Archive of Our Own ^beta

The Galaxy holds the world in tandem, caresses it with its gaze, and overflows it far too often with its entire being. It shines in a multicoloured fashion, pleasing to everyone’s eyes, an identity formed in perception. The Galaxy can see everything, the Sun, the Moon, the Stars, at least it believes it can. Its gaze is spread far and wide, its soul more so. Stretched along for everyone to see, for no one to truly perceive. And yet for how much it may be stretched there will always be more of it. The Galaxy is endless, some say there’s too much, some say there’s not enough. But no one ever says that its amount is just right. And all the Galaxy has ever wanted, was to be just right. The Galaxy will always want to be enough, that perfect amount, but everyone’s perception of perfect is different. But will the Galaxy ever admit that it’s imperfection has always be enough?

Sanji loves his mother. Many would think that one would say loved, as Soras life was in the past. But the memories of her lived with Sanji in the present, and would breathe in the eternity of the future yet to come. Sara cradled Sanjis soul in tandem, and forever more he would do the same for her.

Whenever Sanji looked at a woman, the emotions of his past would rise up in his throat. An innate desperation born from sacrifice, an anxious plea of biology, the adoration akin to the love halted by Hanahaki. He longed to give their souls delight, to see them all shine in the sea that was humanity.

To Sanji, a woman was the epitome of divinity. Omegas came close to that angelic beauty, but as it stood now, Sanji hated himself too much to put his soul on that high of a pedestal. Fate may have not shined upon his mother’s end, its prophecy may have seen her demise in full, but her existence would always leave a lasting mark upon his soul.

Women granted him the ability to look upon that mark. Their mere presence was enough to sate the devastation in his soul and bring forth the light of creation. How could he not appreciate them, not revere the beings that brought life to this wretched reality. Sora saved Sanji, she broke his soul free from the cage his father did try to bind him in.

Sanji loves women, they are the epitome of creation, the bringers of his salvation, and the only beings to ever look at his soul and not hate him for they found.
Sanji loves women, that will always be a fact.

Sanji loves cooking. To him it has always been a rhythmic dance that represented the complexity of ones soul, an art blessed by the gods of creation. To the world it was simply a necessity required for the survival that was life. Though it was still a necessity for Sanji, just one that fell under the lights in the sea of desecration.

Cooking was one of the only ways Sanji felt his mother’s presence smiling down upon him. It almost felt like a ritual at times. He did not need to win Soras favour, but he offered his food in sacrifice all the same. Her approval was his salvation, and the sustenance it granted fuelled the fires in his heart.

Food itself was also deserving of his adoration, the result of cooking, the result of love turned labour. To see the world accept his food as gospel made Sanji feel as if he belonged if only for a moment. Recognized for his skill, and not the mold the world wanted to keep him boxed up in.

Sanji felt akin to that box at times, its facets often felt like hope. But there was shame in how much he enjoyed what the world saw as weakness. Cooking would always be his passion, even before presentation it was the object of his dreams. That dream didn’t grow stronger after presentation, its strength was mighty to begin with. But it did gain something, there was no word to describe it, no way other than to just say the outright truth.

Sanji loves cooking, it was always the object of his dreams, the wishes of his mother’s love, and a way to indulge in his instincts without fear of exposing his omegan identity.
Sanji loves cooking, the world will never misconstrue that fact.

Sanji loves the Baratie. From the very start of its creation he could tell its being would have a meaning that rivalled acceptance. He knew that it would become a place he was proud to call home. His sea was no longer desperate, and the shards of light that once haunted his darkness became whole.

Safety was something he could never take for granted, his dynamic made sure of that. The world deemed omegas a ticking timebomb, but Sanji always knew the world was the one who would ignite first. The Baratie was an outlier in this system built by society’s pressure, and at first that was more terrifying than something that fit in the molded box.

Later on Sanji would learn that safety was a right he did hold. There was still fear for the granted, the knowledge that his rights were next to none, but there was now a new hope that graced his soul. The Baratie being an outlier was never something terrifying, never something he should have ever wished to fear. It had always been the manifestation of the family he craved as a child.

Sanji still hid his dynamic, for no matter how safe the Baratie was, the world surrounding it would always be hostile to omegas. Zeff, Patty and Carne were the only ones aware of his plights, the instincts that chained him to the earth. And they did everything in there power to make the Baratie the home he deserved.

Sanji loves the Baratie, it would always be his home, the place where he learned the true meaning of family, and the destroyer of the chains that bound him to the earth.
Sanji loves the Baratie, no person could ever change that.

Sanji loves his Star. It has and always will be his symbol of hope. His was told his entire life that he was a stain upon the earth, but the stars upon his skin refuted any statement that followed the theme of Judges horrific mantras. No matter his status, no matter his dynamic, no matter any fact that could haunt him, Sanjis star would always shine upon his soul in adoration.

His body was littered with stars, ones freckled upon his face and ones scattered upon his entire being. Sanji was always aware of them, he knew where every star was his body and he treasured them with his life. In certain lights the rest of humanity could gaze upon his stars, but that was a rarity only a few got to witness.

All of his stars except for one were small, dainty, shimmery things. The kind of symbols normally found on those with a soulmate. But the one that garnered the title of “His Star” was anything but normal. Its placement on Sanjis body betrayed the secrets of his dynamic he wished to hide, and it was coloured in such a way that the tiny stars across his skin would deem as sadness. But nonetheless, he would always revere it as his world.

That star was his soul mark, the thing that would guide his soul to salvation and the embodiment of all he held dear. It was rich in colour, a blue that resembled both the sea and the sky. He never associated it with the same sadness that was held in a blue shimmering Celestial Mark, for he believed his star would never give him pain. But his stars placement was indeed an oddity, and it brought him sadness at times.

There are certain parts of the body that are synonymous with the omegan subgender, the fated spots of a soul mark born from the sea of desperation. Fate rarely shined down upon Sanji, never granted him a blessing or break from imperfection. His soul mark resided on the epitome, the representative spot of omegan divinity, the lower part of the stomach that was synonymous with the womb. And Sanji thought it was the most perfect thing in the world.

Sanji loves his star, the blue it weaved upon his skin would always be his favourite colour, the promise of love it kept would guide him to sanctuary, and he couldn’t wait for the day his star glowed in tandem.
Sanji loves his star, fate will never change that.

Sanji loves Zeff. He saved Sanji without hesitation, he sacrificed himself so that Sanji could reach his salvation, and he loves Sanji just as Sora did. Zeff is Sanjis father in everything but blood, and that will always be enough. Though it took time for Sanji to admit his care for Zeff, and it took his body longer to not flinch from the mans touch. The stain that Judge left upon Sanjis soul would always haunt his capacity for love.

Sanji thought he hid his hesitation from Zeff well, the devastation he felt from knowing his chances of acceptance were limited. He could not bear to admit to himself that it might be okay to breathe without fear. It got to the point where suffocation seemed like the only way out, the only saving grace in the pit that was humanity’s desecration.

Sanji didn’t realize that Zeff could see this fear plain as day. He couldn’t fathom that Zeff knew the exact moment Sanjis heart dropped to the pit of his stomach as his divine nature was revealed. All Sanji could see was the expression of sorrow that Zeff did hold and that terrified him beyond belief. He couldn’t hide anymore, and that was a fact.

Sanji would later realize that the sorrow Zeff held was not a result of his existence, but rather a lament for the constant plight of hatred he would never escape. Angelic beings did not care for Sanjis nature, and the world revered him even less so. But when Zeff looked at Sanji all he could see was a symbol of divinity, the exact idea of hope that Sanji saw in Sora all those years ago. Sanji is an omega, the holder of his mother’s love, and the son of the cook pirate Zeff.

Sanji loves Zeff, the light in his eyes granted love of infinite proportions, the blessing upon his soul was a home for his unbound nature, and his scent would always be the reminder that existence was never a crime.
Sanji loves Zeff, Judge could never change that.

Sanji hated himself for the longest of time. At certain moments he still does, the desecration upon his nature would always be a lingering stain. Love never came easy to him, at least when it came to loving himself. Loving something else was easy, it was a form of sacrifice he was all too familiar with and was all too happy to execute. But there was one moment that reminded Sanji of a time where hatred was a foreign concept.

When Sanji was a child he could not fathom the word hate, he did not know the horrors of the world and his light was not yet a shard. He was free to breathe, to bask in his mother’s love, and to experience the world without humanity’s desecration to divinity. His sea was not yet desperate, his soul was there to shine, and his reflection held no hidden meanings. Death was not a dream at this time.

Fate was a cruel mistress, and this childhood innocence only lasted for a brief while. Hate was introduced early on, a judge that looked at Sanji and only saw the potential for shame. But now as Sanji looked at everything he loved, he could see that there was a potential for more. A prophecy held behind his reflection that spoke only in the light of adoration. Death seemed less and less appealing, a realization of a nightmare that was truly never his dream.

Sanji found pieces of himself in everything he loves. His divinity was the synonym to his mother’s existence. His food was a reflection of the grace in his being. The Baratie was the definition of the care he kept for the world. His star was the manifestation of the love scattered across his soul. Zeff was the blessing granted by the family he has always deserved. But these were not the only pieces Sanji found, there would always be more of himself he learns to love. Death was no longer a possibility, and would forever more never be the answer Sanji searched for.

Sanji loves himself, the mirror reflects something he will always be proud of, the sea is no longer desecrated but rather a place of his adored imperfections, and his fate will always something he wants to live.
Sanji loves himself, he will never hate that fact.