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DAY 4: A Good Night's Sleep
Law can't escape, even in his dreams. Especially in his dreams.
You know those games where you hit the ball around to get it to the finish line? Law is the ball. Trigger Warnings : - Implied Character Death - Graphic Description of Corpses - Maggot - Blood and Gore - Psychological Horror - Implied Genocide Nothing is graphic except the description of the corpses but it's definitely there. Feel free to let me know if I missed anything. Fandom : One Piece Character(s) : Trafalgar D. Water Law Words Count : 962 No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)
Law ran and ran, but he couldn't escape. The white stretched everywhere, on the buildings, on the trees, on the people . The cold air bit his skin viciously and his ragged breathing formed condensation in the air.
The smoke morphed before his eyes, winding and wrapping all around him. The smell of smoke and burning flesh hit his nose and Law doubled over to vomit.
He was so hot, his skin was clammy and he felt like he was suffocating in his heavy black feather coat. The coat swallowed him up completely, almost suffocating him and Law wondered when it had arrived on his shoulders. It must have been Cora-san who had put it there. But where was Cora-san?
The smoke thickened, taking on the appearance of crows with bloody feathers. Drops of blood fell onto the pristine snow. White. Red. Black. Law’s head kept spinning.
Where was Cora-san?
If they didn't hurry up, Doflamingo would catch up with them.
(Doflamingo had already caught up with them.)
(Cora-san was dead.)
Law looked up at the sky. The stars shone brightly in the dark night, incandescent and untouchable. (How could he see them through the smoke?) A star grew in the sky, grew and grew until Law could see only it, until his retina burned in his eyeballs.
Strings of gold descended from the heavens, like the will of a vengeful god (run Law, run), and fell to the earth with all the force of a meteor. The ground shook and Law fell into the bloody snow.
The threads streaked the sky by the thousands until Law could no longer see the stars, trapping him in the White City. (City of the Dead, City of Angels)
A birdcage.
(Doflamingo was there.)
(Run, Law, Run.)
The blood-stained raven croaked, a cruel, bitter laugh. Law wept with it. His tears felt like stardrops, burning against his cheeks.
Law began to run again. The white continued to advance, marking his skin and seeping into his body, all the way to his lungs. Soon, the white would swallow him whole until nothing remained of him but a bloodstain on the snow.
A weight fell on his back, sending him to the ground and snow poured into his mouth. Law tried to swim through the mass that clung to his skin like blood, but chains around his feet pulled him deeper into the earth.
Law screamed. But no one heard him.
The pressure on his back grew more intense and when Law opened his eyes again, Lammy's lifeless eyes were staring at him. Law was drowning in a sea of severed limbs and rotting flesh. Bones sticking out in all the wrong directions, teeth falling out of twisted smiles. Gaunt skin covered in white spots.
The white had caught up with him.
(Dead. Everyone was dead.)
Law was the only survivor.
“See? There is no despair in this world. Someone will probably come and give you a helping hand.”
A maggot crawled out of Lammy's eye and into Law's ear.
But he couldn't scream.
(But he couldn't cry.)
If he screamed, the Navy would find him and kill him.
(If he cried, Doflamingo would find him and kill him.)
It was his only way to leave Flevance alive.
(It was his only way to leave Minion Island alive.)
A skeletal hand placed itself over his hand and mouth, preventing him from screaming. Terrified, Law followed the arm with his eyes, barely daring to move or breathe. Cora-san smiled at him, blood running from his nose and a broken tooth.
“I’ll die smiling! Because if you ever think of me, I want you to remember my smile.”
Cora-san's coat spontaneously caught fire. As usual, Cora-san didn't notice. The fire spread to the mountain of corpses that Law was on top of, licking the soles of his shoes.
The World Government wanted to remove all evidence.
(But they wouldn't be able to, because Law was still alive.)
(For that, he had to run.)
(Run, Law, Run.)
A hand locked around his ankle, cold and bony. Lammy’s head snapped around in its socket, the skin of her face melting around her eyeballs. She was smiling.
“Big brother, let’s go to the festival!”
Lammy’s hand tightened, her fingers digging in painfully until blood flowed.
“Big brother, why don’t you want to play with me?”
There were tears in her eyes.
“Big brother, why don’t you love me anymore?”
Law tried to pull away, tugging and kicking. He fell out of the pile and into the snow, Lammy’s torn-off arm still clinging to his ankle.
Gunshots rang out in the night, making Law flinch violently.
(Two brothers face to face, a gun in their hands. A perfect mirror.)
(Cora-san's body falling on the chest where Law was hidden.)
Law began to run, Lammy's arm like prisoner's chains around his feet. Black and pink feathers flew around him, a raven laughed in the distance.
Strings wrapped around Law's throat and hands. A doll tangled in his puppeteer's grip.
"You can't run forever, Law."
He couldn't escape.
He couldn't escape.
He couldn't escape.
A crevasse opened beneath his feet, snow cascading down and dragging Law down with it. The white covered him, swallowed him, ate him whole.
But just before Law was completely devoured by the white, an open hand closed around his wrist. Warm and soft and gentle. A blond man smiled at him, black and pink feathers dancing around him.
“If you want a good night's sleep, nothing better.”
(Law hadn't slept properly since Cora-san died.)
(The world was so noisy .)
“Cora-san?”
Law's voice was weak, almost inaudible.
(No one had heard him cry amidst the explosions, long after Cora-san died.)
(Cora-san could always hear him.)
“ Wrong .”
Law screamed.
(No one heard him.)
I'm sorry.
“but he’s not dead, still isn’t. kenjirou was meant to die five years ago and he’s meant to die now, but for some fucking reason he’s still alive, forced to watch as literally everyone else is taken from his world.”
https://archiveofourown.org/works/34353031
so whumptober huh
I was listening to Ptolemea and had the idea for this, not what I usually draw but it was fun, idk what the censorship is like on this app so she gets pasties, plus one that’s a little easier to see
TW: gore/blood
So I have been having bad digestive issues so I drew this to vent :D
was sitting at my desk, blatantly avoiding homework, when i thought: “what if gabriel and v1 fought with fists instead of guns”
so here you go. not that good imo but i need to get back into writing
Beware the story you are about to read!
Warnings: blood, gore, standard ultrakill stuff.
and barely veiled gayness
Summary: gabriel and v1 fight with fists. v1 uses gabriel as a personal juice packet. gabriel is too unconscious to fight back.
An arm around his throat, his heels scraped against the floor as V1 dragged Gabriel away from the center of the room. Unlike the machine, he had a windpipe that should go unobstructed; his gauntlets clawed uselessly against the metallic arm. Coughs and choked sounds escaped the angel, letting air out but not allowing it back in.
V1’s grip left his neck. He was able to suck in a quick breath. His head was slammed against the wall.
With a loud shout that was more akin to a groan, Gabriel wheels around towards the machine once more, fists clenching before throwing a blow towards the smug bastard’s optic. They dodged to the side, but their movement was too swift; V1 clattered to the floor and Gabriel was on them before they could get up.
Knees pinning V1’s legs and a hand restraining the machine’s by the wrists, his one free arm begins to beat them into a bloody pulp. A dent on the side of their head, a scrape down their chassis — every blow inflicted a new mark.
He punched until his knuckles hurt. V1 struggled. He punched until his arm hurt. V1 writhed. He punched until his lungs screamed for air and his own armor was ragged.
They both breathed, just for a moment. Motes of dust floated through the air. Gabriel’s ruffled feathers shifted somewhat in what little breeze there was.
Gabriel didn’t know his grip had loosened until a fist connected with his jaw, sending both right back into a tussle. Movements were sluggish and uncoordinated on both sides. Mechanics malfunctioned and flesh tired and bruised. Their fighting became wrestling, and that became more so grappling, until both of them were on their knees and still trying to win.
Head falling against Gabriel’s chest, V1 claws at his side. They can feel Gabriel’s nails digging into their shoulders, but that pain is nothing compared to them diving their fingers into a barely-healed gash.
A cry of pain escapes him, no longer muffled by hisses of gospel or mutterings of verses. V1’s fingers force the flesh apart, palm pressing against the widened wound, sucking in the blood Gabriel had to offer. The angel slumped against the machine, trying to push away, but both were too worn out to move or be moved.
Ragged breaths and whirring fans filled the room. It wouldn’t be wrong to say they were still fighting; V1 kept moving from one slash to the next, prying them open and pressing whatever body part was closest into the gore. But there wasn’t exactly resistance on either part. The host had finally succumbed to the parasite, wings drooping until they eventually landed in the puddles of mess on the floor, feathers dirtying surprisingly easy.
Gabriel fell still, save for the faint rise and fall of his chest. V1 let him as they both sank to the floor, tying themself up in his limbs, drinking in the blood.
A wolf in sheep's clothing
author:
masterfoxpin (LiesmithSilvertongue)
summary:
Officially, black on white, Dazai Osamu is an alpha. That’s a fact nobody ever questioned, fom his presenting during his mafia days, until now, at the detective agency. And if everyone knows for sure that Dazai’s an alpha, everyone also knows that Nakahara Chuuya is an omega. Fiercy, strong, and deadly, but small and beautiful omega.
This is the story of how the greatest lie of Soukoku’s life, blew up at the age of 23 years old for the two men. Rage, blood and chaos ensued seconds after.