled into one another. He flexed his new body, too, noticing how his muscles worked a little differently now. Sanji couldn't put it into comprehensible words, only the thought that he felt like he matched with the insides of the countless shellfish he'd cracked open and cleaned seemed to come close. Smiling, he admired the dappled sunlight that played over his shimmering, iridescent blue armor.

Sanji curled his fingers, lifting his hands up to inspect them–and froze.

Five contorted digits confronted him, located in slightly different positions. His joints were accented by small pieces of exoskeleton that folded with his movement, always protecting the vulnerable flesh underneath. His fingers extended far longer than they had before, twisted into sharp points at the ends instead of human nails.

Horror rooted him to the ground. He’d never cook again. How could he hold anything properly? Unless he re-learned everything in this new form–

A sharp jab at his legs and an impatient chitter brought Sanji back into himself. Or, hold on, had he just left again?

The chemical signals crowding his senses wheeled around in his brain, flagging meanings he knew innately. Hurry hurry! Hunt prey, trap the quarry. Sanji's legs itched, primed and ready. The fog from earlier cleared under the barrage of potent messages, allowing him to push off the trunk he didn't need anymore. As he tested his center of balance with his tingling legs, a spike of something different drove through the other pheromones. A sweet promise of pleasure so great drool slid out from between Sanji’s lips, the faint traces of booze and choji oil marbling the air. 

Sanji spread his hands out on either side of him, taking step after step, his companions rushing ahead of him in their excitement. Curious, he touched his forehead, gently pulling down the two antennae he found there so he could inspect them. Surprised, he noticed they were segmented with bushy fronds at their curled ends–he hadn't been able to feel that information. Letting them go, he ran his pointy fingertips over his face, touching his eyes with no issue. It occurred to Sanji that he hadn't blinked in a long time. Faint shock jolted through him as he bent brittle joints around a human nose and lips instead of mandibles. Maybe that wasn't all bad, after all, now Sanji knew he could kiss Zoro when they secured him.

His confidence grew with each step forward he took, until Sanji strode along perfectly at ease with his changed self. He craned his neck to look up again, and this time the treetops looked crystal clear, each individual leaf crisp and defined. Sanji knew he could reach them, the power coiled like springs in his legs, no haki needed. He might even be able to fly soon too, if the tell-tale pains and stretching sensations in his shoulders meant wings were growing there.

Sanji whistled a merry tune as he followed the sparking pheromone pathway, looking forward to effortless flight. It would be so easy to travel, no boats or trudging through muck necessary. If he wanted to, Sanji could leap into the upper branches and race the wind around this entire island–and even further! 

But he stayed on the ground. He wanted Zoro more.

Sanji sped up, and his new friends matched his pace. They’d help him get what he wanted. They’d lay the perfect trap, set the bait and settle in for their oblivious target to inevitably fall into it.

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Zoro brushed away frond after frond of thick, spreading leaves, wondering why the hell someone would use a path that seemed to go through every single bush in this whole damn jungle. He’d decided about a few hundred plants ago that this was all Sanji’s fault. Damn cook shouldn’t have gotten lost in this stupid, overgrown rainforest. Zoro grumbled complaints to himself as he hacked his way forward, thinking about how he could be taking a nice nap on the Sunny’s lawn right about now.

Bursting out the other side from his latest batch of brushy victims, Zoro stood blinking in the sudden glare of sunlight. He shaded his eye with one sweaty arm, squinting.

A verdant clearing opened up in front of him, lush grass rippling and all manner of young trees and wildflowers unfurling new growth. Almost all the way on the opposite edge sat Sanji, his back to Zoro as he crouched over something with intense concentration. Zoro began walking forward, staring at the cook’s legs–for once, he was genuinely thinking about something besides how it’d feel to have them crush his skull.

They looked wrong, somehow, like they were folded one too many times. But from this distance Zoro still couldn’t tell if it were just the moving shadows of rustling leaves and the silky shininess of Sanji’s pants playing tricks on him. Something was very, very wrong. Sanji hadn’t moved a single muscle, not even to yell insults back at him.

What the hell? Zoro stuck out his foot to close the distance, impatient to rouse the cook and bring them both back to the ship already.

“Curly!” he called as he stepped up to stand a few paces behind Sanji. “What are you doing out here? Did Mr. Smartass finally get lo– agh!” Zoro yelled as his boot struck something in the tall grass. He stumbled, managing to keep his balance. This time, his haki thrummed a warning, sharpening his awareness and sending energy shooting down his limbs. Zoro’s hands flew to grab his sword hilts, but they didn’t go fast enough.

A high whirring from several different places started all at once, dividing his attention between at least a dozen different places in the surrounding trees and the small sea of grass he stood in. When he tried to draw his blades out, his hands wouldn’t budge.

Zoro looked down to see thin, silvery strands binding his fist where it gripped Kitetsu. His eye widened, and flicked up to Sanji again, who had begun to rise slowly to his feet. He could see two long tendrils that curled at their tips rising from Sanji’s skull, almost like he’d turned into a weird Skypiean. He tried to run at the cook, or away from him, or simply move at all, but he couldn’t. Those same silky threads held fast to every part of his body, binding him in a web stronger than steel.

“C-Curly? What’s going on? What are– what happened to you!?” Zoro’s voice pitched higher than he wanted it to, betraying his fear.

Helpless to do anything else, he watched as Sanji approached, bangs hanging down to cover both his eyes. His legs did indeed have something off about them–now Zoro noticed two knees pressing into Sanji’s pant legs instead of one, creating odd angles. He could hear the strange new joints clicking softly as Sanji approached. Another noise caught his attention, too. Soft, gasping sobs. Zoro caught his breath, immediately wishing he hadn’t heard anything. If Sanji was crying, then that meant something truly atrocious must have happened to him.

Zoro stared at the twin tear streaks on Sanji’s face and his fear faded. He would protect his nakama, no matter what.

Sanji staggered, interrupting his steady advance. His hair shifted, and Zoro saw his new eyes for the first time. They glittered and spun with fractal designs, dozens of hexagonal lenses reflecting his own figure back at him in miniature. Sanji gazed back at him, curly eyebrows scrunched together in clear distress. In a series of jolting movements, he reached out to Zoro, giving him a clear view of his hands. The flesh had stretched and gnarled into long segments resembling the stems of woody shrubs. At the same time, and perhaps unconsciously, Sanji’s antennae unfurled to brush their feathery ends over his head and shoulders before his hands could even grab him.

“Oh… Sanji. Who did this to you? Let me go so I can kick their ass–” Zoro broke off as Sanji hugged him, the bubbling anger dying down and mixing with dismay. He wished he could break free, he needed to move so he could hold Sanji in his arms too. “Hey, it’s alright. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

“… I wasn’t expecting them. They laid a trap for me, like they did with you, these horrible, gross bug things that went and made me horrible and disgusting and… my hands, Zoro, my hands.” Sanji’s voice–which had an extra, buzzing quality to it–drowned in a rush of sobs that shook his chest.

Zoro hooked his chin over Sanji’s shoulder and pressed, holding him at least a little that way. He waited for Sanji to finish crying before nudging him with his forehead, hoping desperately to do something, anything, to be able to help just a little more.

“What will make it stop?” he murmured, sensing Sanji stiffen slightly as he registered Zoro’s words. He brought his head up from where he’d tucked it against Zoro’s shoulder, looking at him with those novel, glittering eyes.

“This.” Sanji leaned forward, slotting his lips with Zoro’s while laying an elongated hand on his neck with the utmost care.

Zoro closed his eye, leaning into the kiss to the best of his ability. When he felt Sanji’s other hand curling itself around his inner thigh, he began to understand what needed to happen. Pushing his apprehension aside–he never let fear win–Zoro took a deep, calming breath. Straining against the binding web as much as he could, Zoro pushed his hips down onto Sanji’s hand. It brushed against the front of his pants with tantalizing friction. Sanji noticed his response and moved to press his thumb over Zoro’s dick, the rest of his fingers stretching back between his legs, cradling his balls and exploring the space beyond until one lucky press summoned a deep moan from Zoro’s chest.

I’ll make sure you go back to normal, Curls. I’ll save you and your hands, so you can cook again just like always.

Sanji separated their lips; they both gasped for air. Zoro looked at him and opened his mouth, about to put his resolve into words, but he never got the chance.

A pained gasp escaped him instead as Sanji lunged quick as lightning, and bit his neck. He didn't remember so many of Sanji's teeth being this sharp; they pierced Zoro's skin in at least two places. Had whatever change Sanji had gone through sunk as deep as his bones? He tried to follow this line of thinking, puzzle out what that could mean, but something else distracted him, some one very close to him. Zoro’s eyelid fluttered as Sanji’s lips sucked around the bite mark, soft and wet and addictively skillful.

Zoro’s concerns from moments ago vanished in a tide of heat overtaking his body. The jungle, the web trapping him, even thoughts about trying to use his swords to get free all faded into indistinct static at the back of his mind, while Sanji took center stage. Zoro sagged into the silvery threads binding him, enjoying having his heartbeat so close to the surface for Sanji to touch, to clamp in his bite. He picked up a faint pulsing from Sanji’s teeth as well, and imagined a bright amber honey gushing through his veins, making him feel all tingly and so, so good.

His jaw hung limp, no longer able to regulate what kinds of sounds came out his throat. Zoro moaned as Sanji’s fingers rolled against him, teasing his hardening dick and occasionally brushing over his taint and his hole. Zoro wanted to grind down on his hand hard enough to rip his pants, which seemed increasingly threadbare and flimsy.

But despite his best efforts, all he could manage were the smallest of thrusts that did not give anywhere near what he wanted. Zoro whined, tossing his head in distress—and dissatisfaction.

In answer, Sanji withdrew his fangs from Zoro’s neck, nosing back up to his face. This time, when his tongue slid into Zoro’s pliant mouth, Sanji tasted of blood and a tangy sweetness. His vision fuzzed out for a few seconds as the strange flavor rushed straight to his head, filling it to overflowing with oozing, dripping gold. By the time Zoro gained some awareness back, his mouth was even fuller.

A long, thin tongue—a strange tube of flesh resembling insectile straw–like mouths—coiled in loops around Zoro’s tongue. It had extra length left to explore the roof of his mouth, between his teeth and lips, even daring to venture down his throat. Zoro panted, his lips lifting in an eager smile into Sanji’s as they gave him more delicious ministrations. Just as he thought Sanji might just keep him like that forever, he drew away, his prehensile tongue following him and… and snaking over shoulder, under the hem of his robe, and steadily down his back. No longer half-gagged, Zoro groaned loud as the tip of Sanji’s spit-slicked tongue traced the line down his ass to find his entrance and start circling it with purposeful strength.

A chittering sound tickled the back of his neck, Sanji’s hot breath making the skin there flush. His voice sounded like crickets' song interspersed with clicks and crackling sounds Zoro couldn’t fathom how Sanji uttered, but it must’ve meant something to someone. The silky ropes around him loosened their bindings, easing him down to the grassy earth in a slow recline.

Zoro let himself sink, glad to have Sanji over him. He didn’t have to think; he could just relax and let Sanji’s long fingers and the funny spiderweb stuff wrap around his limbs and guide him into the right position. Sanji pulled his haramaki up until it wrapped around him just under his pecs, tighter than usual but not so much that Zoro was uncomfortable. On the contrary, it reminded him of a hug. Before his legs and hips came to settle on the ground, those same, nimble fingers hooked into the waist of his pants and yanked them down. Zoro lost track of them after they were cast aside, his full attention on Sanji and how much he needed him.

Zoro’s robe splayed out under him, forming a cushion from the springy grass. Sanji followed him down, placing his knees on either side of Zoro and pressing them together heart to heart. The instant he felt Sanji’s weight Zoro put his arms out, desperately hanging on to any wrinkle he could find in Sanji’s clothing.

“Clingy marimo. Stop growing on me.” Sanji rasped, the words so familiar that Zoro almost didn’t question the unnatural reverberations lurking behind them.

Zoro giggled, the strangeness sending a disproportionately–huge surge of serotonin through his brain. He dug in his fingernails harder, as his hands hastily clambered up to rest their palms on Sanji’s back for security. For reassurance. So he could pull Sanji back to him if he ever tried to go away.

But Sanji made no move to leave, merely bending to press his lips against every inch of Zoro’s flushed chest. Zoro arched his spine into the kisses, reveling in the way Sanji’s adoring face and his own tits took up the entirety of his field of vision. 

Sanji glanced up at him, looking, as far as Zoro could tell, like he was calculating something. An instant later he glided one of his hands over to Zoro's lips, nudging at the corners. Zoro licked at his spidery fingers a few times before letting them slip into his mouth. Saliva pooled around them as they pressed on his tongue and traced the rows of his teeth, the excess drooling down his chin. 

Too soon Sanji pulled his hand away, leaving Zoro's mouth gaping at the emptiness. Sanji made up for it by pinching Zoro's nipple with his other hand, rolling it with a steady rhythm. Zoro sucked in a breath. The twinges of pain added a thrill to the hot, gooey goodness spilling through him that Zoro craved. His mind floated so free and blank, and his entire body melted from its own fiery pleasure. Sanji could give him more, though. Zoro wanted to be inseparable from Sanji, to be so close they became indistinguishable.

His body twitched when Sanji slid two thin fingertips into him, warm and slippery from his own spit. He experimented with the angles and directions of his motions until he found something Zoro liked. Zoro squirmed a little; the spit wasn't quite enough to mask the rough texture of Sanji's fingers. His dick jumped at a particularly hard brush against the sensitive flesh of his hole, that pain mingling with pleasure as well, almost overwhelming him. Sanji grinned into his next kiss at the chorus of long sighs and hums from deep in his throat, tingling at his lips with their bass tone. He twisted Zoro's nipple viciously whenever he grew bored of the gentle sounds, rewarding himself with a loud cry dragging out of Zoro's throat.

Zoro fought to retain some agency, only caring that he’d gotten loose enough for all four of Sanji’s fingers. Impatient, he shoved his hips upward, grinding his dripping dick against where Sanji’s still strained inside his pants.

Sanji paused in his worship of Zoro’s chest, unzipping his fly to free it, and lowered his hips to meet with Zoro’s. He wrapped one hand around both of their cocks, swiping their precome with his thumb and spreading it down their lengths. Sanji also, to Zoro’s irritation, took his other hand out of his hole so he could better slick them down. When he was satisfied Sanji clenched their dicks in one fist, making sure he wouldn't lose his grip. Zoro growled, about to complain that Sanji was taking too much time and that he should stop dragging this out if he ever wanted his human hands back.

That thought and anything else abruptly fled his mind, however, as Sanji thrust into his fist, lighting up all of Zoro’s nerves at the stimulation. His neck curved backward, and he let out a grunt the same instant he heard Sanji moan softly above him. Several more followed in quick succession, as if Sanji couldn’t resist, leaving them both breathless and blissed-out. Zoro recovered first.

“J–just put it i– in already.” he huffed.

“N–no, I c–can’t… if I do you’ll… I’ll– uhn!” Sanji’s head dropped, and his whole body trembled.

“Sanji?” Zoro asked, concern piercing its way through the fog of pleasure in his mind. He heard Sanji mumble a response but couldn’t make out what it was. He felt Sanji release their dicks from his clenched fist, and bit his lip when the head of Sanji’s cock pressed up to his entrance. The muffling brain fog closed in again, setting Zoro adrift from his worries once more.

Sanji pushed in slowly, and Zoro enjoyed the stretch, fireworks going off in his gut from the sensation of being so, so full. He moaned again when Sanji started moving in and out, and after he tilted his thrusts slightly to ram into his prostate over and over, Zoro stopped thinking about what noises he was making completely. His entire world consisted of heat and breath and ecstasy.

Just as his pleasure peaked, the power and speed Sanji fucked him with lessened. Annoyance pricked him. Zoro knew full well what Sanji’s thighs were capable of; he’d experienced the aftermath they wrought plenty of times.

“Oi.” Zoro lifted his head, indignant at the sudden drop in stimulation. “What are you doing?”

Sanji didn’t respond right away. Yellow locks of hair tickled Zoro’s chest from where his head hung, hiding Sanji’s expression and blocking Zoro’s view of the rest of him. Now that he paid more attention, Zoro noticed how the mixture of spit and precome slicking his hole grew increasingly more viscous, the reason for Sanji’s slowing thrusts. And for some reason, Sanji’s dick was losing its heat. The decrease in temperature couldn’t have been significant, but, while surrounded by Zoro’s burning, aroused body, the difference became prominent. And now that he paid attention, it did feel a little… off. Smoother and longer than he knew it should be. A shape, it dawned on him, that no human had. The chill spread through Zoro now, only getting worse as Sanji started speaking.

“Your body… I– they need a nest. Nurturing host. Birthed by alien flesh. Eggs cradled by silken lovers until they are ready to hatch. Fear not. This won’t hurt.” The unfamiliar tone had almost completely subsumed Sanji’s normal voice, and when he placed his hands by Zoro’s head to gaze down at him, his eyes glittered, cold and empty as ice.

“Hey, cook! Wha– what’s happeni– mmph!” Sanji’s mouth closed over Zoro’s, silencing his protests. More delectable nectar seeped into his mouth, dulling the alarm that had flared up so quick. Mind numbed, Zoro sank back into the grass, letting Sanji play around in his mouth with that long, flexible tongue.

“Sshhh, it’s okay. Just take it slow. You’ll be alright, my dumb little mosshead.” he crooned into Zoro’s ear as he ruffled the green hair growing around it.

The smile Sanji gave him seemed very wide to Zoro, but he didn’t know what that meant. He knew only Sanji, his tongue, the soft blanket of silk covering them both, and the strange periodic thickening of Sanji’s cock. Distantly, Zoro became aware of a bubbly sensation in his abdomen, a ticklish sort of swelling. Almost like the time they rode inside those bubbles, except these were smaller, gelatinous orbs that seethed and teemed with new life.

⌾⌾⌾

Robin’s expedition log: XX-XX-XXXX

Subject: The strange creature who hijacked two crewmembers

Nothing seemed astray on Seahorse Island at first, even the absences of our ship’s first mate and cook did not alarm anyone, for this was a regular occurrence. However when darkness fell and they still had not returned, alarm spread through the crew, and a new wariness for this lush island rose as well. So we set out in search for our missing crew members, despite the late hour. 

The night had gotten far later when, eventually, we located them.

What we found in that clearing will haunt our minds for many years to come, as surely it will haunt our dear friends. They lay in a roughly circular clearing, lit by the light of a moon nearly full. At first glance they appeared to be a huge, beautiful flower, but a second of further inspection revealed its true horror.

Zoro lay flat on the grassy forest floor in serene repose, with Sanji over him. The two were unmoving, frozen in the middle of a passionate kiss, their moment of pleasure preserved from the ravages of time better than any artifact. And that was due to the fine layer of glistening silk which shrouded every inch of their form. Its delicate thread strung between their limbs and heads, winding around their bodies, and pressing in close.

The silk thickened where it covered Sanji’s back, shedding its transparency to blossom into colorful petals. They were like wings, spreading out behind him in graceful arches, glimmering with bright patterns even by night. The night air stirred them slightly, as if they were hair ruffled by a soft breath, creating the illusion of life.

As we moved closer, more changes became apparent. Long antennae that curled at the ends sprouted from Sanji’s forehead, now stiff where they bent around Zoro’s face. His eyes were closed and his mouth locked onto Zoro’s, but I suspected that they may have acquired insectile qualities as well. I make this judgement on what we, with definite misfortune, saw of their joined pelvises. For the sake of a thorough record I will elaborate, but only somewhat. As our ship’s doctor can attest, their bodies had been morphed to facilitate a mode of reproduction completely different than a human’s. This is why our foremost working theory is that something–likely an unknown insect of some kind–injected or bit them with venom that had the capacity to cause such changes as part of its life cycle.

In any case, after getting over the shock, we realized how impossible it was to move our crewmates in their paralysis. So we opted to stay by them. Franky built temporary shelters for them and for us, as none of us particularly wanted to disrupt whatever intimate phenomenon was occurring between them. We took turns in shifts of at least two of us, although most often three or four of us would sit by them at a time.

Chopper monitored them closely. He would place a small, double-sided mirror between their noses to check that they still breathed, along with carefully attending to the growing bulge in Zoro’s abdomen. At first all he could detect were many round shapes pressing out from inside the swordsman, and then he said he felt movement of some living, prenatal things under the layers of skin, fat, and muscle.

A hatching had taken place within our crewmate’s body. What worried us was the next step. Nami and I read up on parasitic lifeforms; most of which have young that erupt from the bodies of their hosts by brute force, mutilating it in the process.

For most of the week we spent waiting and watching in pensive agony, this was the reality looming over our heads. However a development on the fifth day lifted our spirits with hope. During one of his frequent examinations, Chopper discovered something. An ‘exit’ for those creatures had begun to take form on Zoro’s lower abdomen, splitting it vertically. Upon closer inspection he confirmed it as a new orifice distinguished by raised, slightly calloused skin.

Welcome relief, if tinged by squeamishness, brightened our outlook on the chances of survival our friends had. And in the next two days, we received our answer.

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Chapter Text

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Robin’s expedition log continued 

[Special section for ship doctor’s input]

Check ups have all gone pretty much without incident, except for the time on day 8 when Luffy asked if we could make omelets out of the egg babies. I blame Usopp for using the phrase ‘letting them bake’ when explaining their development to him. Of course he would think that meant they were food!

So, as the one with experience being the ‘emergency rations’ to these heathens, I did my best to argue for the lives of the little ones. Luckily Robin agreed, and everyone seemed to side with me after that! What finally convinced Luffy was when Brook said they were basically nakama by proxy since they are technically the children of two crew members. Even the thought of delicious omelets (that I don’t think Sanji would want to cook anyway) couldn’t stand up to that. Besides, at that point it was already over halfway over.

At around 11am on the seventh day of waiting the undefined fibers started to melt. The sun did not shine brighter, nor was the day even that hot, but all the same those myriad threads sagged and fell away. In some cases, such as the growth on Sanji’s back–right around his scar from Doctorine’s surgery–the silk was observed merging with him. Before our eyes it transformed back into flesh, covered over with skin and even cloth on top of that.

It was unlike anything that I’ve ever seen! Even after studying medicine in so many different places, I barely had any knowledge of what to prepare for treatment. I had no idea how the majority of the medicines I could make would react to whatever substances were present in their bodies, so I stuck with basic ones that had no history of side effects or were known for being inert when mixed with most other things.

I was unsure, and scared for them, but thankfully my approach seemed to not do any harm, at least. I couldn’t administer strong painkillers, but after they stayed in the infirmary for almost two weeks, it didn’t seem like they felt much pain. Perhaps those strange, chittering animals that emerged from Zoro released some kind of numbing agent themselves.

I can’t exactly ask them myself, though, as they all fled into the forest as soon as they entered the world. As for Zoro and Sanji, well, I don’t want to force them to relive this by pressing them for specifics, and besides, their memories seemed heavily affected anyway. It took a while, but they’re finally getting close to recovering fully now! Whatever changes done to them had reverted back almost completely at this stage, and their mental faculties got clearer each day too.

That being said, I’m sure it won’t be long until they’ll insist that “they’re fine” and march out the door only to hurt themselves again! I’ll have to enlist some bodyguards to help enforce infirmary authority around here… but for now, they’re both resting peacefully. Strangely enough, they’re still laying down side by side. I even saw them holding hands, with Sanji’s arms wrapping around Zoro’s neck from behind. I really hope they don’t start yelling at each other when they wake up like that, it’s no one’s fault they simply moved near each other in their sleep every time I tried putting them in separate cots. At this point I’ve given up and pushed two together for them.

Aside from that future mess, the case of the mysterious body-morphing insect has been resolved. If their clutch of bug-babies don’t come looking for them, that is... Going forward I think we need to stock up on bug spray.

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