#I NEED to draw them hopefully I will eventually~

[kaiiscottage]

I Iove you unamed Siguma background member <3

[chibishortdeath]

This is based off of an audio clip from Silent Hill, a game I sadly have not gotten to play yet :(, but I saw someone else’s animation of the clip and got really inspired by it. Idk if I’ll ever actually animate this scene or anything, but it got me to draw Hector and Julia so it was worth it lol

[archersartcorner]

Was thinking about the fact that Zac’s last two (main campaign) characters have been Rogues (or the SW5E rogue equivalent) That Are Creatures. And what if they met :) bop slug

[egginfroggin]

I just think that Emmet deserves to be a weird lil cryptid, honestly.

Yes, this is related to WtST.

No, it will not be another 20,000+ project, really.

Might spawn some art at some point, though

Anyway.

No content warnings. Enjoy!

Akari and Rei were the ones sent to the Heartwood – being the most adept with Pokemon, outside of Captain Zisu of the Security Corps, they were the last option for dealing with Kleavor that didn’t involve a more forceful manner of approach.

Warden Lian met them at Lord Kleavor’s arena, Goomy slinking around his feet as he set about organizing offerings on a dish, and he looked up at them in confusion.

“What do you mean, you’re here to handle Kleavor?” he said incredulously, instinctively tensing as if ready to fight. “One of you Surveyors already quelled him.”

They blinked, first at the child and then at each other.

The young Warden plucked up the dish and nodded at them to follow as he stepped around the alter and into the arena.

There, an absolutely massive Kleavor chirped at them from the branches before leaping down to land in front of the three of them.

The Kleavor – the same Noble they were sent to deal with – ground out a grumble at the twins before leaning down to nudge Lian’s hat and pluck at the offering, gargantuan axes lowered and held harmlessly to the sides.

“He’s completely calm,” Warden Lian said, gesturing at his Noble. “I don’t know why you came.”

“Because he – he was frenzied, wasn’t he?” Akari said, utterly baffled, her Cherubi squeaking merrily as it tottered around Lian’s Goomy.

“He was – but I told you, that other Surveyor quelled him.”

“Nobody from the Survey Corps has been here since last week,” Rei said.

Lian frowned at that, patting the side of Lord Kleavor’s face.

“He passed by a few days ago," the boy said. "Silver hair, silver eyes with weird gold around the pupils? I thought he was with you.”

[reallilystuff]

[yardsards]

you know a pose is complicated when you need to start colour coding the characters

[catboy-cyrus]

Someday. Someday I'll write up a proper fic for my whole Fucked Up Cyrus thing.

[kellystar321]

.

[sodacowboy]

weird dreams after an awful night

[mikhailoism]

.

[otaku553]

Fire (Part 2)

<- (PREV) (NEXT) ->

(Spade Pirate Sabo AU Masterpost)

And that is!! 18 of 18 pages!! It's this long because I didn't want to break up their fight. I hope you enjoy :)

I had to rewrite their fight like,,, 3 times lmao. I'm not very good at writing fights because I'm Incredibly Passive Aggressive and Very Non Confrontational. Thankfully my partner helped me out a bit with making the escalation feel natural, so hopefully their grievances and motivations read well. In the end, both of them are starving probably-emotionally-stunted teenage boys in a high-stress situation, and Tage is being faced constantly with one of the biggest sources of his trauma that he doesn't even remember-- of course he's going to lash out.

Fun thing I learned this time around, if I struggle with planning a chapter, it can kind of help to write it out in prose like I would a fanfic, and then translate it to comic form. This is how I eventually ended up with 18 pages of comic,,, because I can't really estimate how much I'll need to draw when I'm writing in prose. In turn, this did help a lot with adding more natural behaviors between dialogue, like Tage tapping his finger to fidget while crossing his arm, or all of their pointing and gesturing while they're arguing.

[lightwise]

Omega is not okay

I know we've all been over the moon about Crosshair and Hunter's dynamic in The Return, but I want to draw some attention to Omega in this episode, and something that I think Joel Aron is trying to draw attention to with his lighting choices.

Omega is not okay.

Joel has made pointed out many times that he loves doing reveal lighting (think the overhead light in Crosshair's cell or on the freighter at the end of A Different Approach giving him a halo, or how Hunter stops short of the overhead light on the Marauder before stepping out to greet Omega). And throughout this whole episode, the light is breaking over Crosshair and bathing him in warmth more and more. He is slowly returning the light and coming home to his family.

Omega, however, in nearly every single scene in this episode, is in shadow.

Yes, her hairstyle is contributing to the fall of light on her face, and yes, she has her hat on while they're on Barton IV. But this is showing that her psychological state since they escaped Tantiss is uneasy, at best, and very conflicted and darkened, at worst. Even when she wakes up in the comfort and safety of the Marauder, she is shrouded in shadow. And even in scenes where the light wraps around and highlights Crosshair's face, Omega's is kept harshly defined, and she is often looking away from the "camera".

Even when we see her somewhat happier at points in this episode, usually due to watching her brothers reconnect, her face is not as well lit as theirs.

Omega kept her positivity and optimism at the forefront while she and Crosshair were in prison, and throughout most of their escape. It's what we most associate with her--being a ray of sunshine and encouragement for those around her. Now, however, she has the opportunity to relax a bit, for the adults to be handling certain things, and the trauma and perspective shift that she has just gone through is coming to the forefront.

Her survivors guilt, her shock at not being the only female clone, her confusion and questions over who she is and why she is so important, the cruelty she's seen Hemlock be capable of, and her continued empathy for anyone who is suffering is all swirling around in her in ways that she doesn't know what to do with yet. Yes, she has seen much suffering in the galaxy already in her short life, and has always been adamant about her need to help others. But ultimately it had never impacted her like this. Until now.

Crosshair has been broken and remade by his experiences. Omega is being broken and remade by hers as well. And I'm not sure the boys fully realize just how much yet.

Omega refuses to be left behind. She feels responsible for the fact that the rest of the clones are still on Tantiss. She feels guilty that she could have a chance at a life still and they don't. She feels an all-encompassing need to help them if she can, even though she is still young and vulnerable. This is ultimately going to conflict with Hunter's desires to keep her safe and hidden. Echo has already chosen the fight. Wrecker is willing to go wherever he's needed. Crosshair has been through too much to not be willing to fight back however necessary.

Hunter is going to eventually realize that while Omega is still a child, and does need to be protected, at the same time, her own sense of responsibility is going to eventually supersede his desires.

Echo and Crosshair especially will be able to understand some of what she is feeling and hopefully help guide her through it. Hopefully, Omega will be able to reconcile who she is, what she is capable of, and what is outside of her ability to fix, sooner rather than later. But it's safe to say she will never be the same after this. At least she has a little bit of reprieve before facing whatever is next.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Practice

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You need to practice

On the weekend, when you don't have games and you've finished all your homework, you have a kick about in the garden.

Or, rather, Momma and Morsa had a kick around and you save their shots.

Momma's better at shooting than Morsa but Morsa does better headers so it all evens out you suppose.

Either way, you get practice and they get exercise.

It's a win-win.

You're doing well with your academy training but not well enough. Since the time you rejected Germany's offer to have you play for their youth teams, no one else had called you up.

Not Denmark.

Not Sweden.

Some of your peers at Academy training had wormed their ways onto the youth teams, even for just one call up.

But you hadn't.

You don't know what you're doing wrong. You don't know why you're not good enough.

What you do know is that you want to be on those teams. Those teams are stepping stones to get to the senior team and the senior team is the road to joining the big clubs.

The European giants that you so desperately want to play for.

Wolfsburg is your destination, in big blinding lights in your head.

You want to play for Wolfsburg. You want to dominate the German League with them and, hopefully, the Champion's League as well.

But Wolfsburg won't look twice at you if you aren't on Sweden or Denmark's senior team.

Hence why you're practicing now, saving shot after shot after shot in your fancy new gloves, standing in the new goal set up in your garden after a drunk Morsa stumbled into your old one and broke it.

Another shot streaks past your outstretched hands and you kick your goalpost angrily, rolling the ball from out of your net and back to Momma.

"You're not defending properly!" You tell Morsa, arms crossed over your chest," You keep letting her win!"

Morsa laughs, like she can't see how important this is to you. "We're just playing around, princesse."

"We're not! I'm practicing!"

"Take it easy. It's not the be all end all."

"It is!"

You stamp your foot and Morsa laughs again, fondly ruffling your hair and you want to scream.

"You're not at training, princesse. It isn't that serious."

"It is!"

"It isn't."

"Magda," Momma says warningly," Leave her alone."

"Pernille!"

Momma grabs the ball and starts dribbling.

Morsa still isn't taking it that seriously, making a few attempts at getting the ball again but ultimately leaving Momma enough room to take another shot.

You catch it this time, falling to the ground to hold it against your body like Zećira has always taught you.

You stay on the ground for a while, drawing big deep breaths into your lungs.

Pernille sits in front of you, nudging you gently with her foot. "What's going on, huh? What's got you all high strung?"

You huff and mumble," I don't want to talk about it."

"You're not usually this short with us," Pernille says," Talk to me. What's going on?"

"It's stupid."

"If it's upsetting you then I don't think it is."

"Everyone else has been called up for the youth teams," You let the rest of your words go unspoken.

"You'll get there," Magda says, still standing nearby," It'll happen eventually."

"I don't want it eventually! I want it now! Everyone else has been called up! Everyone else is getting game time with the youth teams!"

"People develop at different times," Pernille's trying to soothe you, to talk you off the ledge," It's perfectly okay to not be going to camps the same time as everyone else."

"I should have accepted Germany's offer when I had the chance!" You say and that's when Magda and Pernille know you're being serious about this.

"Just because everyone else is going doesn't mean that you're a worse player," Pernille says to you," You shouldn't measure yourself against them."

You sit up. "Whatever." You grab the ball, angrily booting it all the way to the other end of the garden. "I told you it was stupid."

"Princesse-"

You move to go back inside.

"Come here," Magda says.

You ignore her.

"Don't ignore me! Come here!"

She's using her captain voice, the one she used to use when she played for Sweden. You know better than to ignore her now.

You stand in front of her, looking up.

"You worth is not reliant on whether or not you get into the youth teams."

You scoff. "Maybe not to you."

"Princesse-"

"But don't lie and say big clubs don't start picking out future players from the moment they lay eyes on them. No one watches random youth team matches at club level, not really. But they do watch it at international level. I know that. You know that."

"I know that," Magda echoes," But you have all the time in the world."

"Do I?" You say," Do I really?"

"You're fourteen. You have so much time."

You look away. "No, I don't."

You're growing up now, shooting up like a weed but Pernille's still taller than you, still tall enough to rest her chin on the top of your head and hug you from behind.

"Tell me what you need, princesse. What do you want out of this?"

"I want to be the best. I want you to help me be the best."

"Okay," Pernille says," We'll help you be the best."

[c0eu4]

OP81 | Valentine's Day evening

Summary: McLaren had the wonderful idea of revealing the new car on Valentine's Day evening..

Warning: a lot of teasing, blowjob but not that much described.

A/N: I'm not going to say that I'm back because it would be a lie. I know it's a bit random after not posting for more than one month. Take care of yourself 🫶🏻

MASTERLIST request are close

She climbs on his lap, straddling him. He lifted her dress up, rubbing his hands against her hips. She rubs herself against the prominent bulge on his pants, his fingers digging in her hips through her dress. As they were about to go further, Oscar's phone rang. He ignores it, turning it in silent mode. But his phone vibrates again.

He sighed, picking up the phone. She mutters an incomprehensible swear and Oscar gently pats her thigh, as if to remind her to be polite.

''Lando what do you want?'' His voice doesn't let anything show, so she moves her hips a little to make him react. He bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes, trying not to moan into the phone. She doesn't hear what the British is saying but it seems like he's annoying Oscar.

''Yeah yeah we'll be there in 10.'' He said, annoyed. ''Yes Lando!'' He hung up like that, Lando visibly irritated him. She tries to move her hips again, but Oscar puts his hand on her hips, stopping her.

''We have to go.'' He took her off of him, pulling down her dress. ''But I thought we had time ?'' She follows Oscar like a poor puppy who nobody wants to play with. He put on his coat and handed hers to her. ''Lando wants us to be here earlier.'' She puts on her coat. ''And you're listening to him?'' She takes her purse, checking that there is everything she needs inside.

''Boss order.'' He opens the door to her, following her outside and locks the door behind him. The cold of winter makes him shiver. He doesn't understand how she manages to be in a dress in the middle of February.

He runs towards her, putting his hand on her lower back. He opens for her the door of the car and closes it behind her. He sits next to her, behind the wheel and starts the engine. He started to drive, with both of his hands on the steering wheel because of the people everywhere in the city.

They finally arrive at the highway, allowing him to place his hand on her thigh. He caresses her thigh tenderly, his fingers drawing random patterns.

Eventually, they arrive at their destination, already surrounded by journalists around the car. Oscar comes out first, his hand leaving her thigh against his will. Journalists are already taking photos of him but he doesn't take the time to pose, preferring to go and open his beloved's door. He holds out his hand to her, she grabs it and easily gets out of the car. He closes the door behind her, his hand in hers.

She's not really used to McLaren events and all this makes her uncomfortable. He's used to it now. But it still makes him uncomfortable too.

Oscar dragged her towards the red carpet. They can't avoid it. Even if they would love. Eventually, they can breathe a little easier after the red carpet, the journalists cannot follow them.

But the people in the private room don't ease their tension completely. They look for their seat, find it quickly and place their stuff in front of their name label.

Hopefully for Oscar, he's next to Lando. Y/n, her, she's next to someone unknown. It promises a wonderful night.

''Oscaaar, my dear friend!'' Lando knows how to be unnoticed. ''I thought you'll never come.'' They sit down, waiting for the event to start.

What a long night for y/n and Oscar. The person next to y/n is so boring. She keeps talking, without letting time for her to answer. Oscar sees that she's starting to be annoyed and tries to help her by teasing her.

He rubs her thigh, going higher than normal. His fingertips wander throughout her inner thigh, sending shivers down her spine.

''Are you cold? Because if you are, Did you know that if two people are naked against each other, it's very hot?'' Y/n don't take the time to listen to her, trying to focus on not moaning.

She bites hardly her lower lips when Oscar talks to her ear. ''Wanna go to the bathroom, mh?'' Y/n stands up abruptly, heading towards the bathroom through the crowd. Oscar follows her closely, managing to grab her hand.

She locked them in a bathroom, Oscar pressing her against the wall in front of the door. He nibbles her neck, making her moan.

''You're so neddy.. my poor pretty girl..'' He bit down her collarbone, leaving a few red marks. Her hands tug at his suit and his hair, like she wants to be even more connected to him. The friction of his bulge in his pants against the crook of her legs drives her crazy, but she restrains herself from moaning too loudly.

He slams his lips against hers, their teeth collide. They laugh softly before Oscar kisses her again. His hands caress her body in every corner, making her feel good, ''Oscah, you're gonna kill me.'' She whispered to him, her voice as soft as music.

He sucked the skin of her neck, not worrying about the fact that it leaves reddish marks there. She lets it happen, tilting her head to the side to give him more space.

Suddenly, she grabs his hips and makes him turn around, pinning him against the wall. She tries to grin herself against him but she's too small to feel his now hard length against her needy pussy. She hastily undoes his tie and opens the first buttons of his shirt to bite his neck as if she hadn't eaten for several months.

He moaned loudly as she kissed that spot under his ear that he loves so much, his hands gripping hardly her hips, almost leaving bruises. She grabs his cock and kneads it through his pants, making him roll his eyes back, his mouth wide open in a 'o'.

''Y-Y/n! s-stop!'' He moaned in a high pitched voice, ''I'm gonna c-cum in my pants.'' He said, almost crying from holding back his climax.

She quickly gets on her knees, undoing his belt hastily and pulling down his pant and boxer at his middle thighs. She doesn't wait even more to take him in her mouth and in less than two minutes, his eyes roll back once more, his hot and thick seed filling her mouth.

She quickly cleans him with her tongue and lets him get dressed. He kissed her one last time, almost tasting himself on her lips.

They face the mirror, and that's when they realize they shouldn't have.

Y/n's makeup is ruined by the blowjob she just gave. Her hair is a mess, red marks all over her neck and her lipstick all over her mouth. As for Oscar, it's not any better. Her shirt is all wrinkled, lipstick marks all over his face and neck.

''I'm gonna kill you.'' The young man said as he started to panic, already thinking about all the scandal there is going to be. However, Y/n laughs at the situation.

''I have makeup in my bag.'' She looks at her man as she reaches her hand up and tries to arrange his hair.

''But your bag is at the table, isn't it?'' She nodded slowly and started to think of a solution. ''You have your phone?'' He takes it out of his pocket. ''Call Lando then.''

Oscar shakes his head as a no. ''No way he sees us like that.'' She giggles at his reaction. ''Oh c'mon babe. You prefer all the photographers to take pictures of us like that?'' The man sighed and eventually called Lando, who joined them with the bag of Y/n without asking questions. He knocks on the bathroom door and Oscar opens it for him and locks it right away.

''You save me from that girl, she can't stop talking I swear.. What you both were doi-'' He doesn't even finish his sentence as he burst in laugh, seeing Oscar looking at the floor and playing nervously with his hand. Y/n, her, grab the bag from Lando's hand, rummage throughout it and take out some makeup.

''Osc, come here.'' She ignores Lando's child attitude as he has a hard time to calm down. ''You both are that needy?'' He asked between laughs. Oscar approached the young lady and she started to apply a yellow base on all the red marks on his neck.

''wow, she literally ate your neck, mate.'' The British boy said as he looked at his teammate's neck. ''Shut up.'' Answered Oscar, his face red from embarrassment.

Y/n keep covering Oscar's neck, until all the red marks aren't visible anymore. She does the same on her neck while her boyfriend fixes his clothes and his tie. She also fixed her make up and her lips until both of them were like before.

''I can't see nothing.'' Said Lando as he observed their neck attentively. ''You're a pro of makeup Y/n.'' Joked Lando. ''I just have the habit with him.'' She teased him as his cheeks got back to red.

''C'mon Oscah, I know you're not that shy.'' Lando gently hit his shoulder as he opened the door for them to get out.

The three of them go back to their table, where they refound that one lady who's already annoying Y/n again...

[amourtoken]

yes PLEASE write about quinn knocking you up and also please never stop writing smut i feel FERAL

I got a couple asks about this so let me roll them all into one here yall are horny unhinged individuals together now

Quinn is unfortunately insanely susceptible to baby fever. He can't help himself, the thought of having a little extended family to provide for is sweet enough on its own but getting there is what he's really been focused on recently. He cannot clear his mind of the idea at all and it's starting to effect every aspect of his life. His thoughts are always frenzied and his brain fuzzy, he can barely focus on the ice and you constantly catch him zoned out and have to draw his attention back to you. What's he even thinking about?

This all started after he saw you interacting with some kids at a charity event. He didn't think it'd be a personal attack on his psyche to see you leaning down to their level so they felt more included while you chatted about your days or whatever random thoughts of theirs that sprung to mind. They all seemed so happy in your presence and you've always just naturally been great with kids so it's no surprise to you, but Quinn instantaneously fell victim to the infectious thought process of parenthood.

all he's thought about for days is how pretty you'd look pregnant and how good of a parent you'd be. Would your kids have your smile? Your eyes? Hopefully they had your sweet personality at the very least. You two could be the overly supportive cheesy hockey parents when your kid got a little older too, if they took after him and wanted to play. Quinn would fall down these hour long rabbit holes in his own mind of what your future would look like with an addition to the family and it was becoming more and more of a necessity every day.

Eventually it gets to a point where he can't fucking contain it anymore and he lets the idea slip while he's got you pinned to the mattress below him.

Quinn's fingers are holding your hips tight enough to bruise while he's buried inside you, panting praises and explicit compliments against your neck in rhythm with his thrusts. He can't get the image of you all pretty and pregnant out of his brain at all, the only thing keeping him from it is a thin latex and a question really. He didn't wanna ruin the moment but it was out of his control at this point, the need overtaking critical thinking skills.

"Fuck- please let me put a baby in you- shit- p-please- c-can't stop thinkin' about it- fuck i need it so bad...'m sorry-"

His voice sounded so broken, moans and whines cutting through his words against his will. You had no idea he felt this way and fuck you wish he'd said something sooner because you've been going through the same misery he has. For the same reason. The same exact event that permeated his peace with the idea of kids with you was the one that had you dizzy thinking about him being a dad. Safe to say your communication skills were lacking during this cause both of you were afraid to ask but now that you're on the same page? You're in for it.

You respond enthusiastically, nodding quickly and immediately pleading for him to do just that. Quinn's chest fluttered at your whined pleas and as much as it pained him to pull out in the moment it was definitely worth it to sink back into you raw. He wanted this to last forever but the way you felt so fucking warm and wet around him was ultimately his undoing, much to his own protest. He didn't wanna finish without dragging you along either, his thrusts fell out of rhythm as he snaked a hand between your bodies to circle your clit, trying his best to take you with him.

"Shit- you're gonna be so pretty- fuck- god I'm so fuckin' lucky-"

Your nails sunk into his shoulders as you pulled him closer, legs shaking as you tipped off the edge of your orgasm with a whine of his name. He almost immediately followed you, hands gripping behind your knees to fold you in half under him, allowing him to sink deeper than before. Quinn's vision blurred with black spots and his voice pitched up into whiney pleas as he filled you up, finally getting what's plagued him for fucking weeks now. Doesn't matter if this was the time that did it or not, he was dead set on fucking you full of his cum over and over and over until you got the results you both wanted (and then some extra for good measure ofc)

[rubyin-wonderland]

Guilt

opla!Zoro x gn!reader

Summary: Under the control of a hypnotist, Zoro is forced to hurt you. How are you going to heal?

WC: 4.4k

Warnings/tags: blood, injuries, torture, getting stabbed, a shit ton of angst, fluff at the end

The forest stretches endlessly out around you, giving you the impression of complete isolation, despite the danger lurking all around.

You aren't completely alone, thankfully. Zoro stands with you as you traverse the forest, pushing through the bushes to hopefully find some way out of this hellish situation.

Hypnotists hide in the forest with you, prepared to take control of you with a single look. You need to escape, but that seems impossible this deep in the forest.

The sun has been completely blocked out with a blanket of branches and leaves held above your head. It must still been day since you can see, but there is no direct sunlight and there hasn't been since you entered.

You hold onto Zoro's arm like a child, eyes darting back an forth across your surroundings in case anything or anyone jumps out.

Zoro allows you to hold his arm, his hand holding yours. "It's okay." He says, still looking ahead. "We're gonna be okay." It's for him to hear as much as you.

You know it would be unwise to stop. You need to escape, but your legs ache and you are exhausted.

"I need to stop." You mumble, keeping your pace nonetheless. "We can't stop." You resist the urge to whine. That certainly wouldn't help. "I know."

"We'll walk for a few more minutes and then stop, okay?" He suggests quietly, trying to compromise. You hum a yes and nod, trying to keep up before you hear something, stopping dead in your tracks.

"Just a few more minutes." He tries to spur you into motion, but you look up at him, fear in your eyes.

"Something's there." You press your back to his, your natural place when preparing for a fight.

You hear footsteps from behind you and instinctively close your eyes. That way you can't be hypnotized.

You feel Zoro reach for his swords, drawing them from their sheaths, at the ready.

Then something happens. He freezes against your back and you know something is wrong. You take a step away as he spins around, swinging where you had been standing.

Hypnotized.

Your blood runs cold as you see his face, completely void of emotion. No soft smile or mild frown. It's a blank slate, there is emptiness behind his eyes. He's a puppet for the man standing behind him.

His posture is rigid. It's like someone turned him into a mannequin. There is no protectiveness about him. No kindness. He is not there. He's just a vessel. His swords are already drawn.

You run back into the forest, drawing your own sword to defend yourself, moving as fast as your legs will allow you.

The men follow you as you run, but as long as you don't look the hypnotist in the eyes you're safe.

Zoro follows close behind you, eventually tackling you to the ground, knocking the wind out of you.

As you gasp for air, he breaks out of the hold the hypnotist has on him, loosening his grip on your arms.

He looks confused and for a second you want to kiss him for coming back to you, but you know as soon as the hypnotist reaches the two of you the control will take over again.

You break away from him, taking off into the bushes, getting air in staggered breaths.

You look back to see Zoro go rigid again, the simple action causing you to stumble over a root, hitting the ground hard.

Zoro takes his time now, the hypnotist doesn't want to let him go. You stand, trying to regulate your breathing before holding your sword out, preparing to duel.

He lunges at you, but you're lucky. The hypnotist doesn't know how to use his swords. The movements are sloppy and leave plenty of space for you to attack.

You don't attack, though. That's still Zoro. Not right now, but inside he is, and you can't shake that. You can't hurt him.

You dodge his attacks easily, he gives you more than enough time to block. The fight would have a clear winner if you were to actually attack him.

He continues to slash at you wildly as you begin to scream for help. If any of the others can hear you they'll come to help. Hopefully.

You manage to knock him off balance, immediately taking off into the woods again, calling out for anyone.

You run fast and Zoro follows behind you, staying in the trance from the hypnotist, swords at the ready.

You don't look back. You just keep screaming, your legs burning under you. You keep running until your legs physically give out under you.

This time, when you hit the forest floor, you don't get up. You just lay there, heart pounding in your ears, your voice cut short by the fall.

You feel hands grabbing you, turning you over on your back so you can see what's about to happen to you.

Zoro sits above you, his weight holding you to the ground. Your elbows are pinned to your sides. You can't move. You can't escape.

Your sword fell out of your hand when you hit the ground and it now sits out of your reach.

His swords are discarded as well, the hypnotist likely knowing how to use fists far better than blades.

Instead of calling for your friends, you try to get through to Zoro. He lands the first blow against your face and you resist the urge to crack.

It isn't him. It isn't.

Zoro would never hurt you.

He's being controlled.

It's not him.

You hope that by some miracle he'll be able to break through the hypnosis with the power of love, but you can tell it's a silly idea.

Still, you try.

"Zoro! Zoro please! Try to come back please!"

Your begs are cut short by him forcing a forearm against your windpipe. Your voice struggles as he slowly suffocates you.

He adjusts himself at some point and your arms free themselves, reaching up to force his forearm away from his throat, your legs kicking under him.

You are struck by the blankness of his face. So much so that you force your eyes shut. You think it would be easier to handle if he looked angry. His appearance is uncanny. There's no exertion on his features. He's just staring at you, blinking occasionally. There's nothing.

It would be easier if he looked like he had a reason to hurt you. Any emotion. Even joy. You'd prefer seeing joy over this void.

You can't tell if it's worse that he's hurting you or that it looks like he doesn't even care. You know, you know that it's because of the hypnosis that he looks like this, but it's killing you.

You know deep down that he isn't even conscious. He is asleep in his brain while being controlled. He doesn't even know his body is doing this.

It's a small mercy to think at least he won't be tortured with these memories. He won't be able to see his forearm pressed against your neck as you beg him to stop.

He eventually removes his arm from your neck, allowing you to breathe. You can scream for help again. He wrangles your arms back to your sides and leans forward to grab your sword.

His knee digs into your side as he examens the blade. You begin pleading like your life depends on it. In a way, it does.

Maybe you'll be able to contact the sleeping consciousness in his head and wake it up. Have him take over again. You can only hope.

"Zoro, let me go. Zoro, please, please stop this." You start to cry. It's pathetic but it's your only defense at the moment. You can't hurt him.

He moves the sword against your arm, dragging the blade across your skin, watching the red line appear and begin to bleed.

You can feel the blood trickle down your arm as he moves to your opposite shoulder, drawing a line across it, 'accidentally' scratching the skin of your cheek with the pointed tip of the sword.

You continue to scream and cry and beg. You need your crewmates. You need backup.

You watch as Zoro lines up the blade perpendicular to the ground, the tip sitting on your bleeding shoulder.

"No." You say the word as if it will stop him. Nothing else has. He's still emotionless. Still being controlled.

You feel the blade plunge through your shoulder one second before Zoro's body relaxes.

His eyes go wide and his brow furrows as he tries to understand what just happened. When he sees his hands wrapped around the hilt of your sword, buried in your shoulder, his hands drop it. He's terrified.

He gets pulled off of you and he just sits there, watching as Nami approaches you.

You've never seen Zoro so scared. And yet it's a miracle to see anything on his face.

You're more focused on the pain radiating from your shoulder, trying to pull away from it. You hold back the urge to scream, groaning instead

Nami lifts you up, supporting you against a tree. You can see her mouth moving, asking questions, but your vision drifts to Zoro, who sits confined within the hold of the rest of the crew.

His eyes are haunted. They're talking to him but he isn't listening.

Your eyes meet and you're glad they finally do. He's there. He's back in there. He's him.

The sword juts out of your shoulder, standing up, supported by your body. Nami removes it, launching you into another pained yell before trying to silence yourself.

Nami is quick to work with a field dressing, patching up the bloody wound and covering up the cut on your arm. You'll need more help when you get out of the forest, but it does the job for now.

Nami doesn't try to get any answers from you. She just wipes the the blood and dirt off your arm and hastily wraps it up.

You read her lips and listen hard to understand her. She says you're so close to the edge of the forest. You're thankful, but fear eats away at you. It consumes your mind, squirming through your guts.

You want to throw up, or sob, or both. You end up crying, every other breath interrupted by gagging, but since you haven't eaten all day, nothing comes out.

You can see Zoro and the boys watching this and as much as it hurts to see him scared, you're still glad you can see his emotions.

He's horrified. Fear and grief rush across his face. He knows he did this to you. His eyes briefly dart to the man lying on the ground. Unconscious. He can't take control anymore. He doesn't have to. He's done enough damage.

Your hearing slowly returns and you look at Nami. "What happened?" You know what happened. You remember every grimy detail. You just want the slim chance of being told that it was a dream. A hallucination. That it hadn't actually happened.

"One of those hypnotists found you. He took control of Zoro. He was forced to attack you."

You nod, numb. You want to talk about how scary it was, but Zoro is sitting right there, eyes full of concern, staring right at you. His focus never wavers.

You let your head fall against the tree. You just want to go back to the ship. "I wanna go." You mumble at the ground, feeling hollow.

Zoro walks at the very front of the group, next to Luffy and you walk at the back, supported by Nami. This way you have the feeling of security and confirmation that he won't attack you.

"Let's get you back to the ship." She helps you up and after some silent discussion, an arrangement is made.

You know he won't. Since the hypnotist is out of the picture, everything should be alright. And yet, your brain replays the pain. The fear itches at you and there's a sinking feeling in your stomach.

Zoro wouldn't hurt you of his own accord, but he could be forced into doing it.

You try not to think about how any of the people around you could be manipulated into doing the same.

Sanji and Usopp stand as a buffer between Zoro an you, like some sort of extra protection. You feel like it's excessive, but you don't say anything. Neither does Zoro.

You can tell Zoro wants to look back at you. You see muscles in his neck twitch as he debates looking at you, making sure you're okay.

He turns around once, and you flinch. It's not intentional and it drives shards of ice through your stomach. You're scared of him.

As you walk, you realize the strange fact that Zoro shouldn't apologize. Nothing about this situation was his fault. The actions done against you aren't his. He has no reason to apologize. It's not his fault, but you know the hypnotist isn't going to feel the guilt.

This is the kind of experience that would bring you to his side, snuggling deep into his arms, trying to escape the feeling of your attacker. But when it was him who had attacked you, you didn't know what to do. You craved his touch, but it was his touch that had hurt you in the first place. The arms that kept you warm and protected had suffocated you. The hands that usually wiped away your tears had driven the blade into your shoulder.

You can't stop thinking about it. It replays over and over again in your head. You see Zoro's face hovering over yours. You feel him hurting you. It makes your heart break.

You have to stop for a second when you realize that you don't think you can be left alone with him. Not after that horrific encounter.

Out of the forest finally, you see the sun. It isn't a good sign. It's a dawn on this new trauma.

A doctor fixes you up properly, telling you to rest and what to do and what to eat and drink. You barely listen. Everything is wrong.

There's a celebration for your acts of heroism. For freeing the town from those hypnotists who have been controlling them for years. You don't enjoy it. You pretend like nothing happened in the forest. That your injuries were accidents, and earned in a direct altercation with a hypnotist. A lie, and a terrible one. You and Zoro stand far apart whenever necessary.

You don't know how to feel. You aren't angry at him. You don't blame him. He did nothing wrong. The hypnotist is to blame. But every time you tell yourself that, you flash back to the forest floor, watching Zoro position your sword over your shoulder.

That night, you sleep alone in the room you usually share with Zoro. He bunks with the boys.

The room is empty, but you can't sleep next to him. Every inch of you is simultaneously asking to run into his arms and force yourself as far away from him as possible.

The crew leaves in the morning, without much discussion. The boat just floats away from the harbour, leaving a horrific scene behind you.

For the first few days, you handle things without much trouble. You do your best to avoid thinking about the situation and risk getting riled up. You are forced to stay in bed, which makes the task of not thinking about it much harder, but there's usually someone there to accompany you.

Zoro doesn't visit. You suspect he doesn't want to hurt you further by appearing like a memory of what you've just experienced, but it doesn't feel right to not have him there. The others don't ask if you want to see him for fear of agitating you and you don't say anything about it because your mouth zips up of its own accord any time you ask about him coming to see you.

"How is Zoro?" You finally force out one day, during Nami's visit. You trust her to give it to you straight. "He's not doing good. He blames himself." You shake your head. "It's not his fault."

Nami sighs. "We know. He's the one having trouble. He misses you, but he doesn't want to visit and scare you." She looks over, an unspoken question finally coming to light.

"Do you want him to visit?" She watches the way your mouth closes and your body freezes, stopping you from answering. "You can say no. I won't tell him that you did."

You don't answer, the ever present conflict in your head raging on. You sit on the bed, feeling emotionally exhausted as your silence answers for you.

"That's okay. Take your time. Sanji will bring you dinner later, okay?" You just nod, mouth wired shut. It's too much.

For the first few nights, you sleep out of exhaustion, but once you're caught up on sleep, it wears off.

You suddenly can't sleep at night. You'll wake up at random times for no reason and it takes incredible amounts of willpower to get back to sleep.

It's midnight, and you don't even feel tired. Your thoughts return to him, defending him while your brain tries to fight you off with images of him hurting you.

The bruise on your neck has almost disappeared, and your arm is much better. You suspect the stab wound will have a scar, but the cut managed to heal quite well, only a slight line remaining on your skin.

In the morning, you are expected to make your grand return, allowed out of bed, but as of right now, you need to get out. The world is sour and you can't stay in the room you are supposed to share with Zoro any longer.

You step outside, hoping whoever's on watch duty understands that you need this.

Initially, you want to find Zoro and just see him. Know that he's safe. That he's still there, even if your mind can only conjure images from that fateful day.

You pass by the boys' room without stopping. You don't want to rouse them from their sleep anyways, so you just walk around outside.

The cool night air wraps around you, making you shiver. Your skin comes alive with small bumps in reaction to the chill.

The sky is clear and the water is calm. It's a perfect night. There's no wind, at best it's a breeze, and only the sounds of water lapping at the hull of the ship to help lull people to sleep.

You sit on the deck, staring out at the water, vast, blue, and unforgiving. You feel something bubble up in you, but it's as if the bubbles are made of tar, floating lazily upwards, popping and coating your insides with a sticky, black ichor.

You feel sick, but not like you're about to throw up. You just feel wrong.

You forgot the night watch schedule, who wouldn't after what you'd been through, but it means that Zoro is the first to see you out of your room. He shirks his duties slightly, focusing his attention on you.

He faces your back, watching uneven breaths take your body. He isn't sure if he should go inside and wake someone else up to deal with this. He isn't sure of anything. He can't stop envisioning you after he was freed from the control. Eyes wide, bleeding profusely from a wound brought on by his hand. He feels completely unable to do anything to help you.

He hasn't seen you since the celebration back on the island. Even then he had kept his distance.

You seem to have healed well, you've regained some movement in your shoulder, limited as it is. He's grateful that you haven't been hurt permanently. That would be awful.

He takes a step towards the rooms, planning to fetch Nami, he thinks she'll be the best help you can get, but his foot drags and you pick up on the noise, whipping around to face him.

You look up at the elevated deck he stands on, both of you are frozen in place. He looks blank again. But not in the way the hypnotist had done it. Instead of a lack of emotion, there's too much. He has so much to feel, and only a limited space to express it.

Concern and worry are visible on his face and you remind yourself that this is Zoro. He doesn't want to hurt you. He would never intentionally hurt you. He loves you and he wants you to be safe.

You mind counters this with reminders of how it felt to struggle beneath him, unable to get through to him, to bring him back.

After a while, he takes a cautious step forwards. You don't move away.

"Can we talk?" The question is one you've heard him ask once, when he first confessed his feelings to you.

He doesn't typically engage in conversation, but times are difficult. Changes need to be made. You take him up on his offer.

"Yes. Come down here." Your words are stilted and sound forced. Your heart pounds in your chest as he comes down to you, every movement careful and precise.

When he reaches the same level as you, he keeps his distance, backed up against the railing, allowing you to make the boundary.

He's never been good with this kind of thing. Vulnerability. It isn't easy for him. Which surprises you even more when he begins the conversation.

"Is there anything I can do? To help?" You stare blankly for a second before shrugging. "I don't know." You want everything to stop. You can't stand it.

"I'll keep my distance, if that's what you want." "I don't." The words slip out without warning. For once, your body doesn't stop you from trying to reach out to him. It's the truth. If it's going to hurt with or without him, you want him anyways.

"I want," you search for the words, forcing your head down, staring at the deck. "You. With me." You say it to the wooden boards of the deck, trying to keep yourself balanced as the pent up emotions threaten to overtake you.

"But I need to go back to the start. With the touching." You're surprised at how well the words come out.

Zoro hadn't been overly touchy before you were together, but after a while, the two of you were nearly always touching in some way. He already misses it, but he knows he'll do whatever it takes. You're worth it.

"Yes. Of course." He bows his head to you, nervously.

You think back to the beginning. The first days with him. Small touches. Nothing too strong. Brushing hands, gently pressing against each other when there was no room for personal space.

He used to kiss your hand.

It had made you laugh when he first did it, mocking some romantic man the two of you had been watching. It grew into a joke, and then it was serious. Any time he wanted to make you smile, he would kiss your hand.

And so, as an offering of new beginnings, you slowly walk across the deck towards him, pushing away the memories from that day.

He stays still, trying not to scare you. You take his hand and he lets you guide it up towards your face. His hand is warm in yours.

"Start small." You whisper to yourself, reminding him of the way you spoke to him in the beginning.

"Let's start small." He had said, knowing neither of you were ready to dive in, to have the full experience off the bat.

"Okay." He said quietly, barely a breath in the wind. You lift his hand up, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it.

He's glad it's dark and nobody else can see him because his face is as red as they come.

You can tell though. The slightly flustered look is all you need to see to know he's the exact same shade as a tomato.

You smile and his heart flutters.

"I love you Zoro." The words start to flow easier and for a brief moment things feel normal again. "It's nobody's fault, but I'm sorry we have to do this."

He resists the urge to lean over and kiss your forehead. "I tried to attack him. It's my fault we're in this mess."

You let go of his hand and turn your face serious, watching him carefully. "It was nobody's fault. Not mine, not yours, not Luffy or Usopp or Nami's either. The blame lies on that damned man and his hypnotic eyes. And it's over now. Nothing can be done about it." Zoro nods and reaches out a hand, an offering for you to take, if you should want it.

"To new beginnings?" He says gently and you can tell he doesn't expect you to take his hand. Maybe to surprise him, you do.

Your injured arm raises up, the fingers slide between his, lightly holding him. His fingers wrap around your hand, light enough to let you pull away without resistance should you have to. He's strangely good at helping you.

The two of you sit in silence, your hands sitting between you.

Carefully, you try something risky. You lower your hands and move closer. You just want to try. To know if it feels awful.

You press your body to his and he is deathly still. His breath hitches and you wonder if he knows you can tell he's about to cry.

You wrap your free arm around his body, giving him a gentle squeeze. "Your turn." You mumble into his chest. You feel his arm move. Your heart jumps, but you can't tell if it's out of fear or love. You decide to let it happen anyways.

His arm carefully wraps around your back, holding you to him.

You look up to see a single tear dripping down his face, a sight that makes you want to cry yourself.

You decide that you need this. You cry in his embrace as well. It feels like normalcy. It feels like home.

You separate after a while. It's a bittersweet parting, but your hands stay together.

"Tomorrow, please come back to our room." You say quietly. You don't know how this will work, but you know it will, and that's enough.

To new beginnings indeed.