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annacory-blog · 4 months ago

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Fanart on fanfic - First time ever.

Well, here is the thing. I am not much a fanart person, did few in my life. But fanart for fanfic - is a complete novelty.

However when you fell in love with a relatively rare pairing, you run out of things to stare at quickly. And now I feel a need to add something for other people to stare!

This is a fanart for fanfic of @ulysses000 that can be loosely translated from Russian as "Challenges of shared living space".

Below the art is a little translation, to give this scene some context!

"Well" - Trafalgar starts with mocking tone - "I thought you would be more upset about loosing the game." Sanji hides sly smile behind the glass of wine.

"I think you didn't get it, benet. Who have lost? This was a clear win. At least for Luffy. Who cares if we were stripped of all the points and disqualified?!"

"You have lost. Just accept it." Sanji makes another sip. His eyes remains locked on eyes. They are full of challenge, unknown trepidation, ocean of confusing playfulness.

"Then maybe you'll allow me to smoke in the room as a consolation prize?" - he asks. Glass of wine put aside with almost no sound, and Sanji moves tiny bit closer.

"No. " - Law replies with a smirk. Feeling other's warm palms gently pressed to his arm and chest.

"Pretty pleeeease" - Sanji begs. Voice pleading, sweet. Fingers slightly tighten, - "We didn't get an S rank just now, only because my body impitoyablement demands nicotine."

"No." - Law stretches the sound with pretence arrogance, putting his empty glass aside too.

"May be you can… I don't know lift me outside the window, so i can smoke? You did it during the game, haven't you.." Trafalgar immediately gets what younger is talking about. He snickers with closed mouth, happy his abilities were praised, alas slightly overestimated.

"On the game I haven't lifted you, I have lift your load bearing vest. I can only move inanimate objects."

"Et alors? I am sure you can come up with an idea. Je ne veus pas descendre... Cent pour cent porter will get mad. She'll get that i am drunk…" Law thinks if there is actually anything he can do. There is one option, but older man utterly confused, why he is even bothered with nearly childish demands of the blond? Why him being unnecessary tactile and shamelessly occupying Law's bed, is not at all irritating? On a contrary feels natural. It might be the alcohol. For sure it is alcohol!

"That depends to which extend you are willing to go for a single smoke…" - Trafalgar's voice is sinister, but Sanji, nevertheless, perks up with the hope. Blue sphere covers their dorm room, and butterfly knife slowly creeps out of backpack pocket and jumps to Law's hand.

"I can cut off you head." - he suggests. Blue eyes shining in a soft light of a table lamp. Sanji smiles with half mad smile, almost as a serial killer, or a drug addict on his high - confident.

"Go for it." If only for his own comfort, Trafalgar throws one leg over and sits on Sanji's laps. One hand holds head, lifts it slightly to expose refined neck. Vein pulses under soft, translucent skin. Law swallows nervously. Sharp knife pressed to the skin while he considers best trajectory for the cut.

"Are you not scared?" - Trafalgar asks. Question mostly directed to him self, as he feels suddenly confused, thoughts scattered.

"Nope." - Sanji's eyes are half opened, relaxed. - "I know you wouldn't kill me."

#lawsan #fanfic fanart #op au

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annacory-blog · 3 months ago

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Dance or die

I fell in love with another fic by @ulysses000 and then Spotify provided me with a perfect song. I had to draw them to exorcise that image from my head.

As per tradition - below is my attempt in translation. I want to make complete translation so badly (this is probably one third)! I believe this story deserves more attention. But can some kind English speaker confirm it is readable???

Love this fic specially from WoD perspective, it cultivates such delicious feeling of emptiness. And while technically, it has a happy end, you can not get rid of bitter taste of loss. Their requiem is not life, and there no way back. All is gone!

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Music stops abruptly. The dancefloor is silent, mob looks around in bewilderment. All eyes are focused on a flimsy, dirty stage. There, litten by sophites, stands brunette, cladded in a black robe. Calmly she re-adjusts many necklaces and bracelets, adorning her bosom and wrists. She checks microphone, softly tapping it with elegant finger, nonplussed by screeching sound it makes or the yells thrown her way from down the stage. For a while she silently stares in the drunk faces below, until eventually rowdy voices are reduced to quiet, unhappy mumble in the back rows.

-"What would you like to say, before the end of the world?"

-"Go fuck yourself!" - someone yells back from the crowd. Brunette’s smiles softly. Her blue eyes sparkle. This sight will be their last before headless body collapses to the floor.

View from the stage is absolutely terrific. It reminds of a late spring evening in the mansion by the sea. Bodies sway in panic, almost as grass would in a lush fields. Writings on the wall glitter with red as if they were remnants of the sunset caught in clouds. Screams - voices of seagulls. Sweet aroma that spreads across the room reminds of freshly brewed Irish coffee. Eyes locked on the bright fountains. Droplets shimmer in the air with a multitude of colour. Content. Do not argue with Mother. It is a simple rule every kid should know. Because, no matter how kind, gentle and understanding Mother is, she is not all sweets and praises. She also has an iron glove to treat the unruly child. Anyone who dares to confront her will surely drown in their own blood.

-"Now, dance or die."

Music never heard in this walls engulfs space. Stirring voice of the violin is echoed by screams, cello is perfectly complimented by heart-rending howls. Robin is not at all surprised by this harmony of cries and choir chanting. Clocks have just reached zero and this means, time for celebration has finally come. Perfect night to forge a timeless bond between the beloved child and the dear friend. Trafalgar stands on the stage, as if he always was there. Pity no one minds what is happening in the spotlight. He looks tidier than usual, ceremonial. Shirt, tie, three piece suit, shoes - all in various shades of black, all fitted perfectly. His gaze briefly stops on the couple of cadavers lying by the stage, then moves to the brunette.

-"Playing with food, aren’t we?"

-"Tarao, symbolism never was one of your strengths." - She smiles softly and shakes her head, - "Don’t try to grasp, what is beyond you. Just think of it as a cog in the well oiled machine."

Flowers on wreath along the walls move, as if troubled by the gust of wind, candle lights flicker, and blond man appears by Robin’s side. Sanji fiddles with the hem of his suit anxiously, fixes invisible wrinkles on the bouquet wrap. Trafalgar thought he put more than enough efforts to look decent tonight, however he wouldn’t stand a chance if this was a competition. Sanji's clan has been know for this aura of perfection, but even among his kin - he is special. Where the rest emmit light of the full moon, Sanji’s light would blind you as hot summer sun in zenith. He holds ten white roses - stark contract against his black suit. Pale of petals resonates with pale of the skin, highlights the gold of his hair. Trafalgar cannot possibly look away and no disciplines are to blame for this magic. Little smile slips from under his control “this is beautiful” he thinks.

-"Sorry for being late" - blond tuck one long golden lock behind the ear. Eyes drift towards the dance floor, but do not linger there. Woman chuckles softly - so innocent.

-"I was worried you made your escape."

-"Please, don’t ruin the moment" - gaze of his blue eyes seems to be glued to the wooden planks of the stage, then he looks up, eyes meet with Robin’s.

They nod, almost simultaneously, and only after Sanji musters enough of courage to look to the other man. His gaze shamelessly devours all the minute details he can grasp, it is hard to tell, if he desperately tries to avert attention from the bloodbath on the dance floor, or genuinely admires the sight. Trafalgar thinks he would be happy with both reasonings. Laws lips move soundlessly forming few words. Sanji chuckles and replies in the same manner: “you too, idiot”.

-"Ladies and Gentlemen." - maybe a dozen of eyes flicker back in response to sweet, calm voice of the woman. Short break taken from tormenting the flesh, generously soaked with blood and tears. Bodies contort with the fear for their life. - "Tonight, before the Dark Mother’s eyes, souls of two cursed sons of hers will be united. Every kindred present here shall witness the making of endless, mutual death." - her eyes run across the dance floor, reading the mood of the guests. - "the Vinculum should not be broken. Anyone who dares an attempt to weaken the bond will be hunted by The Circle of the Crone," - she looks for a moment into particularly dark corner - "as well as by our brothers and sisters from Ordo Dracul."

Her gaze shifts to the dark haired man, waiting for him to return the attention.

-"Now you can speak your vows."

Trafalgar makes a step forward, reaches to touch cold pale fingers, swallows heavily before he starts to speak.

-"I, Trafalgar D Water Law, hereby take Vinsmoke Sanji into my Requiem forever." - envelops his hand gently and carefully - "I swear before all that is holy and all that is unholy that we, tonight, seal our fates by bonds of dedication and honor. When my partner is hungry, I will bring food." - Sanji chuckles quite and bright - "When my partner sleeps, I will watch and bear witness upon waking." - He squints, eyes slit, as if targeted by bright lamp. - "When my partner is afraid, I will give comfort, and when my partner is wronged, I will have vengeance." - Cool fingers caress back side of the hand. - "This I swear on the blood, and the flame and the spirit."

In his blue eyes flashing light reflects, candles burning twice as bright with the last spoken words. Law squises cold hand, trying to reassure, give comfort, prevent flashes from setting kindred's mind aflame.

-"I, Vinsmoke Sanji, hereby take Trafalgar D Water Law into my Requiem forever." - his voice sweetest thing that ever touched ears, in both life and un-life, - "I swear before all that is holy and all that is unholy that we, tonight, seal our fates by bonds of dedication and honor." - His fleeting touch playfully skims through tan fingers, icy sensation brings sober clarity and bliss of inebriation at the same time. - "When my partner is hungry, I will bring food." - Law’s smile is barely there. - "When my partner sleeps, I will watch and bear witness upon waking. When my partner is afraid, I will give comfort," - he is the most gentle and kindhearted, so much is obvious in every syllable of every word. - "And when my partner is wronged, I will have vengeance. This I swear on the blood, and the flame and the spirit."

Sanji’s hold on the hand gets firmer as he expects another rise of firy glow to radiate the room. Little girl steps forward from behind the stage, she is silent and obedient. So small, seven years at most, her deep chocolate eyes glazed with indifference, strawberry blond hair braided in two pig tales, white gown hugs fragile figure. She stares ahead absently, woman’s hands leading her by shoulders.

-"Time to make the sacrifice." - hand outstretched to pass the ritual knife. Fingers gently support ragged blade.

Trafalgar feels how kindred’s claws pierce his skin. He might have broken few bones, if older wouldn’t strengthen his grip in response. It is heard for Sanji. This is easily seen, his eyes shift frantically, his lips stripped of smile and crooked. Even his touch feels colder than before. He never have taken the life of a sentient being. Even in death Sanji remained pure, his hands and soul unmarred by murder of mortals. Law knows other is hurting, in his eyes this child is seen as a spit image of the older sister. Trafalgar himself lost in the shattered memories for a moment. Girl reminds his late sister, who died too young too long ago. Despite that he knows he will have enough resolve to put this innocent child to rest, as she obediently waits for her own demise.

This is essential part for the completion of the ritual. Sanji knows it. This is not news, but he can’t keep his long dead heart from burning and spasming disgusted by creeping acceptance. He was the one who proposed marriage. He organized most of the celebration. He thought about it many times, about this particular moment he has to take someone’s life, scenario played in his head on repeat. But it is not something you can be prepared for. This is wedding. They are about to enter mutual un-life, their souls are to be bound for the eternal death, forfeiting innocence, killing personification of their past. Together.

His hand is shaking, but Sanji hides it, only grip on the hilt gets stronger. Her face is gentle and soft, with neat childish features, but her eyes are dead already, trapped under Mother’s hypnotic influence. Embroidery on the gown matches hair colour. She looks like a little princess. Sanji forgets to imitate the leaving, his thorax freezes mid inhale, mechanical movement abandoned. He thought he would be able to do it, to confront the past, to kill for the sake of something new, for the sake of future. But this first step is terrifying. All his being is trapped, Staring in the eyes of the Beast, unable to move. Sanji doesn’t want to lose his humanity, he is afraid to slip, to get comfortable with the idea of supremacy over humans, his own strength, his right to take life. Few months in his death, as soon as fog of newly obtained supernatural powers thinned, allowing him to think clearly again, he made a decision to give his all to keep whatever “human” have left in this damned shell of the body. Once he got accustomed with business run by The Circle of the Crone, he found plenty of friends in each and every city morgues and knew without failure when fresh carcasses were delivered to local butcheries. When ritual required freshly drawn blood he used his own vite with no second thought. And now all workarounds are closed, blocked by unmovable boulders. Only one way ahead.

-"We are both dead. It’s not going to get any worse." His whisper is scolding hot against the skin, it reminds to expand lungs, air forced in with fake inhale. Warm palm touches softly, fingers carefully wrap around the hand that holds the hilt, the touch reassures, hand redirected slightly - outward and up.

-"Beheading is better."

For once Sanji is genuinely grateful that Trafalgar never listens and reads his thoughts at any given moment. -"One." He angles cutting edge . -"Two." Skin is burning hot -"Three." Thud. Mortal dread frozen in the eyes of the dead girl.

_________________________

And song that was a catalyst for all the efforts

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#one piece fanart #op au #fanfic fanart #world of darkness #vtr #fanfic translation #lawsan

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