Have you ever wanted to enter the one piece world? Maybe you want to be friends with the strawhats, or the heart pirates? Perhaps you'd rather be dating one of them, or all of them!! Here you can do that, feel free to send in requests in my request...
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A/N: Told you guys that you wouldn't have to wait long!! Anyways, we're shaking things up with this chapter! This was actually taken from someone on my discord. Biggest Killer glazer frfr. We did a little swapsie I guess you could call it. She drew me Kid, and I wrote her this Killer fic!! So I'm slotting this in here since it's not an official request, enjoy!!
Oh also here is your content and trigger warning, as you can see it includes some themes of gore, rape, abuse and not nice stuff so, yeah. Keep that in mind!!
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The ocean stretched endlessly beneath the pale moonlight, dark and accepting as it always was. You grunted as you heaved another chunk over the side of your small boat, watching it disappear beneath the surface with barely a splash.
The concrete block pulled it down quickly, you'd got good at the ratios. Too little concrete and they didn't sink properly, begging for some unfortunate fisherman to stumble across them.
Too much and the concrete was impossible to lift, leaving you stranded with evidence you couldn't dispose of, but you'd manage to perfect it. The ratio that sent everything straight to the bottom, deep enough that even if someone went looking, they'd never find it.
Your shoulders burnt with the familiar ache of repetitive motion. The muscles between your shoulder blades felt like they were on fire, a deep, throbbing heat that radiated down your spine with each movement.
You'd need to ice them when you got home, maybe take some ibuprofen. The last thing you needed was to be unable to lift your arms tomorrow and have to explain why.
Blood had long since dried on your gloves, cracking at the knuckles as you reached for the next piece. The thick rubber fabric had kept your hands clean, you'd learned that lesson the hard way after your first kill, when you'd worn thin latex gloves, that left you scrubbing your fingernails raw trying to get the blood out from under them.
Now you never worked without these gloves. Industrial strength, the kind meant for handling caustic chemicals. They were ugly and they made your hands sweat, but they were absolutely necessary.
