#drawing this a little bit in the manner I might if I was going to risograph print it (this is because risographs have eaten my mind)

[chiropteracupola]

But were I at rest neath yonder tree / O, why would you weep, my friends, for me?

[annual pentecost waite for @pentecostwaite]

[phagodyke]

there's an artist I rly like not naming names but one of their ocs looks EXACTLY like [redacted person ik irl] and it always makes me double take whenever they draw them bc for a second im always like ohhh.. that's them..... but they wouldn't do that... it makes me feel soo strange

[azen13]

I loved your recent Dan Heng posting so so much!!! I’m not the original requester however

Reading it made my mind wander into how Dan Heng would react to a darling who is just so smitten with him (even his more awkward habits) that they recognize his yandere behavior and tease him about it while also kind of playing into it?

My mind keeps running through ideas of a darling that shows up to hang out with him all the time and is just over the moon when he hovers around them in a possessive manner…

Plus I think darling might also be just a teeny tiny bit obsessed with Dan Heng as well (I know I am 🤭)

I’m cutting my ramblings off here because I could go on all day about the ideas this glorious man springs into my brain but I don’t wanna subject you to them all hehe

— Dan Heng Anon

CW: Yandere Themes, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Cuddling, Sleeping Together, Kissing

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Anon, I genuinely love this idea so much! I can definitely see the vibe. As I said in my other post about Dan Heng, I think he's relatively subtle in terms of how he expresses his possessive tendencies: a hand on your shoulder; a command clothed as a suggestion; a redirection of your attention back on him.

But when you start feeding into his behavior?

The first thing that happens to him is that he practically short-circuits. You show up to his room one night, pillow and blanket in hand, face dim with fatigue but eyes shining with mischief. Your room is too warm, you complain. He hasn't even processed what you've said before you slip through the doorway and plop your bedding near his, fluffing up your pillow and arranging your space how you like it.

You fall asleep almost instantly; the next morning, you proclaim you slept better on the hard flooring of Dan Heng's room than any night in your soft bed.

Dan Heng stays up the whole night, studying your face like an astronomer, trying to understand the way you seem to orbit around him. Maybe the forces of attraction have finally gone in his favor, drawing you close to him.

As the days pass, he begins to reciprocate your signals. When the Astral Express splits up on missions, he ensures you're always with him, regardless of how March and the Trailblazer pout. He'll send them a flat, unimpressed stare, your hand and his tightly intertwined. Himeko and Welt notice, but don't say anything. They underestimate Dan Heng's love, the true gravity of the situation is much stronger than they perceive it to be.

In public, Dan Heng manages to keep it together, though you make it difficult with how you cling to his side. He can't help but want to be protective of you when there are strangers sidling next to you. Any chance he can get, he makes sure he's walking closer to the center of the road.

In the privacy of his room, though, he becomes much more clingy. Night after night you arrive at his door and make yourself at home on the floor, and each night, you sleep a little closer to him. Soon enough, your hand is squeezing him as you dream; then his arm is looped around your shoulder; two pairs of legs tangled together beneath mismatched bedsheets; his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in the faintest traces of perfume.

Then you don't show up one night.

Dan Heng spends hours waiting. He's normally not very fidgety, but tonight his foot taps a frantic tempo against the floor, eyes glued to the door.

Eventually, he gets up and heads to your room. The lights are dim, but he can see a sly smile playing on your lips like Cupid readying another arrow to fire at his heart. You've done it on purpose, and it both amuses and annoys him.

With a huff, he walks over to your bed and hoists you up into his arms. You make no move to get out of his grip, eyes sparkling playfully; you're just as entranced with him as he is with you, two stars orbiting each other.

Unceremoniously, he plops you down on his makeshift bed in the data bank, settling beside you. His arms loop around your torso, pulling you close. "I don't appreciate your prank," he grumbles.

You can't help but laugh. "I'm sure you don't." It's amusing to see Dan Heng pouting. His expression is relatively neutral, but you can see sulkiness in his eyes, feel how he squeezes you a little tighter than most nights.

"I want you to stay with me."

You smile, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I will."

[cevansbrat0007]

Indecent Exposure Pt. I: Bye Bye, Daddy

Summary: You get more than you bargained for when your father decides to leave you in the care of his four best friends, your fake Uncles, while he's on away on tour for the summer. Read Part Two!

Warnings: Mature Themes, Bucky Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Unwanted Touching, Dad's Best Friend Themes, Older Men/Younger Women Themes, Brief Discussions of Voyeurism, Brief Mentions of Mouth Soaping, Brief Reference to Spanking and Discipline, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Please heed all warnings. Part of my Indecent Exposure Series. If you'd like to be added to the tag list, please let me know.

"But Daaaad.” You whine, drawing out the word as you follow your father into the kitchen. Shoulders slumped, you can’t seem to stop yourself from pouting. 

While you’d initially made peace with the prospect of being left alone for the practically the entire summer before you planned to start your freshman year at NYU, you positively balked at the idea being left in the care of a fucking babysitter. 

Four of them, actually.

“No buts, pumpkin.” Your father drops his carry-on bag next to the door, on top of his other luggage. “It’s not good for you to be stuck in this big old house all by your lonesome. You even said as much just the other week.”

“Yeah, well…” You trail off, pissed at the fact that you’d essentially brought this on yourself. “That was back when you weren’t even sure if you were going.”

At first, your old man had been rather skeptical at going on tour with his former bandmates. They’d had a couple hits back in the day, but nothing major. Even still, they’d somehow managed to amass a bit of a cult following. 

And so when he was offered the opportunity to open for a much larger classic rock band, he just couldn’t pass it up. And you hadn’t had the heart to make him either. Dreams like this seldom came true for anybody, let alone a mild-mannered pharmacist who was pushing fifty. 

“Why can’t you at least take me with you?”

He turns to you then, heaving a sigh before pulling you into his arms. "Life on the road is no place for my little girl. Which is why I’ve asked your Uncles to check-in on you.” He presses a gentle kiss on your mop of curly hair, giving you one last squeeze before releasing you.

“And this is where I’d like to point out that I’m 18 years old, which makes me a full-fledged adult.“ Wrapping your arms around your middle, you try to play it off like you don’t care about him leaving so soon after your birthday. 

But you do. While your birthday had only been last week, you two hadn't even had the chance to embark on your annual fishing trip yet.

“I know that. Of course I know that.” He’s quick to reassure you. “And as a newly minted adult I’m sure you’ll be on your own some nights – the ones when Bucky can’t stay and none of your other uncles are available.”

“Ugh! Can you please stop calling them that?”

Little did he know that you were mere seconds away from covering your ears and letting out a frustrated scream. 

“Well, that’s what they are. They may not be blood, but it still counts.” Your father just shakes his head. Apparently he hadn’t expected you to put up this much of a fight before his departure. “And while it might be true that it’s been a while since you’ve seen your uncles, each one has assured me that they would be more than delighted to keep an eye out for their favorite niece.”

“Dad, I don’t even know them like that! At least not anymore...”

You’re rewarded with yet another weary sigh. “Then it looks like you’ll have the whole summer to get reacquainted with them then, won’t you?” His hands go to grip your shoulders, all but forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Besides, Buck’ll be around. I’m sure he’ll help ease you into everything.”

It’s impossible to stop the derisive snort that escapes the back of your throat. 

“Sweetheart, my ride is going to be here any minute now…” He tells you, making it clear that neither one of you has time for the tantrum you seem so keen on throwing. “You’ve gotta know that I only want what’s best for–”

The two of you are interrupted by the sound of a vehicle pulling into your driveway. And while you don’t recognize it, you’re almost certain that it’s too sleek and expensive to belong to any Lyft driver. 

“Speak of the devil!” Your father suddenly exclaims before throwing open the door and rushing down the steps. Which is fine, except for the part when he decided to drag you along with him. “Bucky fuckin’ Barnes – just in the knick of time too!”

Well, there went Plan A. So much for locking up the house after your Dad was gone and refusing to answer the fucking door for anyone except the pizza delivery guy. 

However, in spite of your annoyance and frustration, you can’t help the tiny jolt of electricity that hums along your skin as you watch the dark haired man peel himself out of the driver’s seat so that he can properly greet you both.  

“Get a look at you, old man!” Bucky chuckles as he enthusiastically brings your Dad in for a hug, lightly thumping his back as he does. “Can’t believe somebody actually fucked up and told you you got to be a rockstar!”

Your uncle’s smile only broadens when he finally lays eyes on you. But it’s the way he’s looking at you that catches your attention – it’s not quite a leer – but his blatant perusal is enough to make you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. 

“I know!” Comes your Dad’s eager response. “That’s why I’m trying to get out of here before whoever signed off on this sobers up and realizes his mistake.” Both men are grinning from ear to ear when they finally take a step back. 

And that’s when all eyes turn to you. 

“And who’s this gorgeous young lady?” Bucky inquires, his pearly white teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he makes a quiet show of looking you over once again, this time allowing his gaze to linger just a fraction too long on your cutoff denim shorts. 

“Oh, come on now.” Good ol’ Dad reaches over to grab your wrist, pulling you even closer. Which is the absolute last thing you want. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize your niece.” 

“Is that my sweet, little Clover?” Bucky pretends to rub exaggeratedly rub his eyes while evoking your childhood nickname. “I guess it is. Except now she’s all grown up.” Your Dad drops your wrist in time for the other man to grab your hand so that he can give you a little twirl. "Just turned 18, in fact."

“I heard. So pretty.” He hums, although the words are spoken just low enough so that only you can hear them. “You’ve got yourself a knockout for a daughter, Dale.” You resist the urge to squirm when you feel the roughened pad of his thumb lightly stroke along the ridges of your knuckles. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you kept a shotgun by the door.” 

While you suspect that his words are meant in jest, the only person that laughs is the man who raised you. 

“I actually keep it in the front closet. Which reminds me…” You father turns to you then, pinning you with a knowing look. “Now pumpkin, I know you're not super excited about the current arrangement and all that, but I’d appreciate it if you’d, uh, refrain from having any boys over at the house while I’m gone.” 

You swiftly open your mouth to protest, only to be surprised when Bucky beats you to the punch. 

“Roger that.” He grins down at you, the dimple in his left cheek on full display. “Your Daddy said no boys allowed, little Clover. Do we have your promise you’re gonna respect his wishes?”

Tugging your hand out his grasp, you turn your attention to your Dad, offering up a sugary sweet smile. “But what about Peter? You actually like him, remember? Besides, he’s pretty much my best friend.”

“Well…”

Because you couldn’t fathom the idea of a summer without him. And you just know he’s going to relent and make an exception. That is, until Bucky decides to go and open up his mouth. 

“You heard your Daddy, sweetheart.” He gently admonishes you, a hint of mockery in his tone. “Besides, I don’t think any of your uncles want to have to deal with strange boys wandering around the house.”

“Good man.” Your father agrees, clapping the other man on his shoulder. “And speaking of Andy, Ari, and Steve, this one here is a little nervous about seeing them again. I don’t know why. I mean it’s been a while since everyone’s gotten together…”

“Aww, bug.” He coos, wrapping a brawny arm around your much smaller waist. “Are you worried we don’t love you anymore?” You find yourself gritting your teeth to keep from elbowing him in the kidney. 

Why the hell did he have to make that sound so…suggestive? And how come your father didn't seem to notice? 

“No.” You grunt, hating the man for having the nerve to smell so damned good – like spiced vanilla and cedar. 

“Because we most certainly do. You know, Andy was just looking at your senior picture the other day.” His large, warm hand settles just above the curve of your hip. “He actually sent it to the group chat and none of us could believe just how much our little Clover had blossomed. Right under our noses.”

“A–awesome.” You mumble, wishing he would stop touching you so much. It did funny things to your belly, which you did not appreciate.

“I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it when he gets here.” 

Shock has your mouth falling open, briefly leaving you almost too stunned to make a sound. And to make matters worse, your father’s Lyft picks that very moment to pull up behind Bucky’s sports car. 

“What?” You eventually croak. Not that you receive much of a response, what with both men choosing to abandon you in favor of grabbing luggage and loading it into the driver’s trunk. 

“Alright, pumpkin.” Your Dad calls out once they’ve got everything secured. “I’ll call you from the road. I left instructions on the fridge and with Bucky. You need anything you call me, okay?” 

Seconds later you find yourself pulled into a bear hug. And, because you don’t know when you’ll see him again, you choose not to argue or struggle. You can only hug him back as if your life depends on it. 

“Be good.” He mumbles in your hair. “Listen to your uncles. It may not seem like it, but they know what's best. And you have my word that they care about you just as much as I do.” 

“Okay.” Is all you can muster as you fight back tears. “I–I love you.”

“You know it.” He holds you even tighter. “To the moon and back, plus the galaxy and beyond.” Smiling when he releases you, you watch him climb into the waiting car before giving him one last wave. 

And then he’s gone. You watch unmoving as the car backs out of the driveway and takes off down the road in the direction of the airport. It takes a moment for you to remember that you’re alone now.

Left to your own devices for the entire fucking summer. 

“Save those pretty tears, Clover.” You jump when you feel a hand press against the small of your back. “You’ve got us – me, Andy, Ari, and Steve – and won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Bucky whispers, his mouth hovering just above your ear.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” You growl, stomping towards the front door.

“Fair warning, sweetheart.” He calls after you, his voice tinged with laughter as he goes to follow you inside. “Your Uncle Steve doesn’t like that kind of language. And I’m afraid Uncle Andy isn’t the type to put up with that attitude either.”

“Then tell them they should keep their asses home!” You snap as you reach the stairs, taking them two at a time all the while silently praying that he doesn’t follow.

“All I’m saying is that I’d hate to see Stevie have to wash out that pretty little mouth out with soap.” He calls from the bottom of the stairs, no longer bothering to hide his laughter. 

The fucking pervy bastard was enjoying this!

You slam your door with a flourish, briefly reveling in the sound it makes as it shakes the entire frame. If Bucky, or any of your so-called uncles thought you were still that same, sweet little girl you used to then they were in for one hell of a rude awakening.

Fuck! You’re so busy fuming over your current situation that you have no idea what’s taking place quite literally beneath your feet. For tonight, you decide that ignorance is bliss. If you got hungry later you’d just have to find something on DoorDash.

You throw yourself on your bed with a huff, punching your pillow over and again until you feel some of the rage leave your body. This summer was going to fucking blow unless you found a way to stay busy away from the house. 

Meanwhile, Bucky has taken a seat at the bottom of the stairs. Pulling out his phone he opens the group chat he has with his buddies and proceeds to start typing. Call it intuition, but he had a feeling that he and his friends getting reacquainted with their precious little Clover was going to make for one hell of summer.

Oh yes, this was going to make for one hell of a summer indeed.

END

Unofficial Taglist:

@cjand10

[thecosmiccrow]

Disassembly Drone Body Langauge part 1

Mostly wings and some tail

probably gonna add some more unique ones once i figure this out properly. hrmmm

my important ones are the upwards wing pose being territorial / courting, and the tail wag being happy or on edge.

Some extras that i might draw later if i figure out how idk:

They will naturally wrap their tails around people they like in a wide arc. It’s something that could go unnoticed, even by the DD, as they just do it subconsciously. You can figure out who a DD is protective over this way.

Pointing their wings outwards but flattening them (rotating them into a horizontal pose instead of a vertical one) and crouching down a little is seen as being submissive. Dominant ones will normally have their wings positioned wider and vertical.

Also some elaborations because i like talking about shit i make up:

Sometimes when courting they’ll shake their wings a little bit to make them appear glittery or more flashy, which makes some soft clinking noises.

Their tails abide by dog and cat-like mannerisms. They wag when happy, tuck them under their legs when scared or worried, will slowly wave them around when agitated.

N does this unique (and cute!) thing where he holds his tail in his hands when he’s worried like some stuffed animal. kind of

anyways i love non-verbal methods of communication and i will do this again

[okwonyo]

being asked out in front of them.

엔하이픈 ୨୧ female reader seven hundred non-idol au fluff established relationship + cw. not proof-read skinship kissing ( other )

heeseung would definitely be the jealous type, but he would try to not overdo it. would watch the scene from a little behind you; eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed while he watches the stranger talking to you. would come wrapping his arms around you after you tell the stranger that you have a boyfriend, would pull you a little bit closer to you while he makes eye contact with the other and a little smirk would toy on the corner of his lips.

jay would be more worried about your discomfort that anything else. would hold your waist, drawing you closer to his circle of warmth. would lean closer to you, until his lips brushes against your ear, barely paying any attention to the individual in front of of the both of you. “is he bothering you?” he would ask you, and it would make you giggle, comically reminding you of those scenes of in movies. then the stranger would eventually fade in background at some point.

jake would be flabbergasted — his eyes would grow wide when he sees a stranger talking to you, with a look plastered on their face that he wouldn’t appreciate at all. this whole situation would utterly convince him that he cannot leave you alone for two seconds, given the fact that he stopped being clingy to look at some t-shirt and this would happen right after. there is no way he wouldn’t be all over you after.

sunghoon would notice a pair of eyes lingering too much on your features for his own liking, the moment it starts. would watch the stranger hit on you without little to no shame at all, you would be able to feel his glare from where you are, which is a few meters ahead of him. “what was that?” he would ask you when you come back to him, eyebrows furrowed as he watches the stranger from afar. “me? ... jealous? of course.”

sunoo would be so shocked, what do you mean it’s not evident that you two are a couple? would give the stranger the most disgusted grimace ever, scanning the individual’s figure from up to down and confusion would grow in him as the realization of the situation does too. his expression would quickly transform into a cheesing smile when you reject the stranger’s advance— would happily walk around with you with his hand in yours.

jungwon would gape at you when the stranger comes to you, with his arm around your waist, you would be able to see multiple questions marks appearing above his head when you two make eye contact. would nod along while you reject the stranger, his eyebrows going up in a charming manner he isn’t even aware of, clearing his throat when the offer is asked for a second time: just to make sure he is acknowledged here. would give you a soft kiss in front of the unknown individual, smirking against your mouth.

riki would totally just stand behind you, close still, his tall frame towering over yours and, most definitely, staring at whoever is asking his girlfriend out right in front of his face. as ridiculous as it sounds, would be extremely relieved when you reject the stranger, he wouldn’t be able to tell you why but he would be happy. would be smiling smiling so widely for the rest of the day and might even lay in bed while kicking his feet in the air while he thinks about it.

have this as i prepare some heeseung boyfie texts ><

[thebestofoneshots]

A LITTLE BIT OF PAINT | TEASER

Piring: R.L. x S.B. x reader Prompt: Sirius and you are art students and you’ve gotten an assignment, a nude painting, but you can’t paint each other. Trying to convict Remus to model for you was hard enough, but painting him, while he looks so damn stunning, might prove a harder endeavour to accomplish. Warnings: the complete story will contain smut (this has some mild teasing and a few nudе scenes)

“So?” Sirius asked as he leaned onto Remus, “would you do it?” 

“Pretty please?” you asked with a small pout and a few blinks. 

Remus sighed, “Why don’t you just paint each other?” 

Both you and Sirius had been trying to convince Remus to be your nude model for an assignment for the last 20 minutes. He was your best friend, and both you and Sirius had always wanted to use him as a model, but had never been too keen to do it, not even clothed. But you needed him now. 

“We can’t do someone we’ve fucked,” Sirius said with a sigh, “We’d already done it otherwise.” 

“Just use each other and draw a face from a magazine,” Remus offered. 

“It won’t work either,” you responded now, “We’ve both been models for the class, they know our bodies. We wouldn’t be asking you if we didn’t need you, please Moony!” Remus looked to the side, licking his lips before biting on the bottom one and sighing, however could he say no to the two of you.

“Okay,” he whispered.

(...)

You took your hoodie off and then, but it wasn’t until you took a hold of your shirt and flipped it over your head that Remus realised what was going on. Your hands were behind your bra when he averted his gaze to the side completely blushed. “Sirius, If you’re painting her, can I leave?” 

“Of course not,” Sirius said simply, “I’m painting the both of you.” 

“You what?” 

“Eros and Psyche, remember?” 

“But you said you couldn’t paint people you’ve fucked,” he retorted in a rather accusing manner. 

“Yeah, that’s why I’ll switch her hair colour and you’ll cover her face.” 

“You never said I’d have to pose with your naked girlfriend!” 

“It’s okay Rem, I don’t mind, I’ve been a nude model for the class a couple of times.” 

Remus, as he would naturally turn to look at you when you spoke, but quickly turned his head to the side when he realised you were now completely naked. 

But I do! He thought as he tried to think of anything other than the curve of your breasts. Naked grandma, naked grandma.

You eyed Sirius, “Maybe we can–“ you started, biting your lip. 

“Nonsense. We’re all adults, go on.” 

You gave Sirius a stern look and he gave you back an equally determined one, nodding towards Remus, a clear indication for you to walk his way. 

You took a deep breath but did what he wanted anyway. Walking towards Remus and gently placing a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, If you really don’t want to do this-“

Remus’ head snapped your way, he focused his eyes on yours as best as he could, “No, I– I just– I wasn’t mentally prepared.” 

You smiled and tilted your head. You could see the self-restraint he was using not to look at your chest, Sirius was really trying not to cackle behind you as he sharpened his pencils, “You can look,” you said, “you’re gonna see them anyway Rem.” He gave you a frustrated frown. You smiled teasingly in return. 

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked. He was about ready to just stare for half a second and then move on with his life but he couldn’t quite look away. Not when he saw them perk up for him, his warm breath so close to you causing such a reaction. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Sirius said with a smile from behind the easel. The kind of confident smile of one who knew he could touch them whenever he wanted. 

Remus cleared his throat and looked at Sirius. “Go on with your painting, yeah?” 

“You haven’t even posed,” he retorted with a smile. You turned your head over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend, “where do you want me?”

Remus tried not to think of those words, and not to memorise them either. He didn’t want to have dreams about it.

(...)

“Not really,” you said honestly, leaning your head on his shoulder a little more, that was something you had done often, with clothes, though. “I’ve never modelled with anyone other than Sirius. I only said I would because it would be you.” 

“You what?” Remus asked, you accommodated and your lips accidentally brushed against his neck, he felt the blush spreading, he was losing control. He couldn’t keep thinking of a naked grandma when he had you pressed against him, whispering on his neck, your warm breath against his skin igniting him like a match against dry leaves. 

A LITTLE BIT OF PAINT IS OUT NOW!!

Click on the link to read the full version

[innerfare]

Zoro Fluff // Angst Compilation 

Summary: A compilation of Zoro angst and fluff from my multi character posts (You're Wounded, Brushing Your Teeth Together, Flowers, Type of Date, You See His Cabin, Fighting and Making Up, Paradise, Nightmares, I Love You, You're Jealous).

Genre: Fluff // Angst

CW: None // SFW

———

You’re Wounded: 

Lectures you on your fighting form, tears into you for taking any unnecessary risks, gets on your case about not seeking medical attention fast enough. Tells you to get some rest, sits at your bed side until you’re better, claims he’s not there for you and is just resting his own eyes. 

Brushing Your Teeth Together: 

Reaches for whichever toothbrush is closest. If it’s his, it’s his, and if it’s yours, it’s also his. He’ll also talk to you while he’s brushing his teeth and get annoyed when you can’t understand the muffled words. 

Flowers: 

He won’t really think to buy you flowers until one day you mention that camellias are pretty. He takes that to mean you like camellias, specifically, and not that you’d like to receive flowers in general, so he always buys you camellias, and you think it’s so sweet that you never correct him. He’s not actually a proponent of apology flowers because he thinks a ‘bribe’ cheapens it, but he will bring you flowers when he knows you’re having a hard day. He might also buy you a small bamboo plant that you two end up treating a bit like a pet, giving it a name and everything. 

Type of Date: 

He’ll take you to play laser tag, and don’t think for a second you’ll be playing on the same team. You’ll be on opposite teams, and he will not be going easy on you. Zoro doesn’t believe in letting people win. He’ll be briefing his team beforehand, drawing up a strategy because he is determined to win. If you beat him, he won’t propose, but he will decide he’ll be marrying you one day. Would also be content to go see an action movie. 

You See His Cabin For The First Time: 

Your first thought is, why does it smell so freaking good in here? You expected dirty laundry strewn around and the stench of sweat and maybe a hint of metal from those blades he was always sharpening. And sure, there is a hint of metal in the air, probably more from the many weights against the wall than his swords, but it also smells fresh, like laundry detergent. He has his own wanted posters on his wall- not just the current one, but the old ones, too, all of them lined up in order so you can see his increasing bounty. He also has a collection of unique booze bottles from all over the world, his equivalent of keeping a map with pins in the locations he’s visited. Oh, and there’s an anatomy coloring book and some markers that belong to Chopper that Zoro keeps in his room because sometimes when Chopper is having a bad day, he wants to chill with his dad big bro. 

Fighting and Making Up: 

Stubborn bastard. Refuses to admit that he’s wrong. You guys argue over lots of little things, usually directions, that don’t really require either of you two to apologize; there’s just some near-constant bickering in your relationship that is your love language. More seriously, you’ve fought because, for lack of a better term, Zoro doesn’t exactly have a bedside manner and can be overly blunt. You’ve also fought over the fact that so many women are clearly attracted to him and he’s completely oblivious. He’s not the type to flirt back, but it bothers you that he doesn’t notice because you feel like he doesn’t shut it down when he should (though he argues that by not noticing, he is, in a way, shutting it down). Not one to apologize with flowers because he feels that cheapens it, a bit like a bribe. He’ll just say sorry and that’s that. Sometimes you end up fighting again because he was ready to apologize but you weren’t ready to hear it and he thinks you’re being childish by giving him the silent treatment. 

Paradise 1: 

Waking up to fresh powder blanketing the ground and jumping out of bed, barely getting your boots and one of his coats on before you’re outside, romping through the snow. Falling into a snow bank with your arms out, giggling as you make a snow angel, grinning even wider when he surprises you by laying down beside you and doing the same, letting his inner child show through for a brief moment. 

Paradise 2: 

Tossing and turning in bed, waiting for the clock to strike midnight, sneaking out as soon as it does and meeting them at the spring just inland. Stripping out of your clothes and diving into the warm water with him, splashing each other and floating on your backs, losing track of time and hurrying back to the ship when the moon dips below the horizon. 

Nightmares: 

It was an accident, and he watched it happen. If he’d been just a little stronger, a little faster, a little better, it never would have happened. It was an accident, but it was his fault. He stared down at your lifeless shape covered by a funeral shroud, grinding his teeth in rage at the sight of all those flowers left by mourners. You would have loved to have seen those flowers, to have picked them up, buried your face in them, and inhaled deeply. You would have loved the weather that day, too, bright and sunny, as though the universe was taunting him. When he wakes up, he’s in physical pain from the amount of tension in his muscles. 

I Love You: 

To your surprise, it was Zoro who said it first. Though Zoro seems the type to bottle up his emotions, he’s actually not, he just doesn’t seem emotional because he’s really good at dealing with his shit. And he knows all too well how temporary arrangements can be, how quickly life can be snuffed out, how easily the people he loves and cares about can be taken away from him. So one late night when he’s alone in the shower, washing his hair (using Nami's expensive shampoo and conditioner because she left it in the shower and Zoro just uses whatever's within his reach) and thinking about you, he realizes how he feels, and he doesn’t even consider not telling you. He climbs into bed afterward in just his boxer briefs, his hair still damp and smelling extra good, shakes you awake, kisses you a few times, and mutters that he loves you in your ear before passing out, not even waiting for you to say it back. He doesn’t say it often after that because he doesn’t thinks actions matter more than words, but he always says it when one of you is injured or after an argument. 

You’re Jealous: 

He didn’t mention Perona was also at Mihawk’s castle for those two years until a few months after the crew gets together. He tells a story that features her, and you realize there was a woman keeping him company. Your heart drops into your stomach. Zoro insists he didn’t mention her because he didn’t think she was relevant; the only thing Perona did those two years was annoy him. He’s actually the one who won’t let it go, not you (even though you are pretty jealous). Whereas you’d prefer not to talk about it, Zoro is wracked with guilt because he’d never considered the whole thing in a relationship context. Him fretting constantly over it actually heals your jealousy because you realize you’ve never seen him panic over the prospect of hurting anyone else’s feelings.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[lavendermin]

collar of thorns | blade

blade x reader, fem reader, bodyguard au

wc | 5.1k

genre | hurt and (a tiny bit of) comfort, nsfw, minors do not interact

warnings | implied toxic family dynamics, unhealthy dependency, brief previous torture mention, panic attacks, trauma, blood and brief violence, nudity, blade uses a shower head to get you off (if there’s a term for this lmk I’m drawing a blank rn)

note | mwah thank you to the bestest @nashusglasses for beta reading this 💗 this was supposed to be at most 2k but well… here we are ^^; love blade’s quiet but gentle girldad vibe with the stellaron hunters so this is a loose interpretation of that in a bodyguard au. very self indulgent with a sprinkle of comfort and mostly exploring their dynamics of an evolving relationship

His calculated actions are a conversation—one you have learned to follow, though not without a learning curve. Even in silence there’s more he tells you with a glance alone than words ever could.

It’s experience that Blade has accumulated as your bodyguard for quite a few years. No stranger to your mannerisms and higher quality of life coming from a family with powerful connections and flaunted status.

He knows you well, in his opinion. Head held high but a frail little thing weak in the knees from utter fear and paranoia. Pitiful, he thinks. Like a field mouse braving the jaws of a beast.

Despite being the black sheep of a renowned family, you’re no less a target as a vessel of valuable knowledge— information that some would go to great lengths to gain. No cost is too great, risk and reward leading many astray. Ultimately, it pulls you closer to unraveling. Time and time again.

—

There is protest— displeasure from attendants that arrive on behalf of the main family estate. You aren’t meant to be seen like this— bedridden and flawed and vulnerable.

The instruction was to wait. Wait until you have healed and could properly make yourself presentable. To save your family face, above all else.

But it’s your house, your rules.

The attendant continues to talk your ear off about why this is egregious and why the meeting should be postponed until months later when you’ve healed. It’s what the family ordered.

They might as well have ordered you dead, too. In your current state you’re no different than a deer in an open meadow, a thousand triggers waiting to be pulled.

“No.” Your gaze is blank as you side-eye the attendant by your bedside. “I want him to see— see exactly what my father signed him up for. If he is to be my guard, then he has to be able to handle all aspects of my life. What good is he to me if the unsightly is just that and nothing more?”

The attendant opens their mouth to oppose, but is interrupted by a knock on your room’s door as another attendant exchanges a hushed message. Upon their departure a tall figure is allowed inside— dark, silent.

Heavy is the atmosphere as he stands before you with an air that you can’t quite read. Blade, his name that was briefly provided by your father’s informant days prior.

“The family extends its gratitude for your gracious courtesy to meet with me on such short notice. Things haven’t been going as smoothly as my father would like. And that man does not trust me whatsoever to keep my mouth shut if the worst should happen.” You mutter something bitterly that Blade chooses not to dwell on. Sleepless paranoia has taken quite the toll on you. The dark circles under your eyes are quite unbecoming, though he doesn’t comment on it.

It’s none of his business— not until you tell him it is. Your word now commands him from the second he stepped into the room.

Blade sits across from you in a leather chair, unreadable with a rather guarded posture. His employer’s daughter— his task— is both what he expects and doesn’t expect.

There is a fear that keeps you alive and a defeat that splits your soul. A cacophony of unrest, a cocktail for an isolated soul.

“As you can see, he’s sorely mistaken,” you snort, dry and humorless. The days worth of agony are neatly dressed in gauze and fresh bandages, well on their way to become a blur of many such incidents to come. A recent incident— torture for information, he can only assume. “Regardless, my life is in your hands now.”

Blade nods, a simple acknowledgement. How easily he accepts to be by your side until your final breath.

“More than your duty,” you continue, “you are my trusted companion. My only companion.”

___

There’s little intel Blade could gather on attempts at your life, but that matters less to him from the second he’s hired. Those attempts would not prove successful, at whatever cost. They would only diminish further the longer he was your guard.

Duty-bound and distanced, he does not bother asking further about your past, and neither do you. You know he wouldn’t answer, and you’ve tried.

As a victim of circumstance, you are hard to blame.

Casual conversation is one-sided—a condition you’ve grown accustomed to. The microscopic changes of expression he allows are often response enough for you to carry conversation. You’ve long since stopped thinking too hard about it. No use breaking your heart over minor inconveniences like a petulant, rich brat.

In fact, not once have you heard him speak in your presence. Doesn’t need to, you think.

It’s easier to think that perhaps he holds resentment or dislikes his duty of protecting you. The lack of verbal conversation is often key to that. But Blade is very good at what he does—skilled in the art of reading people with a glance. His gentle gestures despite a blank, forlorn expression speak to the heart. Your heart.

It’s easy— liking him.

“There’s a restaurant that was highly recommended to me. Word of mouth from one of the Iris Family members during last month’s meeting,” you start casually. Sleep is just freshly rubbed from your eyes that morning.

Blade doesn’t respond, as expected, his hands steadily occupied with brushing your hair. Always gentle. More patient than you who yanks at any knots that form. You prefer it when he does it, liking the feeling of little jolts of electricity down your spine at the intimate action. It calms your nerves, he’s noted.

So, he indulges you.

There’s hesitance in your fidgeting hands as you peek at him through the vanity mirror from under your lashes. It easily betrays the stern facade you try to enact. You try your luck anyway. “It looked promising and would be a nice change of pace. I would like to try it out.”

Silence. His hand stills and his gaze is rather cold as he meets your eye. The air in the room shifts, a thick tension that’s palpable. You don’t even flinch.

“Bad idea, I take it. Well, I have an errand in the area regardless— the Oak Family contacted us not long ago and I’m being issued as the initial contact for a new business discussion. It would be an ideal use of our time if we can still pick up some food to bring back afterward.”

His hands resume their brushing, burning-red gaze now a dulled crimson as he focuses on not pulling your hair. A better idea, you take it, as he seems to relent to your veiled suggestion with a quiet sigh. The only clear sign you’ve learned means you won him over.

Blade knows well that you look for little ways to get some wiggle room of normalcy. You’ve never gotten used to this caged-bird life, bound to fear what lies beyond the golden enclosure of silk and honey. Perhaps he pities your cries, like birdsong that longs for a life that doesn’t suffocate you— a life that doesn’t hinge on every day and every interaction being a gamble.

If there is even a fraction of an illusion of that for you, he will turn a blind eye and let you lie to yourself. A moment is enough to soothe your aching heart.

Later in the day you depart for the city. A distraught feeling sits in the pit of your belly. An omen brought by a spike in anxiety that you force out of mind as Blade opens the passenger door for you.

It’s a silent ride across several towns to the location indicated. There’s doubt that gnaws at the back of your mind. Something didn’t seem right with the person that contacted you with the location details for this conference between families. You’ve become much too aware that you’re viewed as an expendable pawn of the family.

But, you’re sure Robin will be there. And a familiar face is just what you need for this to be less of a drag.

Blade seems to sense your hesitance. Wordlessly, he turns on the radio. You worry too much, he seems to criticize with the action. It helps all the same.

But… your spirits seem lighter, more optimistic. A moment of normalcy as you tune out and look out the window at passing city lights and a sun slowly tucking away behind never ending buildings. You’re a person, then.

Even if only briefly.

____

They say a common phenomenon occurs that allows you to register one small, redundant detail when in a state of sudden shock. And you remember it then, clear as day.

7:59 PM.

The time on your cracked phone screen just inches away from you.

The smell of iron and the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. None of it registered quick enough before Blade yanked you harshly out of the way.

And yelling. Muffled and harsh.

Your body is cold with fear, frozen stiff in place. It’s a feeling you haven’t felt since you were a child.

You struggle to get back onto your feet, cowering back toward the alley wall. It gets harder to breathe as panic sets in when your eyes spot Blade clutching his side.

The situation deteriorates further, every passing second a blur of struggle and dark figures. It feels like every emotion is going to burst out of you in a scream. It’s an out-of-body experience, as if you’re watching your own body act on its own trying to put itself between Blade and the attackers.

“Don’t,” he commands—harsher still with urgency. “Stop.”

You freeze at the foreign sound of his voice. There’s no time to process it as crimson seeps through the fresh wound on his side.

You keep hearing his muffled voice tell you to run, run away. Through the pounding in your ears of adrenaline and fear you realize that’s your voice. Hoarse and frantically yelling, pleading for him to run away— you’re hurt, don’t fight anymore.

The rest is a blur as Blade drags you out of the alley, through crowds of nightlife and shoves you into the car. There’s no way of knowing if the pursuit was hot on your tails. It’s a risk Blade could not afford in his current state.

Your mind is numb with fear during the entire process. Every jolt from the roads he speeds through shoots pain through his body— a bloody manifestation of his inadequacy. He hisses and clutches his side, forced to drive with one hand. The sound tears you from your daze for a moment but forces you to experience the present.

There’s red on your hands, your clothes. The smell of iron is putrid as you desperately try to control your breathing. Bile is at your throat and you choke back a sob, like a pitiful kicked dog. You can’t afford to freak out right now and make things worse.

It’s disjointed how your body reacts compared to your mind. You’ve been through worse. You know that. This comfortable life laying low with your bodyguard has spoiled you. He has spoiled you. Your heart is merely a soft pearl now, layers of disjointed affections received and perceived through his tenderness. The base instinct overwrites everything else— all logic, all experience.

This is not normal, it reasons. This shouldn’t be normal.

You want desperately to silence the mind.

The car comes to a slow stop after miles of non-stop driving, and you’re painfully aware of the trembling in your hands. Though you try to hide them by folding them onto your lap, it doesn’t go unnoticed.

Blade’s hand, calloused and marred with drying red, is steady as it closes over your fist. It commands your attention and the lump at your throat threatens to rip a sob from you.

It’s alright now, his piercing red eyes tell you. There’s a tenderness that comes through while his thumb rubs your knuckles to ease your anxiety. He lets his head fall back onto the headrest, a bitter chuckle filling the rigid silence.

Your voice trembles, breathy as it breaks with the urge to cry. “They could have killed you.”

Blade exhales through his nose, eyes still closed as he processes your distress.

“I’m expendable. You must live.” His tone is even, detached. It lacks the usual twinge of warmth and care. It’s as if he’s reading something scripted instead— attempting to avoid overstepping.

“You’re being dishonest with me. That’s not what you want to say. I–”

Your mouth presses into a thin line, his hand squeezing yours.

“I know my father sent them.” There isn’t even hurt in your voice, but a steady bitterness begins to burn at the hearth of your soul. It was high time they deemed you more of a liability than an actual member of the family. You shake your head, and with a deep breath you steady your nerves as best as you can. “That matters less right now. Let's get you cleaned up.”

Staying the night at a hotel much too far from home is less than ideal, but you’re aware Blade won’t risk walking right into another ambush that may be waiting at your doorstep. Best not to compromise the situation further.

Despite the tremble of your lip, your hands are steady and efficient as they work to help clean his wounds. You jolt as your phone vibrates with an incoming call, apologizing as you excuse yourself to the balcony. Blade quietly finishes dressing the cleaned wound on his side. He listens intently as you speak with an Oak Family member on the phone, quickly and quietly.

“No, no. We are safe now. Please keep alert. My contact sent you all available surveillance footage of the area shortly after we departed. We can discuss this further once I look into it. On behalf of,” you pause, a strain on your voice before you compose yourself, “on behalf of the family I apologize for the inconvenience. Thank you, Robin.”

Blade watches you intently from the side. There’s a facade of calm you’re trying desperately to keep up. Perhaps it’s the ‘fight or flight’ that’s still keeping you whole right now. For now, he keeps a close watch over you, every microexpression, every fidget.

There’s hesitance as his left palm rests on the bed. It doesn’t escape your detection as you close the sliding door.

“Give me your hand.” A beat and he relents, red gaze as intense as ever as he watches you kneel before him in silence. “You’re hurt here, too.”

He grunts as if inconvenienced, but lets you do as you please. Indulges you— always does.

With a patient crimson gaze, he observes you. Your heart has never felt so vulnerable than right now.

“It’s not perfect, and I’m no doctor, but…” You pause to look over your work.

Despite trembling hands and less-than-elegant bandaging, you gently bring his knuckles to your lips and press a kiss to each one. A childish gesture he didn’t see you as the type to do. That surely in your naive heart you believe a kiss will make it better— despite the blood and bruises.

And Blade— doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t stop you.

How selfishly he lets your heart devour him.

He gives a silent thanks and moves to sit away from you, making home on the couch with a wince as he adjusts to lay down. The lights are off now, save for your bedside lamp.

Even in the warmth of the lamplight, the feeling of being cold and isolated persists. Alone at the edge of the bed. You want to be selfish and order him to sleep on a proper bed— near you for your peace of mind.

Sleep, he tells you wordlessly with a glance. It’s been a long day.

You worry your lip all the same, seated at the edge of your bedside. Unmoving, tense— your mind reels, replaying the same thing over and over.

7:59 PM.

When the weapon just grazed over his heart and instead hit his side. When the smell of iron, cursed with beautiful crimson, nauseated you.

In the dark, your eyes adjust and watch as Blade’s breathing slows with sleep. It’s not normal— his breathing. The wrappings will only do so much while the pain persists. But by morning, the scar will be there, as if it had always been there. You don’t dare ask the details of why.

He’s spoiled you, surely. A comfortable life in his hands has made you soft. And you know this to be true, otherwise this attempt at your life would be nothing but another occurrence you hardly bat an eye to.

The gentleness he grants you unravels you faster.

No matter how close Blade is, you’re always alone. Even so, you choose to stay within his shadow. It’s warm— always warm.

And you crave him. Crave him in ways you should not entertain.

You don’t sleep much that night. The attempts on your life are few in recent years, but even more rare is successful bloodshed. The more dire incidents leave your nerves fried, a heavy pounding in your chest as adrenaline leaves your body tense and sleepless. Even with Blade’s watchful gaze keeping you safe, knowing he’s been injured by your carelessness only leaves you waking with a strangled gasp from guilt-ridden nightmares every hour.

The room is foreign as you try to adjust your sight to the dark bathed in a sliver of moonlight from a crack in the hotel room’s curtains.

This bed is not yours, this room is not yours. It’s not home, and this isn’t normal. The target is hot on your back— always under someone’s watchful eye. Never able to take a full breath without gasping and clawing at the anxiety closing its hands around your throat.

Your throat feels tight the more you think. In the dark, faces seem to morph into the details on the ceiling— mocking and shifting. All you can do is think in circles, worry your lips raw.

When you look over, you can just barely make out Blade’s dark figure laid on the sofa across from you. The bandages wrapped on his torso are salt in the wound as the guilt claws at your throat once more. Tears sting your eyes as the stress of it all finally reaches a breaking point.

The clock reads midnight as you tiptoe to the bathroom.

The bathwater is just short of scalding when you step in. The feeling doesn’t even phase you, a welcome sensation as the steam surrounds you. Its temperature is a welcoming hug melting your stresses away little by little as you work your fingers into your tense shoulders. A sniffle here and there, shaky breaths accompanied by the sweet melodies of tears breaking the water’s surface.

For a while, you sit idly, watching water from the leaky faucet drip. With each drop, the echoing sound clears your mind and centers you.

Deep breath, hold it. Exhale. Repeat.

The door to the bathroom clicks open, heavy footsteps trailing in.

“I already knew you were awake, but I wish you would rest,” you mutter into your knees as you shrink into yourself.

He sits at the edge of the tub. Formality is left at the door, for your sake. You have nothing to hide from him, anyway. The flesh is nothing to hide, and you’re more ashamed to let his eyes gaze upon the want in your soul. Ugly and wretched.

“You care for me,” is all Blade says in the quiet echo of the bathroom. “Don’t.”

The silence that follows seeps into the water that is no longer warm. Your body sinks lower into the tub until your nose is just above the water. Heat sears the tips of your ears.

The pounding of your heart is deafening, louder still as his presence engulfs your senses.

You feel foolish and naive and your bones are tired of being within your flesh. Bound to carry a fool like you through every mistake.

The sound of water draining doesn’t faze you. He’s decided this is less healing than you wallowing in self-pity. It won’t do you any good. Believing him is easier when you’d rather not think.

You sit up and keep your gaze glued to the surface of the water. Not unable to meet his gaze— refusing to— as his words weigh heavy on your heart.

You would rather he squeeze your heart— drink it dry of the lifeblood that keeps it pumping. Maybe this isn’t love. Or isn’t what you need.

But you will yourself to not care. Have to.

Blade taps your shoulder, urging you to stand before you catch a cold the longer you stay in the lukewarm water. He sighs quietly when you shake your head petulantly.

You finally speak— a quiet, frail thing as your voice trembles ever so slightly. “You’re wrong. It’s more.”

The water sloshes and spills over the sides as you turn your body around. Your eyes meet full, crimson moons, and your heart remains strangely steady. Uncertainty claws at your nerves until they fray like ribbons.

The draining water weighs in the forefront of your mind like an hourglass waiting for your next move. And with each second his eyes crumble your resolve, seeing through you— peering into the soul of a frail little thing like you. He waits patiently for your next gamble.

You lean up, lips pressing against his. A forlorn warmth.

Not pushed away, not stopped. Blade indulges you. Always does.

A wordless answer.

“You don’t like it, but I love you,” you mutter against his lips when you pull away. “That won’t change easily.”

“I never said I don’t like it.”

You can’t meet his eyes when your fingers silently trace the bandage wrappings around his bare torso.

“It eats me alive to see you get hurt. I know it’s your job, but… I can still be a fool in love. Can’t I?”

When you chase his lips again, your body shivers. It’s difficult to tell if that comes as a result from the harsh, cold porcelain of the empty tub or his teeth sinking into your lip.

The water is running again when Blade pushes you away, your eyes unfocused and glassy. He makes your heart ache. You have yet to decide if it’s in a good way or a bad way.

“Is it pity?” you ask quietly. “The reason you kissed back?” There’s distress and hurt in your voice as Blade falls into routine, moving you about like a doll to finish what you inevitably will not.

No response. For once, you can’t read him.

Blade works silently as he runs hot water over your body with that delicate gentleness that has your heart yearning and longing for him to be forced into what you need. You swallow the greed— the selfishness— and tear out the vitals of that ugly beast before you go mad if he leaves.

Your back is to him as he uses the shower head to get the last remaining suds out of your hair. It pulls your focus for a moment, the feeling pleasant and distracting. Methods he already knows to soothe your tumultuous mind.

The water runs and he turns you around. The bandages around his torso are damp by now, your lingering gaze focusing on them as he finishes rinsing you in silence. The myriad of scars adorning his arms and torso bring a heavy feeling to your chest. You will the vile feeling away and focus on his fingers gently lathering up your hair. Keeping you sat makes the task more difficult— you know this. But the attention makes your heart lighter all the same.

Selfish. The thought brands itself on your back like a hot iron.

The water runs and runs along your thigh with a light pressure as he abandons the shower head and tilts your face up to finally look at him. His gaze is intense— worried in the way he searches your crestfallen expression. You’re sure you look pathetic like this, disappointment on your face.

But he kisses you.

Blade leans down and kisses you. Of his own volition, now, and it's soft and warm. So warm it singes the edges of the isolation that consumes you. And for a moment, salvation is what you feel.

“You’re stubborn,” he says, his breath warm as it fans your face. “I enjoy it. That’s my answer.”

You can’t help the pout on your lips. It pulls a hum of amusement from him.

“Enjoying the demise of my heart. You’re cruel.”

Your words have no bite. A ghost of a smile graces his lips and it brings a rush of emotion to your already starving heart.

Because you don’t know it, but he craves you. Fondly but desperately.

Where your family has thrown you to the side, he will hold you close. A greed of his own he has to battle— keep focused so it won’t consume him. So he won’t devour you whole.

A shiver runs through your body as he coaxes you back into the tub, and you think for a moment he’s back to keeping you at an arm’s length again. The cold of the porcelain is harsh on your back. You retain some shame, at least, and you go to cover your chest. It’s the feeling of being a lamb before the slaughter, pristine and loved.

“Sit still,” Blade commands, voice smooth and an octave lower as his arm pushes one of your legs apart to prop on the edge of the tub.

It's a welcome initiative that makes your face warm with a sudden meekness. You’re exposed and surely getting slick by the second with arousal dripping down your inner thigh. Spread and completely bare.

Your chest rises and falls at a quickening pace and you whimper in anticipation. Blade watches you almost curiously, as if he’s never heard these pathetic little sounds from your lips. There’s little that hasn’t been shared between you two with his intimate work as your bodyguard. His presence has been by your side nearly twenty four hours a day every day for the past few years. Still, this is a new low he is taking on with you.

Indulging you. Like he always does.

This is an inevitable shift in your relationship— one that has long since strayed from a purely professional stance. It never suited you both, at least that’s what you like to think.

His gaze like blood is trained onto your expression— every shift, every change, every wince. He wants to see them all, sear them into his memory like tomorrow isn’t promised.

Your body jolts and an obscene moan you can't manage to hold back bubbles up your throat as he holds the shower head just over your slick cunt. The water runs with a constant pressure that feels odd and overwhelmingly good. But your moans are much too loud, much too desperate. With a click, the flow changes and he rips a sharp gasp out of you as he aims the water at your throbbing clit.

Your body is thrashing, squirming against the porcelain but you don’t have it in you to tell him to stop. You don’t want him to stop. But this feeling is not him, and you want to be selfish and have him take all that remains. To have him take and take and fill and put you back together after he breaks you into irreplaceable pieces.

The squeeze of his hand on the tender flesh of your plush thigh is enough to have you panting and writhing. The feeling is isolated, the mere touch hot on your skin— scalding, even. His large hand sinks easily into the soft skin there, and you wish his touch alone would leave marks in his wake. To remind you that he’s still here, and you’ll both be alright.

The coiling feeling builds and builds, your walls clenching around nothing as your clit is assaulted by the constant stream of pressure. A whimper of frustration escapes your lips as your hips try to buck up to chase the feeling— begging for relief. He doesn’t spare you from cruelty, not when your expressions are a wonder to behold. You can’t even scream as an orgasm rips through you so suddenly, mouth agape as you twist and arch under his watchful gaze.

An expression twisted and contorted by bliss— Blade drinks up all your sounds and the sight of you undone. You squirm against his hold on your thigh as the feeling starts to toe into overstimulation. It’s too much of a good thing and you don’t know whether to beg him to stop or keep chasing the feeling of the coil tightly winding again.

The tears that adorn your lashes blur your peripheral, but you’re sure you see a wolfish grin on Blade’s expression.

Just short of coming undone again, he denies you a second completion. The stream of water slowly drips to a stop and you lay there catching your breath. Frustration sits in the pit of your belly as exhaustion finally settles on your limbs, eyelids heavy. For a moment you feel his lips on your temple— a brief, chaste gesture.

It’s silent as you get ready to sleep once more. By now it’s almost two in the morning, your tired body protesting the hour. But the air is no longer suffocating, and a lightness remains in your heart once more. The maw of the beast still looms over you but for now, the beating of two hearts quells your worries until morning.

His steps halt as you pull him along toward the bed.

“Sleep here,” you beg quietly. “It’ll be better for your wounds.”

Blade closes his eyes, forcing himself to disregard the want in your eyes. When you tug gently again he gives in, allowing you to do as you please. Just like always.

He cannot pleasure you how he wants, not tonight. You wouldn’t allow it with his wounds. All the same he relents when you urge him to sleep in a proper bed— to lay with you.

In the stillness of the dark, his hand searches for yours. You wonder for a moment if his fear of losing you rivals your own. For the sake of your heart, you’ll have to assume that much.

He fits easily into the crook of your neck and allows his lips to press tenderly where your shoulder meets your neck. The flesh dissolves under his tongue. You are left bare, a soul so desperately longing to be unsealed and seen and filled.

And he sees you. Blade fills you— with yearning and a wretched possessiveness unbecoming of you. But he fills you, nonetheless.

[hoshifighting]

joshua as a sugar baby!

— WARNINGS: sugar mommy x sugar baby relationship, smut, oral (f. receiving), semi-public sex, edging, jealous sugar mommy, sweet and gentle babyboy joshua. — (Seventeen as Sugar Baby's Series)

joshua was unlike any sugar baby you’d had before—sweet, calm, and so damn perfect it almost pissed you off. but you couldn’t help it; you loved dressing him up like your little doll, choosing the finest clothes and watching as he wore them with that quiet confidence that drove you feverish. he never complained, not even once, and why would he? his only job was to keep you company, hit the gym, and look good doing it.

sometimes, when you were swamped with work, you’d pull up the security feed on your computer, pretending to check the cameras like any responsible ceo would. but really, your eyes were glued to joshua, watching as he swam leisurely in the pool, his lithe body cutting through the water with such grace. or the way he’d walk into his bedroom, only to find another bouquet of flowers on the bed, a note from you tucked inside. the way his face would light up, that shy smile making your heart squeeze—it was all the balance you needed from the chaos of your world.

at events, he was the perfect accessory, drawing the eyes of every woman in the room. “you’re so lucky,” they’d gush, eyes flicking from you to him. “he’s gorgeous and so well-mannered.”

your grip would tighten on his hand, jaw clenching as you tried to keep your composure. “i know,” you’d say, voice a little too tight, because the truth was, you hated how much you cared. how much you didn’t want to share him, even in the slightest.

joshua, the sweet thing, would just lower his head, a little smile playing on his lips. he knew exactly what he was doing, and he fucking loved it. seeing you get jealous was a rare treat for him, and he savored every second of it, loving how it made you just a bit more possessive, a bit more vulnerable around him.

despite all that, it took time before things got physical. joshua wasn’t in a rush—he genuinely loved just being around you, soaking up your presence. but the day you finally asked, the moment you let him know you wanted more, he didn’t hesitate.

he didn’t waste any time actually, pulling you close, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was tender at first, testing, but quickly deepened when he felt you respond just as eagerly.

and that’s when you discovered something surprising about joshua—underneath that sweet, innocent exterior was a man who had a filthy, nasty side that he kept hidden away, just waiting for the right moment to show you.

he loved it when you took control, especially when you’d tie him down, your hands light-touching his nipples, as you rode him, the sound of skin against skin echoing in the room. but what really got him going, what made him absolutely lose it, was when you whispered the filthiest things in his ear, telling him exactly what you were going to do to him, how you were going to make him beg.

“you like that, baby?” you’d purr, your breath hot against his neck as you felt him shudder beneath you. “you like it when i take what’s mine?”

and he’d nod, breathless and desperate, his voice coming out in broken whimpers as you had your way with him. “yes, fuck, yes…”

but it wasn’t just dominance. joshua had a thing for risk, too. he loved it when you pushed him to the edge, doing things that felt almost wrong, like the way he’d go down on you in the back of your car, licking and sucking at you like a man starved, even as you told him to stop, that someone might see. but that only made him go harder, the thrill of getting caught making him harder than ever.

then there was the time you discovered how much he loved to be edged. you’d keep him right there, right on the brink of release, your wet hand wrapped around his cock as he begged you, pleaded with you to let him cum. but you wouldn’t, not until he was practically crying, his body trembling with need.

and when you finally let him have it, when you finally let him release, the way he’d moan, the way he’d cling to you like you were his lifeline, it was like nothing you’d ever experienced before, joshua was the prettiest baby boy, following your orders even though he couldn’t hold it anymore.

“fuck, y/n-ie,” he’d gasp, his voice ragged, his body still shaking as he came down from the high. “you’re going to ruin me.”

and you knew he meant it. because as sweet and calm as joshua was, as much as he tried to play the perfect sugar baby, you knew that underneath it all, he was just as addicted to you as you were to him.

[sparkly-sediment]

Tf2 Mercs Period flow headcanons

Free will strikes again 😈😈

Heavy

The Red terror

Very heavy flow that last 6-7 days. The longest she’s had is 9 days and it took bear meat to recover

The blood is usually dark brown and overall a bit of a delayed flow

Calls it her menstrual cycle only. Heavy isn’t big on midol or pain relief (Russian grit af)

Will always use a warm water bottle tho

Only used scraps of fabric until her 20s. Heavy doesn’t like pads because they feel like diapers and she doesn’t fuck with tampons until she has sex for the first time so she won’t “loose her virginity to stick”

We need more sex education

Ultra tampons for business, free bleed in the period draws for leisure

Sniper

Bush woman

Some hardcore feminist shit. Walk into the woods and menstruate on a stick indigo girls concert transparent

(if you get that i love you)

Sniper normally just free bleeds or like dries out her vagina during bathroom breaks. She smokes weed for cramps and gets bad period diarrhea

Very light, irregular periods. Completely skips some months due to stress and malnutrition (and she looses her appetite on her period!!(

Severe period exhaustion 😮‍💨

Flow is bright red or faint. Might be some blood on the briefs on the first/second morning but then not much happening outside of clots.

Would have fertility issues I feel

Sniper gets anemic on her period and resists taking the supplements Medic recommends. Finally he fights her into taking them and, shocker! She’s not passing out when she stands

Has tasted her period blood clots. Canon I fear

Says on the rag

Demo

MENACE

Demo has a moderate flow but pretty gnarly cramps. The sharp, pulsing kind. Hurts like a bitch!!

Flushes tampons and could give two fucks

She drinks more on her period and has wicked period shits. Possibly the worst asshole cramps in the group, and don’t even get me started on sore nipples

Thick dark red blood. Not hard blood clots but large bloody goops and liquid. Has to shower more often on her period 😔

Super and super plus tampons and the hospital grade pads. Completely unnecessary but Demo gets the biggest most crinkly padding pads of all time!!! Why!!!???!!!

PCOS queen. Thicker body hair, wild anger at times, and cysts!!! When one bursts she finally goes to Medic who immediately gives morphine and some weird blue sludge

Pain was gone but she did wake up with a third kidney

Scout

Type of bitch to get pregnant while pregnant

What a nightmare! PMS like a mother fucker! Scout becomes a snappy little bitch on her period. Terrorizes the base and just crashes out for no reason

If you eat her food so help you God

Really strong cravings and really intense ovulation. Yk how some women really go into heat when they ovulate? Like REALLY lock in? That’s Scout

Fertile and loves chocolate but aggressive

BAWLS ON HER PERIOD and period breakouts

Lighter/moderate flow. More than Sniper but less than Demo

Running really helps her cramps but they usually go to about 5/10 at worst

Her boobs always hurt worse than anything else and she’ll wear a sports bra instead of wrapping them for work

regular tampons and refuses go wear a pad

Medic

I will be using he/him pronouns because period!medic isn’t a gender bend. Medic wanted to feel even closer to his baboons and so he installed the necessary organs to build and birth them

Unwanted and unforeseen side effect 😔

Sturdy but average flow and a very consistent cycle. Bright red with brown spotting towards the end. He keeps a calendar and tracks ovulation

He would have period sex. No question. And, in a sick and wicked manner, would blow them after 😋

horrible to imagine. Anyway, Medic has rougher periods with heavy hormone fluctuations. Intense mood swings, fatigue, and some month deals with painful ovarian cysts

His periods don’t normally have too bad cramps!! He’s just sore in the southern skies and has some lightning sharp stabbing pains in his asshole

Medicates fully and all the way except in the beginning when he monitored the function more closely

Light period acne heavy metalic scent. Feels very tender and hungry

Soldier

Free bleeds and gets blood everywhere

Heavy flow and pretty intense cramps. And, rage. Period rage. Heightened by her pain and immense discomfort and all of her sheets have stains

Dark brown blood and irregular. Can bleed for days and has had 11-12 day periods that completely drain her

Her cramps will leave her bed ridden. If she has to go to battle, there will be NO indication of her pain. She might even be worse to over compensate. But Soldier will run a little slower and land from rocket jumps much more gently

Cries in the locker room and respawn when alone 😭😭😭😭 my shayla

Unless she’s gassed up for battle Soldier is much quieter on his period and sluggish

Eats so much omg decimates that kitchen. The team has to have a meeting because they’ve gone to the store three days in a row, and this is the forth morning everything is gobbled down in the night by a certain greedy little rat

Every time she starts her period she marches into the medbay to LOUDLY announce it. This is the only time she ever mentions the topic of menstruation in relation to herself

Will say fucked up shit tho. Tells Scout blood attracts bears and viciously growls after finding Scout’s tampons

Spy

Eats steak almost nightly when on her period

She refuses to discuss such things with the team and calls it tasteless conversation

INTERNALIZED MISOGYNY and does everything she can to hide her period. Will use kitty perfume to avoid blood smell, tampons only and she hides the wrappers before throwing them out

Heavier flow with low pain. She’ll feel the most discomfort in the cervix area but she doesn’t experience much cramping

Red/brown mix and very spotting days 1-3. Day 3/4-5 is heavy flow and then day six is usually the end

Midol in a Tylenol bottle 😭

She becomes a wicked bitch. Horrifically snappy and will bite your head off. Some period shits. Boobs hurt the week before

Engineer

Her periods are dandy.

Yk how people say periods last 3-5 days? And you’re like, who the fuck is having three day periods?

It’s this gal

Engineer has some mild cramping but it lasts ALL day. From the first flutter of her eyes to the final rest, her uterus is aching

Tight period cramps and a lighter flow. She wears regular and lite tampons for two days and then is good

Bright red and thin blood. Never has big clots and rarely has goopy blood

Her discharge is tinted pink or brown for about a week though so it does balance out

She will smell really strongly of blood like the ripe period embarrassing smell

Working in the workshop when she catches a whiff of the 🩸🐱 but she likes feeling primal and will work into the dank night

Engineer eats all chocolate in the based and will probably eat every cookie too

Period rage that rivals Soldier’s

Pyro

Free bleeds and doesn’t practice good hygiene. She won’t change her clothes- including underwear- any differently despite having blood all up in it

Pyro doesn’t have much liquid blood, but a lot of clotting and clumps of tissue

Because of this and a lack of good hygiene she has a worse smell, and it is noticeable to others. Pyro always smells burnt though so it isn’t exactly traceable

Heavier flow, WOULD use super plus tampons

Pyro has worn pads in the past but she dislikes the diaper feel and she never likes the sensory experience of period products

She’s much sleepier on her period and will curl up to nap. If not in her bed then wherever

[vinegarss]

47news interview with Tamifull

Earlier this month Tamifull, the author of Tsukiatte agetemo ii kana? AKA How Do We Relationship?, did an interview with 47news. I've translated the full text below:

Out of the innumerable manga published every year, there are always a few titles that one simply can't afford to miss. Tamifull-sensei's How Do We Relationship? (Shogakukan) is one of these. It's a story of young love and heartbreak, centering on college students Inuzuka Miwa and Sawatari Saeko. Though fiction, it has a powerful sense of reality that leaves one feeling as if the real Miwa and Saeko might just be out there somewhere right now. If Agasawa Tea's Ramparts of Ice (Shueisha) is the pinnacle of high school romance, then How Do We Relationship? is the pinnacle of college romance. With the help of supervising editor Watanabe Saori-san, we were able to secure an interview with Tamifull-sensei to discuss the story--now on its 12th volume, and at the height of its climax.

The story so far:

Soon after starting college, mild-mannered beauty Inuzuka Miwa joins the light music club and finds herself the center of attention from the boys at the welcoming party. Miwa, who "only likes girls", is rescued from the situation by the energetic Saeko. Saeko, who "prefers women (to men)", buoyed by liquid courage, asks Miwa out on the spot and the two begin dating. But the two are clumsy and inexperienced with love, and fail to be fully honest with each other. By the end of the year, their romance has ended in disaster. After maintaining a sex-only relationship for some time they return to being friends and even move on to new partners... Finally, as their respective relationships have both ended, the two look at each other anew, not as lovers, but as exes, and as absolute allies.

47: How Do We Relationship? has a very unusual structure. Shoujo manga tend to portray a dramatic path to the start of the relationship, but Miwa and Saeko begin dating at the very start of volume 1 and break up in volume 4. As we're now on volume 12, they've actually been exes longer than they were together.

Tamifull: Well, it has stretched a little longer than I expected (laughs), but the story is proceeding as planned from the start. I think rather than starting decisively with some sort of "All right, I'm falling in love now!" moment, real love tends to build up out of small things over time. I didn't want the relationships in How Do We Relationship? to start in this exaggerated, romance story kind of way.

47: And that helps with its sense of reality.

Tamifull: I don't believe dating and breaking up are things that we need to think about in such dramatic terms. It's easy to feel like every relationship has to be perfect, or that you need to have some sort of fated encounter, or that breaking up is a bad thing, something hopeless. Why shouldn't there be manga that throws away those stereotypes? Life is so much longer than a single relationship. It keeps going after you start dating someone, or break up with them. I think that's a message that I've consistently tried to tell with this manga.

47: Can you tell us how it got to be serialized?

Tamifull: It started out as a oneshot I did for Comitia (a doujin festival and marketplace in Tokyo) in 2017. Up until then, I had mainly been drawing yuri--manga about relationships between girls. And I wanted to tell a little bit of a different story at that event. Doujinshi are generally about 20 pages, so usually you introduce the main couple, have them confess, and wrap it up right around there. So I thought, what if they're already in a relationship and we watch them break up? I was basically thinking, "why not draw what I want to read!?"

Watanabe: Ashima Yuki-san, one of the first freelance editors, reached out to Tamifull-san then.

47: At the time, yuri was considered a pretty small market. It felt like unless you got into one of the specialized publications you'd have a very hard time, right?

Tamifull: That's true. There are a lot more varied works coming out now. At the time most of these stories were actually aimed at men, so the relationships would stay platonic, or at most they might kiss. I knew stories like that were easier to market and less likely to ruffle feathers, but I found myself thinking, "If we all settle for that, we'll never get to see what happens next! If no one else is drawing it, why shouldn't I?"

47: What did Ashima-san say to you?

Tamifull: She told me, "I've been wanting to read a story where the characters and relationship feel free like this". I do remember thinking it might be more marketable without the eroticism when I was developing it for serialization (laughs). But I ended up just being like, well, let's see what happens!

47: "Realistic" LGBTQ romance stories tend to end up falling into a handful of patterns. Whether it's manga or movies, you see a lot of stories that feel like "the tragedy of same-sex love", or that seem intended to make you feel sorry for the characters. Like the audience is meant to walk away thinking, "How thought-provoking! I really learned something". But How Do We Relationship? is pretty different, isn't it?

Tamifull: Rather than being "yuri" or being viewed as an "LGBTQ story", I want people to get into the story just because they see it and go "Hey, there's girls dating in here!". Sexual minorities aren't here to be instructional materials for anyone. LGBTQ people live in the same world as everyone else. I want the characters to seem like people you might meet anywhere, and to have relationships you might see anywhere. I want the fact that the relationship isn't heterosexual to just be a detail. That's why Watanabe-san and I decided not to advertise How Do We Relationship? specifically as a yuri manga.

47: Achieving that sense of reality must take a lot of care. I imagine you have to be careful to avoid the set phrases and compositions that readers see all the time in romance manga.

Tamifull: That's true. For example, in the scene where Saeko opens up to Mikkun, their male friend, about her dating Miwa, she asks him if he finds the two of them dating "gross, or wrong, or unnatural", and Mikkun, while looking away, asks in return, "What? Do I have to feel that way about you?". The orthodox move would be to have the handsome guy character looking straight out of the page, smoothly delivering some cool line. But in real life we don't have convenient handsome guys just lying around, and you're not usually looking people straight in the eye. It's not that staged. I think the casual nature of the lines, and the casual nature of the situation, actually make it all the more resonant. I want to keep that natural feeling to the story, and I go out of my way to avoid making it feel "romantic". I think my ideal is for it to feel like a movie.

47: A movie?

Tamifull: That's right. I think one of the strengths of film is the ability to show the drama of everyday life. I always include backgrounds in my panels to try to get closer to that feeling. For instance, in a scene in volume 12, Saeko is on a boat at night looking out over the water with her girlfriend, Yuria. They're talking about breaking up. It's a very romantic setting, but the painful nature of their conversation blots out everything except for the blackness of the water. I want readers to feel like they're there experiencing it alongside the characters.

47: I see. The city you see at night while breaking up with someone certainly does feel different...

Watanabe: And Tamifull-sensei's art has really helped deliver that sense of reality to readers. There are no wasted panels: from the camera placement to how the viewer's eye is led, even the placement of the dialogue, everything serves to guide the reader to what she's showing. Due to my job I read a lot of manga, but there are very few manga artists as skilled as her.

47: Personally, as a reader, it's that sense of reality that has me praying for Saeko and Miwa to end up happy, so next I'd like to ask a little about about how you learned to imbue your writing with such reality, and what techniques you use.

Tamifull: I'll do my best (laughs).

47: First, the depth and internality of your characters. For instance, after breaking up with Saeko, Miwa dates the younger Tamaki. Tamaki is reserved and very low-energy. She's clearly at a loss with the more sexually-motivated Miwa, but nonetheless does her best to reciprocate in her own way. She's straightforward and can be a little childish, but has an intellectual side to her, as well. Accurately portraying such a complex, difficult character must necessitate having an incredibly keen eye for people. How did you learn to understand other people so well?

Tamifull: I think it was mostly my experience in school. In primary and middle school I was low on the pecking order, so I became very sensitive to other people's hostility.

47: Ah, the pecking order... That does happen, doesn't it.

Tamifull: Yes. I'd be in a group of maybe 5 or 6 friends in a class and then once every few months I'd get the silent treatment and end up being ostracized from the group, in this sort of rotation. I'd go through 2 or 3 groups and it would always happen. I think all the time I spent thinking about how to avoid being targeted like that played a big part.

47: Planning out the battle to make it out alive, so to speak.

Tamifull: I think that really helped cultivate my eye (laughs). Like, this girl's the ringleader, and these ones are joining in because they don't want to become the target themselves, but this other girl is actually nice so even when they're ganging up on me she won't join in.

47: I see. Even while you were being mistreated, you were trying to understand things from their perspective. Certainly How Do We Relationship? doesn't have any one character that you would really call a villain.

Tamifull: That's right. Take Kan, who tells Miwa "I hate you" in volume 2, or Tamaki's friend Nagi who calls her "gross" in volume 8. I think it would be too convenient if nobody was ever mean or unpleasant, so it's important to have such characters. But I also try to portray them as having their own reasons. It's not like everyone will be good to each other all the time, but for each person, there's a community out there somewhere that will accept them as themselves. I'm always including that idea, that wish, almost, as I write the various members of the music club.

47: The story has this warmth to it you can really feel, and I think that idea has a lot to do with it. That said, it sounds like you weren't always successful at avoiding bullying. That must have been difficult.

Tamifull: I spent a lot of time wrapped in my futon wondering, why do they treat me like that? As the days went by I'd end up sublimating my anger and frustration by telling myself, "They have their own problems so there's nothing I can do about it." Like, this girl might have a lot of stress at home, about her grades or other things, so she just feels too much pressure and gets pushed into bullying, or things like that. I really got in the habit of thinking about things from their perspective.

47: You are an incredibly kind person. I do think the eye you cultivated that way serves you well in writing characters. For example, in volume 3, we meet Miwa's first crush, Shiho. At home, we see Shiho being horribly mistreated by her parents, who only care for her more academically-minded younger sister, Maho. One day Maho snaps at her, saying "Don't talk back to me, moron! You know how much I have to carry thanks to your stupidity!?". But Shiho just accepts it, and keeps her unhappiness to herself. That's in volume 11, that we finally find out how Maho, who's caused Shiho so much pain, has been feeling.

Tamifull: Maho also feels a lot of pressure from their parents, and she's desperate not to fail. She's under a lot of stress from that. When they were younger, Shiho and Maho were actually very close--Maho loved her older sister--but as grades and examinations started to get involved that connection became twisted... I wasn't able to show all of this in the story, but I always think through these details before drawing.

47: That sort of thing does happen between siblings, doesn't it... Just remembering is a little painful.

Tamifull: But, as much as I analyze people like this, it's very difficult to put into words.

47: In what way?

Tamifull: If you say "Well, this person has this kind of background, so that's why they do these things" then everyone will be like, "And what do you know about them?". You'll end up hurting feelings. So I can't say it about real people, but with How Do We Relationship? I'm the author so I can draw whatever I want. When I hear readers talk about the "realism" I'm always like, "Really? You mean I actually did it?". I secretly get a little happy about it (laughs).

47: Did you always want to become a mangaka, growing up?

Tamifull: I did always like drawing. But when I was pretty young I read one of those "So you want to draw manga?" kind of books and I got very intimidated by all the different erasers and tones and things, and I sort of gave up (laughs). It wasn't until I'd completely retired from extracurriculars in college that I realized I didn't have enough to do and started drawing manga.

47: And then you became a mangaka as soon as you graduated?

Tamifull: Yes, that's right.

47: That's quite something. Not many people manage to do that, right?

Tamifull: The reason I started attending Comitia was because in college I finally learned that editors would be there. Up until then I was working with my childhood knowledge--I thought I had to submit my work to a company and then become an assistant before I could become an author myself. When I found out I was like, "Doujinshi will get me fans and even expose me to editors? What could be better!?". I had my heart set on it.

47: (laughs). What kinds of things were you inspired by when you were a child?

Tamifull: All the way through school I was into stuff that was a little different from whatever was in fashion. I liked watching slightly older anime on Kids' Station, for instance. Like, look at me! I'm not into the same stuff as everybody else! Aren't I cool? (laughs).

47: (laughs).

Tamifull: When everyone else was into Cardcaptor Sakura, I was watching Takahashi Rumiko-sensei's Ranma 1/2 and Maison Ikkoku. I remember when I read one of Ito Junji-sensei's works at a relative's house it left a big impression on me. When I was in college I bought the collector's edition of Tomie at Village Vanguard.

47: You grew up into a bit of an alt college student.

Tamifull: In college, going to Village Vanguard and fishing for manga nobody else had became something of a passion for me.

47: What about Takahashi Rumiko-sensei's work did you like in particular?

Tamifull: I especially liked the way she drew girls. In the early 2000s, when I was in primary school, it was very in fashion for girls to be drawn very slender and light, with delicate limbs.

47: Slenderness was certainly emphasized a lot back then, yes.

Tamifull: I preferred how Rumiko-sensei drew them--a little squishy. As far as the story goes, I loved the ending of Maison Ikkoku, how it portrays the characters moving forward in life. I read it over and over. I think that passion for people comes through a little in How Do We Relationship?.

47: In the afterword of volume 3, you mentioned that from middle school until about halfway through college you lost interest in manga, and were more into drama and music.

Tamifull: That's true. Sometimes I'd draw a buff Pikachu or something on the blackboard to try to get a laugh out of people, but that was about it.

47: A buff Pikachu? (laughs). I wish I could see it.

Tamifull: At co-ed schools I think girls mostly end up ranked by looks, but I went to an all-girls high school, so... It was really about who was the funniest.

47: So art was a way of giving yourself a gimmick.

Tamifull: That's right. That continued into college, so I always had the position of somebody who's just a little bit good at drawing. In college everyone was nice, though.

47: In that same afterword you mentioned that during the time you weren't drawing manga, you really enjoyed making things together with a group.

Tamifull: In high school I was in the school band, and we'd all put on plays together at school festivals. I joined the light music club in college. I did percussion in high school so I mostly played drums, or did vocals.

47: Oooh. What kinds of things did you play in the light music club?

Tamifull: Just normal rock. Popular stuff, like Go! Go! 7188.

47: I have an impression of you as being a little bit countercultural, so rock seems perfect for you (laughs).

Tamifull: In college I was also on the student festival committee, so I was doing double duty a little bit. And as much as I enjoyed making things with other people, I started to feel this hole open up, like inside I'd be thinking "I could do this so much better...". Then I started looking into manga again on a whim and realized everything had gone digital. You don't need to hire a bunch of assistants, and you can do tones with the press of a button. It was like this new environment where I could try my hand at manga by myself was prepared just in time as I came of age. I didn't have to hold myself back for anyone, and could do everything just how I wanted. That's why I've always worked alone.

47: What!? You don't have any assistants even now?

Tamifull: I don't.

47: Watanabe-san, is that normal?

Watanabe: It's extremely precious to us. She's really something, isn't she? I don't know how she puts out so much in just two weeks.

Tamifull: I want every angle and composition just so. I can't really express it well, so when I think about trying to explain it to someone else, I just feel like it would end up taking even more time... But then sometimes I'll be working from my storyboards and I'll be like, "Why did I make myself draw it like this!?" and end up suffering a little (laughs).

47: It's certainly a work that cuts no corners. The dialogue is always so well written and moving--do you start by writing the characters' lines?

Tamifull: Yes, I do. I'll write them all out at once, then adapt them to the storyboards as I go. I think all the time I spent agonizing in my futon when I was younger like "I should've said this..." or "And then they'd say that..." might also help here.

47: You always include afterword comics and omake in the tankoubon releases, so I get a sense that you're quite particular about manga books.

Tamifull: I love manga that includes a lot of little extras. And I want readers to enjoy How Do We Relationship? as much as possible, so I always go all out drawing them.

47: Your first announced works were around 2012, and in 2014 you made your commercial debut with Don't Call me a Goddess! in Bungeisha's 4-koma magazine Manga Time. The main character, Saotome-san, is a bit of a tryhard, and as much as that wins her respect from her peers, it also tends to alienate them. Into her life barrels the far less inhibited Ryou. After that, you had My Little Sister and the Sex Doll (Shueisha) serialized in Tonari no Young Jump, about an innocent and naive high school girl and a talking sex doll. Both manga were comedies.

Tamifull: How Do We Relationship? was a little bit of a break in genre, yes (laughs). My Little Sister and the Sex Doll also started as something I made as a change of pace for Comitia (laughs).

47: It's a very rhythmical work--the talking sex doll's lines are incredibly well crafted.

Tamifull: The editors at Young Jump really liked it. It was a little more crude than what I usually write, so I did have some doubts... but they were very kind in offering me the serialization. I had to exercise my vocabulary to the fullest.

47: As much as it made me laugh, I could also somehow feel your desire to break taboos coming through.

Tamifull: That's true. I was trying to make fun of dirty comics, while making a dirty comic (laughs). Even when there would be the setup for some sort of fanservice scene, with something sexual happening to the girl, I would always interrupt it with a joke and turn it into something decidedly not fanservice.

47: On the other hand, something about the relationship between Saotome-san and Ryou in Don't Call Me a Goddess! feels like it connects to Miwa and Saeko. Are you particularly fond of that sort of relationship?

Tamifull: Honestly, that was... completely unintentional. I think, when it comes to protagonists, I do like a character who is quiet, but unexpectedly stubborn... When I think about my time in school, I had a lot of experiences where there would be another girl, and she'd have this sense of separation, like a bit of a boundary around herself, but when I approached her she'd turn out to actually be really interesting. And I'd have this feeling of "Everyone else doesn't even know how cool she is!? I need to let everyone know!". I think that feeling, almost like wanting to become a producer for girls like that, has led me to write my protagonists that way.

47: You really love girls.

Tamifull: I may have spent long years in fierce battle with them at school, but when I translate it to manga they become strangely appealing. Even when they're a pain, their being a pain is good in of itself (laughs). It's true that characters who aren't straightforward can make a story more interesting, but I also think that's just how people are--you can't sum anyone up in a few words. Don't you agree?

47: Your manga, including How Do We Relationship?, really don't tend to have characters that you can sum up as "the cool one" or "the tsundere" or anything like that.

Tamifull: That's right. I don't want them to be symbols.

47: And that's exactly why, in each case--Saeko and Miwa, Miwa and Tamaki, Saeko and Yuria--when they break up, it's so emotionally impactful. You can't just point at one of them and say, "It's her fault."

Tamifull: Right. In reality, lots of people break up all the time without either one really being at fault. It makes me really happy to hear that people read the story as just being how things ended up for them. It's so easy to assume that when a relationship falls apart, it's because someone's in the wrong. I worked very hard to make sure that Tamaki and Yuria would be charming enough characters for readers to like them, and to accept it when I made them break up with Miwa and Saeko. I always look at readers' reactions and think carefully about how to proceed.

47: How Do We Relationship? really feels like you want to closely examine real, "normal" relationships.

Tamifull: I think it's a pity for the socially accepted image of love to be something so narrow. When two women date, and after breaking up return to being friends, I think people have a tendency to look a little askance at them. But why is that? I always find myself thinking, "Are you okay with living like that?". With How Do We Relationship?, I wanted to create a world where Miwa and Saeko and everyone else's desires wouldn't be crushed by those around them.

47: Especially during the first 3 volumes, you often shine the spotlight on the other characters around Miwa and Saeko. Is that also a part of fleshing out that view of the world?

Tamifull: Something like that. I don't want the idea of someone who likes the same sex to be something fantastical. I want to show that sexual minorities are all around--even around you. I want heterosexual readers to also get into the story, and I was very conscious of that early on in the serialization. I think whether you're gay or straight, you can still understand this story. These characters are just like you. That's the message I've tried to send.

47: It would be really wonderful if we could become a society where everyone views each other with respect. What would that take, I wonder?

Tamifull: Delusions, maybe.

47: Delusions? (laughs).

Tamifull: Yes (laughs). This is just my own experience, but when I meet someone and feel off-put by them, I always thoroughly imagine their background. By the time I'm finished whatever anger I felt has faded, and I feel ready to treat them better--maybe even to become close with them. And if you write stories you can come up with great material this way, so it's two birds with one stone (laughs).

[noralia20]

Summary: You and Sirius have always been enemies. The reason ? You didn't know yourself, he always has been mean to you. You're a Gryffindor pureblood, with very proud parents. The marauders like to annoy you and that makes you change into a person you don't even recognise today, not even your best friend, Regulus. One day you get assigned a punition during detention that you have to do with Sirius. Will your relation get better ? Or Worse ?

Words count : 5 k

You had nothing against Sirius at first. You already met the Black family; Walburga surprisingly accepted your presence. You had quite a good relationship with Regulus. But never could you forget the day you met Sirius.

It was summer before entering Hogwarts, his mother still saw him as a future accomplishment, even if his temper was a little bumpy. It was your first time meeting the Black, you were very shy at that age, always hidden behind your mother. You could never forget that dark mansion. You parents stood by your side, waiting for someone to greet them. You remember the sound Walburga's dress did when she walked into the hall, a sickening smile on her face. Your parents knew her back at Hogwarts. "M/N! F/N! How great it is to see you in such good shape! And who might that young lady be?" She exclaimed. You looked up at your mother and she nodded reassuringly. You stepped in front of the lady of the house and bowed respectfully. "I'm Y/N Spencer, Mrs. Black, and it's an honour to make your acquaintance." She raised her brow in surprise. "Such wonderful manners! I see you raised her by the predicaments of your parents".

Your mother nodded; a bit embarrassed. You did not speak, they were all sat in the living room, you met Orion, such a dark silent man. You had your head hung down low, fidgeting with your fingers, listening half of what was being said, waiting for someone to talk to you. It was your first rule in order to not embarrass anyone and pretend to be perfect: Speak when spoken to.

"So how are the boys, Sirius and Regulus. Haven't seen them since they were toddlers." Your mother asked, sipping her tea. Boys? You were never told about boys. Walburga put dow her cup. "Oh, yes. Kreacher, go get the boys so they can greet our guests."

The elf left, and not even seconds later you heard footsteps coming down the stairs. A young boy with hair black like ebony got into the door frame. His skin was like porcelain, like just a wrong movement and he would break into pieces. For his young age, he had such a great posture. His mother smiled proudly, reaching out her hand for him to get closer. "Regulus, come. May I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Spencer and their daughter, Y/N."

He nodded in your direction, a soft smile tug at your lips. "Doesn't he have a brother, of the age of Y/N I believe." Your mother interjected. Walburga nodded, a bit changing her demeanour. "You're right... Regulus where is your brother?" Regulus just shook his head. "Forgive me mother, but I have no idea. I passed by his room before coming down, but he was nowhere to be seen." Walburga sighed, seeming tired. "That boy will be the death of me... Kreacher, go fetch me that boy. The elf in question bowed. "Yes, mistress." And he left.

Walburga turned back to her other son. "Now, Regulus, won't you be a good boy and make Y/N visit the house." The boy timidly smiled and nodded. "Yes mother... Follow me... Y/N" You happily followed his trace. You had a bit of trouble, but you were able to get out a few information from him. He was a year younger than you. A shy boy to say the least, you wanted to know if he had any interest, but he did not seem open to reveal them quite yet. The air between you two was cold and the ambiance of the house did not make it any better. However, all of that changed when you arrived at his room. It was neatly ranged, but what you noticed were drawings and encyclopaedias on his desk. You approached it curiously and found yourself completely gawking at his drawings. There were constellations everywhere and you happened to love astrology. To say that he was surprised was the least because usually people around his age would find this subject annoying. His older brother once called him a space nerd for it. He found especially mesmerised by a certain constellation.

Regulus boy shrugged his cheek sightly red. "You can have it if you want."You raised your brows, clearly surprised. "Really?" "Y-Yes, you're the person I've met with so much interest in astronomy." You smiled widely. "Thanks that's really sweet of you." He mumbled a "you're welcome" and you exited the room. As the minute passed, the boy seemed more comfortable with you. You learned that he's always loved astrology. You laughed together and you started to walk backward, in order to face him. You started to question each other about astrology, laughing when you said the answers in sync.

Regulus starting really playing along. "Now the killing question, what is the constellation I gave you and its most powerful star." You smiled in amusement, it was your favourite constellation, but he didn't have to know that. While saying your answer, you started to turn around, closing your eyes in the process, mocking some savant. "It's the constellation of the great dog, and its most powerful star is Sirius-"

You didn't have time to finish your sentence that your face entered in collision with another body. You stumbled backward almost tripping in the process and looked for the source of the impact. "Someone called my name? You raised your eyes and were met with a boy, quite similar to regulus, only older with longer hair. You shook your head, noticing you were staring. "Oh, apologies, I wasn't looking where I was going." The boy smirked and extended his hand to get you on your feet. "I noticed, I'm Sirius, Sirius Black. I don't think we have met before."

"Oh, I'm Y/N Spencer." He suddenly narrowed his eyes. His face which was bright seconds ago turned so dark in such period of time. Regulus shuffled awkwardly next to you, also aware of Sirius' change of demeanour. "Spencer, you say?" his voice as cold as a blizzard. I shifted, clearly embarrassed. "Y-Yes, is there a problem?" His eyes turned even darker. "No. Just don't ever get in my way."

And he disappeared at the corner, pushing pass your shoulder. You didn't know what happened, and neither did Regulus. Truth to be told, Sirius already met some Spencer, and he didn't enjoy the experience. He met your cousins, some wealthy brat who only cared about themselves. They were cruel, it was Sirius' first presentation in the pureblood world, and though he hated it, he hoped it would go without any problems. But the Spencer cousins thought otherwise, they "accidentally" splashed some juice on his shirt, laughing, making everyone notice his ridiculous state. With a swift movement of their wands, they made his shoes grow two times longer when he was waltzing with a charming young lady. He looked like an absolute clown and promised himself not to ever speak or see a Spencer kid without making them regret being born. The fact that he left you unarmed was a present, but that wouldn't last long. If only you knew how much this young boy would change your path.

Now, back in the more recent time. Since you've arrived at Hogwarts, Sirius has made it a living hell. Especially since the next day after being sorted into Gryffindor, your parents sent you a congratulation letter. A letter being the opposite of the howler Sirius received. The look of pity you wore on your face made his vision go red. Later that day he tripped you when you entered class, making you sprawl in the corridor. You remembered a red hair girl and a black-haired boy helping you gather your things. You guessed it: Lily and Severus. You became inseparable and that made only Sirius anger more: you didn't deserve friends, you already had everything. The years went by, the marauders formed, they would always taunt Severus. The normally shy girl you were, gradually transformed into a brave young woman, standing up for her friends, a true Gryffindor. But to Sirius and his friends, it couldn't be, you had everything a Slytherin had, you could not be in Gryffindor, you had something to hide, something that wasn't right. And so, they took everything, turning you robes into Slytherin colour, taunting you in the corridors, making boys ditch you after they asked you out making you sometimes wait in the rain, ruining every relationship you shared. Even your friends started to slip away, Lily started to catch feelings for Potter, Severus distanced his heart broken self. The only person you had left was Reggie. Since Sirius left, he held a somewhat bitterness towards him. He would interfere with the taunting.

That was the breaking point, you snapped, you started to smoke, have hook-ups, sometimes coming to hands when a marauder approached you, getting into detention. It was beginning of sixth year, and you were already begging to be transferred to France. And now you were being paired up with him...

He was now taller than you, the king of the Gryffindor house, a king in bed too apparently, his hair reached his shoulders, and he was currently picking at it in annoyance. This was going to be a long ride. "Spencer." He noded coldly. "Black." You spat back, knowing he hated it. He ran away from home during summer. "Seems like we must bear each other more often now..." Sirius' jaw clenches at the name but then he smirks. "You seem to love the idea of me, Spencer. You scoff. "Not in a million years. I wouldn't dream to spend my time with a whoreman." He raised a brow. "You can talk, Spencer, heard Parker had the worst night in his entire life."

"Knob." "Minger." "Tosser." "Slag." "Dog with two dicks." "Trollop."

"Enough! Both of you, two hours of detention and 10 points from Gryffindor for each." Slughorn shouted, red in the face. You groaned in annoyance and let Slughorn return back to his class. When class finally ended, you jumped out of your seat, wanted nothing more than to find Reggie to let your feelings out.

"See you in detention, Spencer!" He yelled that throughout the corridor, making you wince and groan. You soon found Regulus where you expected him to be: at the astronomy tower. As soon as he saw your face, he knew what you were going to ramble about, so he let you... You spoke about how he was annoying for about 30 minutes, Regulus just quietly hummed from time to time, not really listening to what you said. After all, every single week, you would have that kind of moment where you couldn't stop complaining about his older brother.

"Can you even believe he said that? Reggie? Are you even listening to me ?" Regulus did not bother looking up from his book. "Not really..." You huffed at this. "Rude..."

Regulus sighed and closed his book, finally looking at you. "N/N, it's my brother we're talking about." "Yeah, yeah, I know, but still... You could listen to me!" And here you go again complaining about how he was your only friend, and you hoped for a better communication, blah, blah, blah. Regulus just shook his head and interrupted you after more five minutes. "Look at your watch N/N." You frowned. "My watch? Why in hell would I look at my- Oh shoot, I'm gonna be late for detention." You picked up your bag and started running towards the stairs. "Have fun!" "Don't count on it."

You arrived, out of breath at the detention class. You looked around and found yourself relieved that Sirius wasn't there yet and head now no reason to taunt you about your late arrival. "Running late, Spencer?" You shrieked away from the sound and the warm breath on your neck, only to find an amused Sirius Black.

You punched him in the chest "What is wrong with you!" Sirius cackled. "What? Scared you?" "First; in your dreams, and second, you don't talk into people ear for no reason." Sirius smirks, looking you up and down. "Well, I just did."

"Now, now, may you take your sits." A voice interrupts. You both jumped in surprise from the new arrival of the head-teacher. You obeyed and took sits across from each other. McGonagall took place before you. "So, I decided, you would have two hours of detention for two whole weeks." "What ?!" you exclaimed in sync. McGonagall sighed and shook ger head. "And before you say anything, you will do a project that you will present to me..." You raised your brows, your eyes narrowed, knowing the worse was to come. "And what might the subject be?" She smiled. "What is the true limit between hate and love ?"

Sirius groaned in annoyance. "Aw, come on Minnie, Spencer here doesn't even know what love is." "Like you know what family is?" you said through your teeth. He glared at you.

McGonagall shrugged straightening her gown. "I'll take my leaving, do whatever you want, but by the end of those weeks, I want this fifteen pages essay on my desk, or you will have another two weeks plus another subject along with the one you already have." And with that, she left you both, stunned in the middle of the classroom. You looked at each other before turning around furiously, behind your back, you heard some shuffles, you turned and saw that Sirius was leaving.

"What are you doing?" Sirius turned to you, looking at you like it was obvious. "What am I doing? I'm leaving... You take care of the essay." My first clenched into tight balls, ready to punch him. "You think I will do the work for you?! Sit your ass back here before I hex you to next year." He didn't object because he knew perfectly you would do what you promised. Once he dared not to follow your order under some threat and he got out with a broken nose.

"So, what do we do genius?" You sighed at his never-ending sarcasm. "Well, the work we were asked to do. You do friendship, I do hatred." You passed him a parchment. After a few minutes, you looked up and saw him staring blankly at his parchment. You sighed heavily; you were gone for a long evening. You frowned. "What's up?" "I can't seem to write a thing; I can't formulate love."

Him? This boy with his literal lovestruck girl fan club, he can't formulate love? "Well, what place friendship took in your life. What impact did it have? What makes a good friend, lover? Got it?" "Yeah, I guess? But there's a specific word I can't seem to find that describes it perfectly." "Maybe, it'll come back later..."

He smiled at you, that was the first sincere smile he sent your way since that day almost seven years ago. And that went on that way. Every day, after class, you would find an empty class to work on your subject. The marauders were surprised to find their friend happily going to detention. The black-haired boy didn't tell them about the essay and the paired chore.

"Y/N! Look!" He was making a little paper bird fly around the class. But you did not look up for that reason. He called you by your name, not your last name, it never happened. And part of you hated the fact that you liked how your name sounded in his mouth. "What?" he frowned at your puzzled expression. "You never did that..." He bent his head to the side in question, his hair flowing a bit away from the improvised bun he made with his wand. "Did what?" "My name, you never called me by my name... You always call me: Spencer, or Trollop, but never Y/N." His cheeks got a bit red from your remark, but he smirked. "What? Do you prefer princess?" I blush a bit and shove his shoulder jokingly. "Shut up." He cackled but got a bit more serious. "Now your turn." You stopped in your giggle. "What?" "Say my name."

You raised your brows in surprise. "In your dreams maybe." You said, returning to the parchment. You heard his chair making a rackling sound on the ground and a shadow appeared upon you. You looked up and he was hovering you, his two hands on the table. "Uh-Wha are you doing?" his eyes narrowed "Say. It." You looked at him like he was crazy. "No, you-" He got closer to your face, merely inches away. "Say it for me, princess~" your cheeks got hot at this. You sputtered on your sounds. "S-Sirius." He suddenly smirked, winking and returning to his original place. You stood there completely shocked... You huffed a chuckle at his obvious flirting, the two whores of the school in the same room... what a duo.

From that day, he started to get closer to you, he felt like a connection, and you felt it too. Inside this class, you were Y/N and Sirius, two pureblood Gryffindors with surprisingly a lot of common points. But as soon as you were out of the room you were Black and Spencer, the well-known enemies.

He didn't know when he started, when he started to look for your eyes in class or just your silhouette. When he started to notice the sound of your voice when you whispered something to Lily in class, when he started to notice how you played with your quill in class, or how many boys would send you notes during potion. He didn't but the marauders did, they saw his gaze change.

A week later, he turned around looking at you, while you were writing furiously. "Sooo... Y/N. Any boyfriend yet?" You clenched your jaw. "You know I don't, you ruined every date I have." He nodded looking a bit ashamed at your paper. "I meant no crush?" You finally looked up from your paper. "Sirius, what are you trying to do?" he scratched his neck. "Uh- a conversation?" You narrowed your eyes. "Okay... Well, I have no love interest at the moment. Do you?" He froze at your sentence but regained his smug posture. "Never! That's funniest part." "Make them think you are attached?" "Exactly." You both chuckled. "You know Sirius... You never told me why you hated me so much." He stopped in his track. How could he tell you it wasn't really your fault but his pride was in the way. "Well-" he got cut off when James entered the room. "Pads, we need you, Snivellus again." He clenched his fists. These days, Severus has been annoying Lily and Remus. He got up, forgetting the assignment. You followed them, knowing nothing good could come up.

Both bolted towards next to the shrieking shack. There, you saw a few green dots with a few reds. You soon recognised them to be a Slytherin gang with Regulus and Severus and others, against a panicked Peter, Remus and Lily. You arrived after James and Sirius did, they disarmed them. You noticed Regulus and Peter were trying to calm the whole thing but became stiff when the two other Gryffindor arrived. James started to shout, being defensive about his girl, it all started to transform into a fit of shouts, all of them argued. You tried to calm them all. Then suddenly, a word rung out louder than any other "You filthy little mudblood."

Everyone stopped, turning to a furious Snape. James immediately took action, hexing him. You watched in horror as the Slytherin flied away. The whole Slytherin gang, except Regulus, raised their hands towards James. The Gryffindors reciprocated, except for Lily, Remus and you. You all tried to calm everyone. "Guys, let's all calm down." Remus said, over the tense silence. They did not budge. "James, it's no use, put that wand down!" Lily exclaimed, fearing they would get hurt. "Sirius, put the wand down." You tried to say, hoping he would finally listen to you. He looked at you, a bit surprised but with a small sorrow in his eyes.

Regulus suddenly stepped up, trying to reason the rest. But he did a move that frightened his older brother, who had for only reaction to hex him. "Reggie!" You shouted, running where he landed. You took his head on your lap while he groaned in pain. "Reggie! Can you hear me?! Where does it hurt?!"

Sirius was shocked by what he did. He tried to take a step towards the two of you. "No! Don't get closer!" you shouted at him, tears welling up in your eyes. He stopped when he noticed the tears. His heart pang a little. There you were, holding his brother in your arms, crying for him, protecting him, for what he has done. What did he do wrong to not be in his brother place? He took a step back. "Y/N-"

You did not listen to him, giving Regulus your full attention. You didn't hear the fuming Slytherin mumbling a curse, a forbidden one. You only noticed Sirius stepping up before your crouched down body, paring the curse. That's when your brain registered what happened, Sirius just prevented you from being struck by the cruciatus curse. You looked at him shocked, as he turned back to you. "You okay?" You don't have time to answer that Regulus groans while trying to sit up. "Reggie! Don't move! Lucius, can you help me bring him to Madam Pomfrey?" The blond reluctantly accepted. And Sirius watched as you disappeared for the hospital wing. 

"Pads, you okay?" James finally stepped up; Sirius jumped. "Yeah, yeah. Let's get going..." he started to walk back to the castle, leaving his friends worried.

During the next week, you avoided Sirius. You sent him a howl, telling him he didn't have to come to detention with you anymore since you had already finished the essay. He tried to talk to you, but everytime he came into your view, you sped off somewhere. His mood was at the lowest, and his friends were worried. Just a week ago he was on his best mood and now... he didn't want to do pranks anymore.

Slowly sadness turned into confusion, then anger. He did not do anything wrong! It was an accident. You were a Gryffindor, you should be on their side, not his brother's.

One afternoon, he was walking with the marauders next to the Black Lake, when he heard a distinct laugh. You were with Regulus, next to a tree, while he was telling you what seemed to be the funniest story ever. You were leaning on his shoulder, giggling softly. It only woke his anger. Why were you laughing with him? His brother who had that pureblood mania anchored in his head while you didn't. If anything, you had more common points with Sirius, so why him?

He noticed how you touched, how you looked at each other, smiling softly, hugging. He was sure of it now, you loved his brother, like his parent did. Like everyone he used to know did. You were no good compared to those purebloods.

He got red in anger and started speed walking towards the two of you, leaving the rest of his friend confused as to why he bolted away. Seeing the scene, the rest of the marauders stayed close on his tail. Regulus and you didn't notice them coming your way, too focused on the story Regulus was telling you.

With a flick of his wand, Sirius made the book Regulus held fly away. You both looked up confused. "Spencer! Interrupting something?" he said with a cold tone, the marauders got to their level, a foot behind him, still very confused. "Sirius, what are you doing?" you said in confusion, avoiding his gaze. "Stopping you from fucking my brother." All of you looked at him in shock. You stood up menacingly. "What did you say?" "I said I don't want a whore like you getting closer to my brother."

"I don't know what you're-" "I always knew you were a slut, but to this point... Fucking someone a year younger than you..." This time you were really taken aback, Regulus stood up. "Sirius, stop it-" "So, now you care about him?" You interrupted. "Because last time I checked you abandoned him." Sirius' fists clenched in anger. "What. Did. You. Say?" "Don't make me repeat myself..."

"Sirius, calm down..." Remus tried to say. "Shut up Remus! This is between me and Spencer here." He spat back, not breaking eye contact. "You worthless bitch..." "Why are you like this..." "Because I despise you to my very core..." You took a deep shaky breath. The boys took a step forward, wanting to stop their friend to say something he'll regret. You shook your head, the words slipped out, out of pure anger. "You're no Gryffindor, you're even worse than your mother."

He saw red. He muttered a spell, sending you in the lake. "Y/N!" Regulus shouted. You did not know how to swim. The Slytherin ran towards the water, running into it but soon stopping because he did not know how to swim either. The marauders look at him in confusion as to why he was panicking so much. Then they saw you did not come back to the surface. Regulus turned to his brother in full panic "She can't swim you idiot!"

You, on the other side, started to panic. Your robe was preventing you from doing any proper movement. You debated against it, your lungs burning. You reached the surface for a mere second, screaming for help as water was entering your throat.

James was the first to take action. He took off his robe and ran across the dock, dipping in the cold water. He swam quickly to you. Black dots were starting to cover your vision because of the lack of oxygen. You couldn't debate anymore, you let go, the water swallowing you.

Sirius' heart clenched when he saw you slowing down your debating movements the disappearing completely under the surface. What has he done?

You felt two strong pair of arms circling around, pulling you back up. You barely felt it bringing you back to the dock, laying you down. You heard a few quick steps coming your way on the dock. A few different voices. "N/N!" Regulus... "Y/N can you hear us?" James... "She's not breathing!" Peter... "Give her space..." Remus... Then a force pulled out the water out of your lungs, making you cough. You slowly opened my eyes, the light aggressing your sight. Remus helped you sit up as you coughed away all the water. Yourbreathing was a bit weird, and you were pale, almost blue but you were alive. "Y/N, are you okay?" Remus asked you, and you just nodded, still panting a bit. Regulus held you tight, clearly worried. "N/N, I'm so sorry, I couldn't help you." "It's okay Reggie, you don't know how to swim either. I'm here." He hugged you even tighter.

You saw Sirius, a few feet away, looking down. You got up to your feet, wobbling a bit. "Y/N, I'm so sor-" You pushed him violently backwards. "What did I ever do to you?!" You were drenched but Sirius could still see the tears streaming down your face. "Y/N, I didn't know-" "I could have died! You fucking idiot !" Regulus came behind you, placing a calming hand on your shoulder. "Y/N, calm down." "No! I don't know what I ever did to you. But know that from now on, I will stop trying, stop trying to be a little part of your life! I hate you Sirius Black!" You ran pass him to the castle, Regulus hot on your tail.

Sirius stayed like that unmoving, fixing the spot you were before. Hate him? He was thinking about what happened in the spent of ten minutes. You almost died, because of him, because he was selfish, because he was jealous... Because he loved you...

[hobvitr]

pavitr prabhakar x reader

gn! reader.

genre/warnings: fluff, angst if you squint, stabilized relationship, reader has anxiety, mention of wounds, blood, just a lil blurb

sinopses: you discover you boyfriend is spiderman, but just because he has nowhere to go to treat his wounds.

what else to do on a tuesday night instead of sketch some stuff and finish your homework, right? your boyfriend occupied for god knows how long due to his "grown up" responsibilities who you wouldn't even question too much, knowing he as well might have his privacy and you trust him blindly.

you draw stern lines with your pencil above the paper, headphones on and you hum along some of your favorite songs. a light thud catches your attention, looking up from the paper to look at your right... nothing. then your left..

"what the- WHAT THE FUCK?" your voice comes out first at a normal volume, then coming more like a whisper-yell as you look at pavitr entering your room through your window. but the problem is, you live in a building at the sixth floor, and he's using a spiderman suit.

"hey babe" he starts with a slight smile, holding his mask in one hand and the other pressing firmly at his side, blood coming out of the wound. "I'm sorry to bother you-"

"pav you're bleeding, what happened?!" you frown, worried sick as you come closer to him to help him hold the wound, not even processing he's literally Spiderman. you scold him to sit on your bed, a hiss coming out of his lips. "wait here, I'm getting a aid kit"

you don't even wait for his response, running to the bathroom and getting everything that you needed. as you got back into your room, you could hear your heartbeat fastening with worry, breath hitching and fingers trembling holding the gauze as you kneel in front of him.

pavitr could read your body language and even sense the unhealthy amount of anxiety you were experiencing right now. "hey- hey, look at me" he placed his unbloodied hand on your cheek, making you look at his face. "it's okay, i'm okay... it'll be fine" his voice coming out soothing and making you stead your breath. "thank you for helping me, hot stuff" the nickname made you let out a brief laugh, being able to concentrate on doing the best bandage you could.

the second you were done with the bandage, you clean the other small cuts he had on his face and arms. you let out a sigh once you're done with the cleaning, looking at his eyes now. "I can't believe you addressed being spiderman as 'grown up responsibilities', really" you said casually, not yet being able to assimilate who your boyfriend was.

"it was the best i could come up with" he said with a chuckle, patting his side at the bed so you could sit up with him instead of kneeling on the ground. "you do sound a bit unimpressed" he leans back a little, his hands back on the bed for support.

"sorry, didn't have the time to freak out about you being a hero, was kinda busy with you dying from bleeding out" you said in a teasing manner, now analysing him in his suit. "that explains so much, actually... that's why i always found spiderman so attractive" you kept teasing him, now with a grin.

"so you have a crush on spiderman and didn't tell me?!" pav said faking offense laying his hand on his chest after a laugh burst out of him, arms coming to hold both your sides in a warm hug. you hug him back, careful with his wounds. "you know i'm gonna worry about you like, three times more, right?" you say, head buried on his neck, taking in his fresh scent.

"i know, but now i'll be three times more careful to come back unharmed to you" you could feel him smiling against your head. he leaned slightly back, making you look at his eyes, which was looking directly at your lips. you let out a small chuckle and kissed him slowly and softly, making him smile in the process.

as you remember you actually need to breathe, you reluctantly pull off, making pav whine jokingly. "nooo, i need more kisses from my sunshine to get better faster" you giggle, mumbling a 'good point' against his lips and taking his request, cuddling with him for the rest of the night.

[zosan-secondchances]

The Pirate King of the North: Part 12

Main Themes: V̸͉́i̸̘͛l̶̘̀l̴̞͘a̷͙͆ǐ̶̧ṅ̷̰ ̸̉͜Ṡ̶̬a̷̞̎n̴͖̚j̵͝ͅḯ̶͖, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship

Warning: Long post ahead and some One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language and explicit content.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

While Zoro, Sanji and Law were in the middle of their little game, Niji had other things to attend to.

The sun is nearly set and the blue-haired commander was crouched down, safely hidden in the dark refuge of the treeline overlooking a tavern in Mock Town. It had been raining around Jaya as the Heart Pirate mink had predicted.

For hours now, he'd been listening to the conversation between the establishment's patrons and one of Doflamingo’s lackeys, Bellamy the Hyena. The obnoxious man drunkenly bragged about the different missions he'd been personally assigned to by the Warlord himself. As one of Germa’s skilled agents, Niji knew that most of the his stories had been embellished to impress the crowd.

He's glad that he had managed to slip in a transponder snail in Bellamy's possession earlier that day. It wasn't easy, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity before him.

While one hand holds onto his own snail, he reaches up to check the state of his helmet with the other, worried about its condition as he feels a large part of the front barely hanging on. He knew that one significant damage to it may split his entire headwear, and he doesn't have enough resources to patch it up if that occurs. If he's not careful, he might put himself out of commission for months until Sanji is able to make him a new one.

He considers bailing multiple times in favour of actually doing exactly what his brother had instructed him to do for his own safety. He meant to drop off the condensed Seastones at one of their labs, go home to recover and get help from Reiju or Ichiji to repair his helmet, then off to Dressrosa to go undercover.

Ultimately, he decides to delay the new mission in favour of staying a bit longer, not wanting to miss the slim chance that he could learn more about the current whereabouts of Doflamingo and his plans from one of his loyal lackeys who reside in an island that's way out of reach given its immense distance from home.

There was a sudden snap of a twig nearby. Without hesitation, he draws out his sword and swings behind him. He stops his attack just inches away from an open palm hand that was ready to catch his blade. He hisses at the sight and begins to speak in a hushed manner.

Niji

Fuckin’ hell, Yonji. 

The green-haired man, fully equipped in his Raid Suit, straightens up and cracks his neck side to side.

Yonji

Yo.

Niji

Don't do that. I don't have Sanji's observation haki. That freak can tell how many steps I take on my way to the bathroom from my own bloody room.

Niji sheaths his sword then places the transponder snail gently on a rock protruding out of the grass in front of them so they can both hear the ongoing conversation through it. He takes notice of Yonji kneeling down next to him, also attentively listening in. The other man mirrors his whispering.

Yonji

Maybe you're just getting sloppy. What with how much you wear that…thing.

Yonji nods towards his cracked helmet. Niji gives him a side glance in return, unaffected by the statement. Wearing it for prolonged periods has been an argument that they repeatedly have now and then. The last time this was in discussion, they simply agreed to disagree.

Niji 

So? Where's yours?

Yonji

I didn't bring it.

The blue-haired man sighs disappointingly.

Niji 

I know it's useless to tell you, but you really oughta have it on hand more often. Even if it's just for emergencies.

Yonji grunts in response. He tips his head towards the den-den mushi.

Yonji

So what are you doing here?

Niji 

I'm here to see to a rumour. Well…several rumours.

Yonji

Rumours?

Niji nods. He allows himself to relax a little now that he has his brother for support. He sits back on his ass and leans his head back to look up at the trees, watching the droplets of water drip down from their leaves.

Niji 

Word is, Doflamingo had managed to find Sanji's…owner. The one he was sold to when he was younger.

Yonji raises a brow at him, intrigued at the news.

Niji

And…apparently, he'd given up a lot just to buy him. It cost a fortune.

The green-haired man crosses his arms, processing the information.

Yonji

Is it to get the Celestial Dragons off his back…or to control him? The last I heard, Mihawk backed out of the hunt suddenly.

Niji

Mihawk was assigned? I thought the old fossil was retiring?

To answer your question, I'm not sure yet…. I'm inclined to believe that it could be both, knowing the devil.

He shifts in his seat and pulls up his hood to protect himself from the now pouring rain. Glancing to the side, he notices Yonji just accepted getting soaked, his hair slightly disheveled.

Niji

The other rumour is that this guy, Bellamy, is keeping the Proof of Ownership papers safe for Doflamingo. It's…not much of a rumour given how big his mouth is.

Sure enough, the transponder snail bellows out the man's loud laughter after bragging about his newest promotion, and how he's well on his way to become the Warlord's right hand man if he plays his cards right.

Niji

It makes sense that he'd assign him here to hide the papers. This place is on the opposite side of the world from Dressrosa, and the guy is grossly loyal.

But I'll believe it when I see it. With you here, we might actually be able to find and destroy them right here and now. Then we can finally cut ties without all the running around to see if Corazon is still alive or not.

Yonji

Hmm….

Niji 

See? You can come up with a perfectly logical plan, even with emotions!

Yonji

Tch.

Niji 

Speaking of plans…what are you doing here? Are Reiju and Ichiji around too?

I told you guys that I can respond to Sanji's distress signal by myself since I'm the fastest. I didn't call for backup.

Yonji

I came to check in because Reiju had exclusively ordered you to extract Sanji from the Demon Warlord. And you've gone radio silent for weeks.

What's your status?

Niji shrugs his shoulders.

Niji 

I needed to disappear to safely escort Sanji and the Heart Pirates to Skypiea.

He didn't need rescuing. He's… ugh… “involved” with the Demon Warlord now. They're travelling together.

Yonji takes a sharp breath in and glares at him.

Yonji

He died in his presence, Niji. How do you suppose that happened? Roronoa Zoro has been trying to kill him for a very long time.

Niji

Look, I know it's a shock. But you're just going to have to trust me on this one. Things have changed. Reiju and Ichiji would get it. I'm sure of it.

I…have a feeling that we'll see more of that swordsman. Ugh….

The blue-haired commander runs his fingers over the cracks of his helmet.

Niji

I'll never forgive him for this though. But at least I know that he can hold himself in a fight. I can vouch that he is what they say he is.

Yonji

He did that? We already knew that he's a monster.

Niji 

Err…yeah. But I started the fight.

Yonji stands calmly, his eyes hidden from his darkened expression. His movements were almost robotic and stiff.

Yonji

You failed to extract Your Majesty from the Demon Warlord, as you were ordered to.

Your own, clearly, terrible decision-making ability includes starting a fight with the very enemy our king cannot defeat himself. You've put yourself in danger, and potentially our home.

Niji looks up at him with his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Yonji

The worst part is, you allowed their relationship to develop when you could have done something about it. It almost sounds like you approve of it.

Niji

I watched them very carefully for weeks, Yonji. It's not exactly a decision that's up to me either. Sanji seemed genuinely happy and…

His mind floods with the small shy moments that he has had with their head chef, Cosette: The way she'd put extra syrup aside for his waffles just the way he likes it; how she'd give him the warmest smile as they pass each other by the halls; how she'd stay up late just to personally deliver him a glass of water during his training sessions, how their fingers would gently touch when she passes it to him, and how his heart would jump at every contact that they allowed each other.

Niji

It's not… easy for us. We're not exactly the perfect family, or humans for that matter. We're barely one. You know?

Yonji

No, I don't know, Niji.

He takes a looming step forwards, as he raises his clenched fists up to his sides.

In retaliation, Niji swiftly jumps back to a stance, unsheathing his sword with one hand while the other clawed outwards as sparks of electricity emanate from it.

Niji

Yonji…you never told me how you knew where to find me.

There was a moment of silence. Only then did the blue-haired man realise that there were no more sounds coming from the transponder snail.

He hears rustling of leaves all around and notices a contingent of pirates surrounding them. Bellamy himself is stalking directly behind him with a malicious grin on his face.

When he returns his gaze to his brother, the last thing he sees is a fist before darkness overtakes him.

—

Zoro emerges from the tent in the wee hours of the morning, only wearing his haramaki and trousers as he ended up using his robe to clean himself from Sanji's nosebleed last night. The air was chilly, and the surroundings were covered in a layer of fog from the abundance of the clouds present in Skypiea. The swordsman squints his eye and looks around, trying to make sense of the state of their campsite. He finds Law bent over what used to be their campfire, trying to relight it to make himself a morning coffee.

Zoro

Hey, have you seen Curly?

Law grumbles quietly to himself, cursing at the damp kindling that he tosses away to swap for a new one.

Law

How should I know? I thought he was with you?

I barely slept a wink last night. I thought you two promised to tone it down while we're travelling together?

Zoro

He went out but didn't come back last night.

Law snaps his head over his shoulder to look at him. After a brief pause, he stands, dropping the flint he'd been using.

Law

That's not good.

In a rush, the swordsman passes him to get to their packs and begins dressing himself with a fresh shirt to protect himself from the chill.

Zoro

I'm going to look for him. I'll be back.

He secures his swords around his waist and is about to depart when Law holds his hand out in front of him.

Law

No, the fog is too thick. You need to stay here.

Zoro

All the more reason for us to spread out to find him.

Law

Not when you're doing it with someone who has a sense of direction of a rock.

Zoro suddenly enrages and grabs to pull him by the scruff of his neck. His other fist clenched in the air just inches away from the doctor's face.

Zoro

I don't have time for this shit, Traffy. Don't try to stop me.

With widened eyes, Law grips Zoro's wrist and tries to wriggle away from his hold with no luck. He studies the man's clearly panicked state then raises both his hands in defeat.

Law

I apologise. That was uncalled for.

Do you know where he'd gone and why he left? You don't think he was…

Zoro pushes him away and runs a hand over his own face. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he shut his eye tight, feeling remorseful and distressed.

Zoro

I said something that may have freaked him out. I just…. Maybe we were taking things too fast? This is all new to me. I've never….

How do you know when to say the right things? I just thought we…. Maybe I'm reading things wrong….

When he finishes talking–or rather, stammering out words–he crosses his arms together, looking small.

Law's expression softens as he feels sympathy for him.

Law

Room.

A blue sphere expands from his hand outwards then he brings out his sword to raise it slightly out of its sheath.

The swordsman looks around him to watch.

Law

Scan.

A vertical beam travels outwards from his blade then around the orb surrounding the area. When it finishes its revolution with no results, Law sighs disappointingly and returns his sword in its scabbard. He walks towards their packs and begins to rummage through his belongings.

Law

He's not nearby, so I need you to stay and see if there's any clues as to his whereabouts.

Zoro

But–

The doctor throws a transponder snail to him as he pockets one for himself, interrupting the other man's protests. Zoro catches the small creature in time.

Law

Someone needs to stay here in case he comes back. The fog’s a bit thick so I'll need to scan further away to see if I can find him. With luck, I don't have to use it too much. It's a little exhausting.

Call me if you find anything useful or if there's trouble.

The swordsman opens the palm of his hand to stare at the snail in his possession, then he gives the other man a glare, unhappy with his decision.

Law

Mr. Prince-ya wouldn't just leave us without good reason. He did just say that he's sticking around last night.

He starts walking past him then pauses.

Law

Though you should know…

Zoro furrows his brows worriedly, listening intently.

Law

We're not out of the woods yet after what happened in Sabaody Archipelago. I'm sure that you've read the papers and, least to say, it's not good. Expect some repercussions. We did everything we could to travel here unnoticed but…

Zoro

You don't think that's why I want to go out there? I should be the one looking for him.

Law turns to him with an annoyed expression on his face, his patience wearing thin.

Law

Not in this weather, Zoro-ya. Yesterday, you said that you'd follow my plans by the book–this is one of them. I entertained our little game but now, I need you to listen to me and stay. That's my final word.

He watches the swordsman visibly tremble in anger.

Zoro

I don't have to listen to you. You're not my captain.

What if… what if he….

Zoro's other hand clenches into a tight fist. The swordsman is still too anxious and stressed to be fully satisfied with the plan of action.

Law

If I'm not back in an hour, come find me, or do whatever the hell you want.

He approaches the other man to place a hand on his shoulder then gives it a reassuring shake.

Law

We don't know what happened yet. Maybe he just needed space last night and now he's off getting us some breakfast.

Zoro finally looks at him eye to eye. He breathes in deeply to compose himself.

Zoro

Alright. I just…I already waited all night and…nothing. I'm done sitting around.

The doctor gives him a final nod before walking away.

Law

One hour.

—

Law worked his way west and scanned again but yielded no results. So then he proceeds around to try his luck, southward from their campsite where they had travelled. He climbs a tree then scans the surroundings for his third attempt.

Finally, he sees a satisfying blink from his sights. He clambers down and proceeds to the location.

Approaching slowly, by a small stream, he finds Sanji in an oversized shirt, hunched over the edge, painstakingly washing a long piece of fabric that looks like his cloak.

The doctor was certain that his own footsteps made noises by the rustling of leaves and the snapping of twigs as he walked directly behind him but he didn't see any sort of reaction from the man. That's when he sees blood trailing downstream from the cloth.

Law

I've been looking everywhere for you.

The blonde didn't hear him. He continues to clean without so much as noticing what's happening close to him.

Law's eyebrows furrow, finding it unusual that the man with arguably the best observation haki between the three of them wasn't aware of his presence, let alone see his Room sphere when he scanned the area earlier.

Law

Mr. Prince-ya?

Nothing.

Carefully, he reaches out and touches the man's shoulder.

Sanji flinches and gasps as he turns his head over his shoulders to look at the doctor frightfully. His wide eyes bore deep shadows underneath it and he looks visibly shaken from the contact. He was pale and looked thinner than usual with his sunken cheeks, on which one side had a fresh purple bruise and his lip had been cut open on one corner.

Law’s eyes widen but he stops himself from looking too shocked at his state. He withdraws the hand that he held him with, and raises it as a sign that he meant no harm.

Law

Are you okay? The swordsman said that you've been missing since last night.

Sanji eases a little but he still looks very tense. He returns his attention to washing the stain off his cloak. Upon closer inspection, the doctor catches sight of his trembling body, evident by the mad involuntary shaking of his hands. 

Sanji

I'm here, aren't I?

He spat out the words with a forced voice that sounds venomous but Law detects a layer of facade with the man. He lets him carry on, but he can't help but notice that the bloodstain that he's meticulously working on had already been rubbed onto the fabric permanently, and it looks like he's just cleaning it more so to keep his hands occupied and while his mind is probably someplace else. It would explain the vulnerable state he'd unintentionally put himself in.

Law

I find it hard to believe that this is where you've been all night. Where were you? Did something happen?

Sanji

I just needed some space. I'll be up there in a second, alright? So just leave me be.

Sanji hunches his shoulders and shifts a little, causing his hair to fall forward around his shoulders. It reveals his uncovered neck.

Softly and gently, Law speaks to him in a low voice.

Law

You know…if you like, I can remove it.

Sanji

Can you leave me alone? Please…? I can do laundry just fine like I have been for everyone on your ship. So go away.

The blonde's voice broke as he spoke and his body trembled more. His face is hidden under the fringe of his hair but the doctor could tell he's on the verge of crying.

Law gives him a moment. When he notices that the quiet is progressively causing the blonde to shake further, he continues.

Law

I meant your slave mark.

Sanji stills. His hands slowly clench into fists.

Law

When I operated on you, I wanted to remove it like I did with Jean Bart's but I didn't want to do it without your consent.

I can't remove it with my powers because it's burnt on your skin but I can surgically repair it with clean skin tissues. I just need a small sample from you. It will look like nothing happened.

Sanji

But something did happen.

A lot of shit. Happened.

He accentuated parts of his statement by growling the words and frustratingly punching into the shallow water with splashes. Law has a feeling that he wasn't just referring to the events surrounding his mark. After a few seconds of quiet, the blonde sniffs as his head dips down. The doctor could hear him sobbing softly.

Unintentionally, Law strokes the furline of his own coat, remembering that silly bet that the other man took and honoured with the Heart Pirates crew.

Law

Or…you know, I can just…clean your laundry for a change. It won't take long at all.

You've been doing that for us for a while, even way past you were expected to.

Law had said that in a light tone as an attempt to brighten up the mood. Clearly the blonde didn't want to talk about what's bothering him but he needed–wanted–to try and make him feel better. Only then did he notice how Luffy and Sanji's positivity and kindness had rubbed off on him over time.

There is a brief pause then suddenly Sanji drops his cloak, turns to stand and wraps his arms around to pull him into a tight hug, pinning his arms to the sides. The blonde begins sobbing quietly but his shoulders shakes violently.

Law

Uhh….

Law has no idea what to do. He stands there uncomfortably for a while as he lets the man cry it out. He tries to remember what Luffy, Bepo or anyone on his crew would do in this situation. In the end, he resorts to giving him awkward pats on the back as far up as he could reach.

Law

Th–there, there…?

He spoke with great uncertainty and felt his face flush red from embarrassment. It really isn't like him to even say that or return someone's hug, and yet here he is. He begins to question how and why he got into this mess.

Eventually, Sanji releases him and takes a step back, looking down sorrowfully with his eyes full of tears and nose runny with snot. Law wasn't sure how much help he did after seeing the state of him, but he believed that the fact that the blonde is out of whatever trance he was in is progress.

Law

Listen, when you told me everything about your family weeks ago, your brother said that you were offering your trust for mine. So that's what I'm doing, okay?

Sanji

Oh, Traffy….

Sanji cleans his face by wiping it with the inside collar of his shirt. When he sets his arms down, he looks less sad but more anxious.

Law

So whatever happened last night, I trust that you did the right thing. I'm not going to question you about it or ask for details unless it's something you want to talk to me about, but that's up to you.

And… there's nothing… weird about… hugs.

Law shivers at mentioning the word, earning a weak smile from the blonde but it didn't last long as it fades as quickly as it came. Then finally, Sanji replies softly.

Sanji

Right….

Law

Right.

We should probably head back before Zoro-ya wanders off on his own. I promised I'd be back with you before the hour's out.

But… think about my offer? We can do it any time back on my ship.

…No pressure.

The blonde didn't reply. Instead, he averts his gaze and wraps his arms around himself after hearing his other half's name.

Law walks past him to pick up the discarded cloak by the stream. With flicks of his hand, he casts his Room ability and extracts the water and blood from the fabric. He then offers it back to Sanji who takes it gratefully.

—

Zoro was about to head out ten minutes earlier than the agreed time period when Law returned with Sanji in tow. The man looked worse than when he carried him back from Sabaody, but he was thankful that his life wasn't in immediate danger and, to his knowledge, there was less blood involved.

When the swordsman approached to fuss and ask details about the blonde's facial injuries and events of the previous night, the doctor stopped him and told him to give the man some space. Sanji simply walked by them and proceeded to properly dress himself and pack up for the day.

Breakfast was put together before setting out, which the blonde took initiative to prepare and serve for the other two with their own choice of morning brew. He didn't have any for himself. Instead, while the others ate their fill, he took a moment to burn the cursed oversized shirt that he had returned to camp with.

—

The fog had settled, which the three were grateful for, but the trek was a lot quieter compared to the exciting one yesterday.

Their path has fewer trees now, but in place is a steep uphill trail with an open meadow littered with flowers and ancient ruins covered with overgrown moss sticking out of the ground. Thanks to the clearer weather, the vast spread of the White Sea is visible, stretching far into the distance if one is to turn their backs to the small dirt path they had been following. The intensity of the wind was more punishing the higher they travelled, but the sight was to behold.

Sanji kept his distance, choosing to be the last one behind as he followed the two like a mindless husk, too dazed to pay attention to the lovely scene before him. Zoro thought that he'd absolutely be beside himself at the sight in his normal state. He was tempted to take pictures for the man on his behalf like he was doing throughout yesterday but decided against it as the blonde probably didn’t want any proof of a time when he’s feeling down. A part of him was really hoping that the view would bring him some semblance of joy. 

It didn't. Instead, Sanji kept his head down and trudged on quietly. Law had to verbally call him out to make sure that he was heading the right direction several times, and to make sure that he hurdles the smallest of obstacles like walking over wobbly rocks because his head is too far gone to focus properly. Without Law's warnings, he'd be tripping on his feet, which had already occurred too many times for Zoro's liking.

Neither three had rested much from the previous night, that much the swordsman knows, but he suspects that the blonde had suffered more damage than just lack of sleep.

After a long while, Zoro couldn't handle the silence anymore. He slows down to distance himself from the doctor who was leading the way so he can have a quiet one-on-one with the blonde who was tailing behind them.

Mindful of the fragile state of the man, he speaks softly.

Zoro

Hey….

Sanji looks up briefly behind his deep eyebags but pays him no mind. He continues his way forwards, focusing his eyes on the path before him. The swordsman walks at his pace side by side, careful not to get too close.

Zoro

Curls, what's really going on?

He receives no reply.

Zoro

I’m worried about you. You were clearly hurt.

Nothing.

Zoro

Whatever it is, let me help.

His persistence was rewarded with a small reaction. The blonde's body tenses and he hugs his cloak closer to him, trying to cover his body.

Zoro 

Whatever it is, you know we can take it together. You know I'm here for you.

Sanji halts in his steps. He hunches his shoulders again to look smaller, which seems to be his newest habit today.

Zoro

Please…talk to me.

The blonde dips his head down further and his lips start to tremble. He looks like he's on the verge of crying once more.

Law notices the absence of his companions directly around him. He turns around and finds the two having a conversation downhill from where he was standing. His eye twitches at the swordsman who clearly didn’t heed his advice so he tries to keep things moving along for the sake of Sanji’s sanity.

Law

Oi! We need to keep moving! I want to get back on track before midday.

Zoro

Hold on a sec!

He returns his attention to the shivering man in front of him.

Zoro has tried many times to communicate with his own words in the past. Some are more successful than others. This time, he thought he would try to look for some wisdom someplace else. He remembers Nami's words that stuck to him, so he adds his own spin to it.

Zoro

Curls, I just want you to be alright. I’m here for you. You… you have to let me in.

Tentatively, he reaches out, his fingers stretching with intention to caress the man's distraught face.

Zoro

Otherwise…I don't know how I can help.

He gently strokes his cheek with the back of his finger.

Sanji suddenly recoils. His eyes snap wide open angrily from the contact and he takes a wide swipe with his clawed gauntlet towards him. For a split second, Zoro sees that his arms shone black from armament haki.

Sanji

DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!

The swordsman crouches down to the side just in time to dodge his attack. His ear was just shy from being completely cut clean off his face but a few strands of his trimmed hair flew into the wind and he received a deep gash across his right cheek.

Law

Holy shit–!

The wind dies around them as Zoro fumbles to the ground. Then suddenly, the earth shook, followed by deafening cracks and a powerful blast of wind as the entire span of the meadow behind the swordsman was sliced into five long streaks outwards, shaped like a swipe of a claw which carved deep through the earth. Trees, shrubs and colourful flowers all across the cliffside are uprooted and carried away from the force, destroying them and sending them flying off towards the White Sea. The ground sizzled and glowed from extreme heat at the sharpest point of the impact.

There was nothing left of what used to be the peaceful meadow but misshapen earth and smoke emanating from the trenches. Any grass that was left is practically crisped from the blast.

Zoro and Law stared at the man, both shocked and speechless at the now panting Pirate King. His furious panicked eyes turn into a watery one as tears begin to form at the corner of his fierce blue eyes. He screams in a high pitch shrill of a voice.

Sanji

WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE, ZORO?!

Stunned from his reaction, the swordsman blanks out. He opens his mouth to say something–anything–but can't seem to form any words. He closes it and gulps, feeling uncertain of what's to come next.

Law watches the scene in front of him quietly, careful not to drop his guard in case the blonde loses control again.

Sanji takes a moment to realise what he'd done. When he does, his face suddenly eases into an impassive one and he retracts the blades from his gauntlets with a flick of his wrists. With a clear and firm voice, he speaks.

Sanji

We're done, Zoro.

Zoro's eye widens and his body stiffens.

Sanji

I'm staying to help Traffy like I promised.

But after this, it'll be the last time you see me.

The last line had a hint of sorrow to it as his voice gradually broke. He walks away and passes the swordsman to make his way to Law.

Before he could get too far out of reach, Zoro stands and grabs his hand.

Zoro

No.

Sanji swiftly spins, his other hand raised for another strike but the swordsman quickly gets a hold of his wrist with his opposite hand before the blonde’s haki forms.

Sanji

What the fuck do you think you're doing?!

He tries to pull himself away but Zoro tightens his hold. The swordsman knew he was taking a risk and was being selfish–but he needed the man to know what he had to say.

Zoro

I love you.

Sanji stills his movements. It was his turn to stare at him dumbfoundedly. His eyes are blown wide and pupils dilated.

Zoro

If I hadn't been clear about it before, here it is now.

I'm madly in love with you.

And there’s not a force in the world that can change that.

The blonde’s eyes fill with tears once more as his lips tremble. He parts his lips as if to say something but is met with Zoro’s own clashing onto his. The sudden contact made him gasp and he was too stunned to move. His body reacted involuntarily as the sensation flowed from his lips right through to the tips of his limbs like it needed it, wanted it, and thirsted for it. After a brief pause, he melts into the kiss and closes his eyes. Tears flowed down his cheek freely.

Zoro releases his arms as he snakes his own around Sanji’s figure to pull him close. The blonde’s hands held onto his shoulders for balance. The swordsman's kisses were purposely shallow, not wanting to push any further than he already has. He peppers his lips with tender kisses, trying to show him love by way of action, careful to avoid the deep cut on one side of his lip. He notices that the blonde isn’t returning his affection–only taking it–but he continues on. This was about giving, and he wants him to know he’s willing to give all he’s got.

When Zoro pulls away, the blonde has a flushed face. He opens his eyes slowly as their gaze locks together. His cheeks were red and wet from his own tears. The swordsman feels relief as it was the first healthy colour on his skin that he’d seen on the man since they reunited that morning.

Slowly and tenderly, Sanji slides his hands from his shoulders to cup his face and pulls him close. Zoro hugs him around the small of his waist as he closes his eye.

The next thing he knows, the blonde yanks him back by the face then jerks their heads together to deliver a punishing headbutt against his forehead.

Zoro

ACK–!

The swordsman reels, but before he could catch his balance, Sanji grips his shirt by the shoulders to deliver a swift kick between his legs.

Law winces at the sight and hisses behind his teeth. A hand shoots up to cover his mouth.

Zoro grimaces and falls on his knees before dropping to the ground as he holds onto his groin. He rolls to the side, writhing in pain from both his head and lower regions.

Zoro

What the hell, Dartbrows?!

Sanji lights a cigarette then steps over him smoothly to walk away.

Sanji

I told you not to fuckin’ touch me.

The doctor approaches Zoro calmly. He watches the swordsman rock himself side to side, hissing, as if that will soothe the pain. When the man eventually stills, he offers a hand to him.

Law

Not going to lie…you kinda deserved that. A little.

Zoro furrows at him with furious eyes but takes his hand anyway. He gets pulled up onto his feet. His legs almost give out but he manages to stay up, albeit wobbling in place.

Zoro

Thanks, asshole. How is that supposed to make me feel better?

Law

It’s not. I meant to add insult to injury. Literally.

Zoro

Some doctor you are….

The swordsman growls at him. He attempts to straighten up but he can still feel the remnants of the impact pulsating through his body.

Law turns his attention to the blonde who is now standing way ahead of them, waiting for them to catch up.

Law

Good job, Zoro-ya.

Zoro

Wh-what?

Law

At least he’s… feeling things now.

Zoro follows Law’s eyes and sees Sanji standing uphill. The man is looking around, finally taking in the scenery as he smokes his cigarette. His blonde hair flow gracefully in the wind.

Zoro

Yeah… I guess.

The swordsman felt relief but his heart sank at remembering the blonde’s words. He wonders to himself if this truly is the end of the line. His gaze lowers sadly to the ground. He feels Law pat him on the shoulder a couple of times before walking past him to continue leading the way forwards.

Sanji paid close attention to the environment in front of him. His body was angled so half of his vision sees the untouched, peaceful meadow while the other half was the part he destroyed. He takes a long drag of his smoke and closes his eyes. He let the memories of the previous night flood into his mind one last time before he knew he’d have to stow it away to make way for the worst ahead of them.

—

Doflamingo drags Sanji’s naked form by the hair into the brig of the Numancia Flamingo which is docked discreetly in the outskirts of Skypiea, somewhere in the White Sea. His hands have been covered and bound tight with indestructible strings to restrain him. He’s fully aware that the Warlord knew his weaknesses and he liked to take advantage of it. His neck strained from the jerking movements, and his scalp felt like it would tear away from his own head from the Warlord's pull.

Sanji

D–Doffy–it hurts!

Doflamingo

Do you know how much trouble I had to go through to get Celestial Dragons off you and your precious swordsman's backs after the stunt you pulled at Sabaody?

He throws the blonde aggressively into a dark cell where Sanji lands hard against the wall before falling onto the cold hardwood floor. He tries to recover quickly by propping himself up, crawling backwards and away from the man. 

Sanji

Doffy, please, let’s just ta–

The Warlord closes in on him and delivers a swift kick to the face to silence him, earning him a cut over his lips. He then forces the blonde's legs open wide by pinning him down using the same foot. He flicks his fingers in the air to bind the blonde's thighs against his calves. With a swirl of his own hand, strings hoist him off the ground, suspending his body from the ceiling in the middle of the room.

Sanji trembles at the painful binds and shivers at the chilly sensation between his legs. He coughs out blood from the back of his throat, nearly choking from it. He pants deep heavy breaths.

Sanji

Don't… do this…

Doflamingo

Do you know how much I had to give up to buy you? I couldn't even get full ownership.

Sanji

Wh–what? What do you mean buy…?

Doffy, what did you–AH!

Sanji grimaces at the sudden intrusion of Doflamingo’s long thick finger inside of him. His back arches involuntarily to try and get away from it. The other man wasn’t gentle, nor considerate. He pumped his digit in and out, loosening him in a rush with interest just for himself. 

Doflamingo

Hmm…I see you’ve been busy already. Do I have Roronoa Zoro to thank for preparing you for me?

The blonde tenses. He gives him a nasty glare and spits at his face. Doflamingo stills.

Sanji

Go to hell, you prick.

Sanji knows that he was well and truly in trouble when he sees it–the Warlord’s grin and laughter which sends shivers up his spine and makes his hair stand on end. When he looks down, he sees the other man's bulging erection in his pants.

Doflamingo

I love it when you talk like that to me.

He starts fucking him with his fingers fast, adding in a second then third digit, one after another with very little patience.

Sanji hisses at the sting. It felt like his ring was on fire. He feels himself open up but it's happening too fast, too dry.

Sanji

What–what do you want from me?

Doflamingo hums, considering the question.

Doflamingo

A discussion for later. There's something that I need you to do.

For now…

Finally, he pulls out. Sanji’s legs twitch involuntarily but the lack of intrusion brings him a small amount of relief. He tries to stabilise himself by taking in long steady breaths but his heart was thumping like mad.

Sanji

Doffy… please don’t.

The Warlord unzips his trousers and whips out his overly large cock. With the blonde suspended from the ceiling, his dick is already perfectly aligned with his rim. He gives it a couple of pumps then slaps Sanji's entrance with it, teasing him.

The blonde snarls and attempts to break free from his binds by thrashing around, tossing and tilting his body however he can.

Doflamingo

You know that fighting me only gets me going.

Sanji

I will always fight if it’s against my will.

And the moment I break free, I will finally fuckin’ end you.

Doflamingo

Mmm… that’s it… talk just like that, my pet.

Doflamingo grips Sanji’s jaws with his large hand and forces him to look at him face to face, keeping his body still.

Doflamingo

But now, don’t move around too much like a good boy, and this’ll be better for the both of us.

Sanji feels him attempt to insert his dick so he jerks his own head back and bites his hand, breaking his skin.

Doflamingo

AH–! MOTHER FU–

The blonde gets dropped roughly on the floor. He winces at the soreness of his joints but he powers through the pain and crawls away with his elbows, dragging himself across the floor. Just before he could make his way on the other side of the bars, the Warlord’s foot stomps mere inches away from his face, cracking the floor underneath him. He stops in fear that his skull would be next.

Doflamingo

Clearly, you’ve been left running around at your own accord for far too long.

He releases the binds around his legs then reaches out to grab him by the crown of his hair, hoisting him off the ground. The blonde cries out in pain.

Doflamingo

So help me, I'll have my money's worth. You've cost me greatly.

Sanji

I didn’t ask to be sold and bought!

Doflamingo drops him to fall on his knees, then swings his hand across to slap him hard, almost knocking him out. When Sanji’s body flimsily collapses to the side, the Warlord catches him by the back of his neck with a bruising grip. This time, he turns him away from him. He flicks his wrist to raise and hold the blonde’s arms up by strings so his frail body hangs lifelessly in front of him. With his long pointed tongue, he gives him a wet lick from the nape of his neck, then up to his face where he bites his earlobe before whispering.

Doflamingo

I own you now, Pirate King. Your mind, your body and your soul. 

Sanji can barely keep his eyes open at that point. Blood trickled down the side of his mouth from the inside. He coughs out blood again. Weakly, he replies as best as he can with a raspy voice.

Sanji

No.

Doflamingo pauses, raising a brow.

Sanji

I am…my own man.

I will always… fight for freedom–for myself and everyone who needs it. I only allied with you…to get Seastones and the names of people who deserve no mercy.

And…you. You are one of them.

When I get out of here, I will end you and your fuckin’ kingdom.

Doflamingo grins widely as he yanks his hair back. Sanji yelps at the sudden pain and motion. The Warlord buries his nose in his blonde locks then trails it down his neck, taking a long whiff of his scent.

Doflamingo

Mmm…you forget who's on the leash here, pet. Tell me, is this how you really want to play this?

Sanji

I will never stop fighting, Doflamingo. You can do all what you want with my body, but you can’t break me to thinking I’m yours to claim.

The Warlord pauses, then he chuckles that sinister, malicious laugh of his.

Doflamingo

I knew you’d say that.

He tosses something heavy on the floor. It clunks against the prison cell and slides, stopping directly in Sanji’s view. The blonde had to squint his eyes to try and work out the shape in the dark. When his sight adjusts, his eyes fill with horror and his jaw slacks open as he recognises a large chunk of Niji’s helmet before him.

Doflamingo licks his pointed tongue into his ear which sends chills throughout his body. He watches the blonde gape at the item, satisfied with his reaction.

Doflamingo

Let’s try this again…shall we?

The Warlord waves his hand and Sanji is fully released from all his binds. He drops to the floor on his fours. The blonde looks up to the piece of helmet once more, his mind running through different terrible scenarios of what may have happened.

Doflamingo

I will keep it nice and clear for you.

You do what I say, and I don’t kill your brother.

Sanji

N–no…no, you wouldn’t.

Doflamingo

Do you really want to test me?

Sanji freezes at that. After a moment of silence, his head dips down in defeat as his gaze turns to the side.

Doflamingo kneels directly behind him. He snakes his hands over the blonde's back then up to his neck to wrap his hands around it. While choking him, he pulls him up onto his own thigh to align dick against the rim of his ass.

Doflamingo

Now, let’s see how much you’ve learnt.

When I say, suck my dick, you say…?

The blonde’s lips quiver and his body trembles madly as fear slowly overtakes him. He shuts his eyes tight, knowing full well that the next words he will say is going to change his entire life forever. With a broken voice, he replies.

Sanji

Yes, Doffy.

Doflamingo inserts his cock into his tight entrance. Sanji grips onto the steel prison bars in front of him. He grits his teeth, trying to endure the pain as quietly as he can, not wanting to give the man any more satisfaction than he already has.

Doflamingo

When I say, jerk yourself off in front of the Levely, you say…?

The Warlord continues pushing himself inside, slowly but forcefully. With barely any preparation, Doflamingo’s monstrous size stretches his walls and tears his rim. He feels blood trickle down his violently shaking legs. Sanji’s eyes start welling up in tears from the pain. With a half sobbing voice, he replies.

Sanji

Y–yes…Doffy.

Doflamingo

Good boy.

Then he slams into him almost at full length. The blonde screams and leans his forehead against the prison bars.

Doflamingo

Now…I want you to think of your swordsman.

Sanji

Wh–what…?

Doflamingo thrusts inside him hard and deep once more, trying to forcefully fit his whole cock inside him, causing the blonde to cry out loud.

Doflamingo

You heard me.

I want you to think of his dick deep inside you.

Sanji

Doffy, please! I don’t want to think of him this way–

Doflamingo starts a brutal rhythm of slow but deep thrusts. Sanji screams at every push. He tried to hold back his voice at one point but was punished with a stinging spank, causing him to yelp out. The impact bruises his skin.

Doflamingo

Tell me what the swordsman does to you that you like the most.

Sanji’s tears start flowing. He sniffs once to try and compose himself, reminding himself that this is for his brother.

Doflamingo

Talk, Sanji.

Sanji

I like it when…AH–when he plays with my nipples….

Satisfied with his answer, Doflamingo increases his pace. The Warlord's large hands snake from his neck down to his front and plays with his pecs, teasing and pulling his nipples.

Sanji

Do–Doffy…you're too big. It hurts–it really hurts!!!

Doflamingo

Keep talking. You’ve only said one thing so far. How do you like taking him?

Sanji's breath hitches as he thinks of how the swordsman had fucked him during the last several weeks they had been together.

Sanji

I like it–ah–when I’m on a table and–he goes down on me–before we–AH–DOFFY, NO, PLEASE!!!

The Warlord leans forwards and drops Sanji down on the floor while keeping his legs wrapped around his own hips. He splays a hand over his back, pinning the blonde’s upper body onto the cold surface. The changed angle deepens the penetration in which Sanji begins sobbing out loud. A pool of blood forms onto the hardwood below them. Doflamingo’s pace becomes fast and relentless. 

Doflamingo

Give me more, my pet. Tell me more.

His own voice hitches as he nears his climax. His breath quickens as he fucks into the blonde senselessly.

Sanji feels himself peak as well. With every ounce and fibre of his being, he tries to resist.

Sanji

I–I…like it when I get to look into his eyes when he cums. When I call his name, I really want him to call mine too–

Doflamingo

Fuck, yes. When I cum in you, I want you to scream his name.

Sanji

P–Please–please, no–

Doflamingo tips forward slightly and releases his back to grip a bruising hold onto his hips, pushing hard into him with every thrust. His full length pounds painfully deep. When Sanji looks up, he realises that had been forced down on this position so he can see the part of Niji’s helmet that the Warlord had somehow taken into possession.

Doflamingo groans as he peaks.

Doflamingo

Shit… I'm gonna…

It all felt wrong but the blonde steels his heart.

Sanji

Hah–Z–Zoro… Zoro…

Zoro

Sanji, I'm gonna cum…ah–Sanji…

The swordsman’s raspy gentle voice echoes in the room. It grounds Sanji–comforts him–reassures him. He eases into the new sensation, craving his affection.

Sanji

Make a mess of me, baby…please. Say my name, say it.

Zoro

F-Fuck–Sanji… Sanji…

Sanji

Zoro…!

Doflamingo cries out the blonde's name as he pumps into him, spilling a generous load deep inside. The blonde follows shortly, producing barely anything prior to his earlier activities with–

Sanji's lips quiver in terror as he realises that his own mind had betrayed him. It had swapped the devil himself with an illusion of his precious Marimo. He can still feel the Warlord pumping into him.

Doflamingo pulls out with a slow guttural growl, causing the blonde to moan at the sudden loss of his length inside him. He feels the mix of the man's overflowing juices and his own blood spill down his thighs as the Warlord releases him from his hold.

Doflamingo 

Now…wasn't that fun?

Sanji scampers on the floor away from him. He sits up, leaning against the prison bars for support.

Sanji

You fucking asshole.

Doflamingo

My dear…

Doflamingo stands tall and drops his large feather coat on the ground. He strips off his shirt then drops his pants on the floor.

Doflamingo 

We're just getting started.

—

Voice

Mr. Prince-ya.

Hey…let's keep moving.

Sanji forces his eyes to open slowly as he feels the chilly wind on his face. He almost reels as he returns his attention back to reality. When he looks to his side, he sees Law next to him. Down the hill, the swordsman had kept his distance, his gaze focused at the misshapen land of what used to be the meadow.

Sanji

Law…

Law

Yes…?

Sanji

Are you sure you want to keep going?

Law narrows his eyes suspiciously at that.

Law

Is there something you want to tell me?

Sanji takes a long drag of his smoke, thinking of the right response. When he breathes out, he walks past him.

Sanji

No. I’m just checking.

Law

I see.

The swordsman eventually joins Law and they watch the blonde walk ahead of them. The doctor whispers quietly.

Law

He’d been broken.

Zoro

…I know.

Law

Get ready for anything.

Zoro clenches his fists. He holds onto Wado to stabilise himself but he allows anger to flow through his veins.

Zoro

I am.

[beryllineart]

The Cost of Mercy

This is my 100th post, I wanted to do something special and I liked this idea. It was not originally going to be this long. (20 pages! Wow!)

Because this took me half a month to create, I think I'll probably do a little "making of" post just to discuss how the end result differed from my original plans for this comic. I wish I could say I have a backlog of art to post, but I don't, and this comic might have given me burnout.

Ughhhh, my stupid brain has been telling me non-stop how "talentless" I am and how all of my drawings look terrible and that made making this comic an uphill battle. But I did it, and I hope that eventually I can feel proud of it. In the meantime, I think I need to do a couple of art tutorials so my brain actually acknowledges that I've been improving.

(Update: took a break between page 10 and 11 which improved my mental state, I still feel it's important to acknowledge that time of low self esteem and how I pushed through it. Also, I learned what a pen stabilizer was on page 12.)

I deserve a small ramble about this comic, right? Actually, it's pretty much as long as the comic itself, so you have been warned.

Yeah, so, this was inspired by my Susie vs. Lancer comic. In that, Susie does not admit her vulnerability to herself in time and that leads to her making a mistake she regrets. I wanted to show Asriel showing false vulnerability (my headcanon of him being an actor coming into play here) and creating a betrayal similar to Susie's, only this one was on purpose.

"But Beryll," I hear you say, "doesn't Asriel think Frisk is Chara? Why on earth would Asriel kill his best friend?" Well, besides the fact that a) Asriel is both a god of hyperdeath and a LV 9999 maniac b) he's already killed Frisk dozens of times in this battle alone and c) the image of black silhouettes on a red background with a glowing white sword is too cool to pass up, I have a little interaction I couldn't fit in the comic that should explain things.

That's my way of reconciling the whole "I thought you were Chara" thing when Chara and Frisk do not physically look alike at all. Remember, Flowey's genocide dialogue in the Ruins says, "I have a plan to become all powerful. Even more powerful than you and your stolen soul." Meaning that he knows this human physically is not Chara come back to life, but something in their mannerisms or something is so similar to Chara that Flowey convinces himself that they are. And in this comic, Asriel was so desperate for Chara to remember him that he takes Frisk's soul for himself, in the hopes that when they are reunited Chara will come back as well. (And he had to get up close and personal because of the soul's annoying tendency to crack before he can take it, also, glowing white sword. That's why I don't show the heart as broken on page 4, even though that would give the off the "dead" vibes more clearly.)

And now we come to the part where he says, "Hey, remember that time you wanted to kill all of those humans? Want to try again?" I think Flowey has been holding on to the whole "kill or be killed" mentality because he thinks it was his fault that he and Chara died. He fears being weak and being a coward, which is why he became a sadistic LV 9999 psychopath. Again, the whole acting headcanon thing that I rambled about in a different post.

Asriel's last memories of being with Chara are of feeling Chara's anger towards the humans, and when they finally reunite, he can't accept that, as a ghost, Chara learned to let go of that anger, having realized their own mistakes and realizing that it was their anger that got them into trouble. But Asriel has been holding on to that anger that wasn't even his own, all because he believes that it was his fault that they both died, since he fought against that anger.

So yeah, Asriel and Flowey's strongest emotions are actually guilt. Flowey's got a bit of survivor's guilt because he was brought back, albeit as a flower. But most of the guilt comes from convincing himself that it was his fault he and Chara died. That guilt causes him to reject all of the positive emotions that come his way and hold on to the hurt for so long that he hardly realizes it's there, causing that empty feeling that he thinks is a lack of emotions. But if he ever managed to actually let go of his guilt, he would realize that he actually can feel emotions. I have never believed that soulless = emotionless, given the way Flowey acts.

I just want to say, when Asriel resets in this comic, I'm definitely imagining a thing like when Majora's Mask Link plays the Song of Time, where all of the souls are leaving him like Link's items leave as he falls through the void, finally waking up as Flowey. Also, from a mechanics standpoint, Asriel has access to several save files when he's got Frisk's soul. He can reset to the moments after he got Frisk's soul, to when Frisk took away his control over resets, and to when he was first brought back as Flowey. He can't go further back than that because he can't go back to a time he didn't have that power. The only reason he can go back further than the moment he stole Frisk's soul is because of the enormous amounts of determination from all of the souls he has, both monster and human.

Okay, now I want to talk about the ending of the comic. All sweet and nice because Flowey's finally learning to let go of some of the things that made him evil and mean, right? I'm writing this ramble halfway through drawing the comic, so I'm assuming how that ends. (Also, if it's not clear, Frisk has forgotten their entire time in the Underground before. To them, this is the first time they've been down here.)

Well, that leads me to wonder, how will Flowey act since he has decided to be nice and stuff? Honestly, I don't know how the boss battles would go, but I think he and Frisk would develop a genuine friendship. He would hang around places he's pretty sure have save points, maybe give some tips and share a joke or two. Basically, imagine something like what he does for Clover in Undertale Yellow.

But, because we can't have happy Flowey, let's give him a new source of guilt. Now, Flowey lives in fear of Frisk finding out what he did, how he preyed on their sympathy just so he could kill them and steal their soul. He's been acting nice now, and enjoying their friendship, but he can't convince himself to fully commit to it (acting headcanon mention three) because he's afraid he might lose that friendship. Which is why, when Frisk chooses to hug and forgive Asriel, he refuses both, since he remembers what happened last time they hugged (on page 4) and he doesn't feel he deserves forgiveness when they don't even remember the truly horrible things he did. (Again, I'm not completely sure what the boss battles would have been like.) <Actually, I've taken a few days since writing this ramble and have figured it out but will discuss it in a future post.

But Frisk is a determined kid, and after they watch the sunset with everybody (and decide to live with Toriel of course) they go all the way back to the Ruins where this happens.

I hope you are noticing the parallels between Frisk and Chara that help defend Flowey/Asriel's confusion, because I worked hard on integrating that. They are very much alike.

So, that's the end of my ramble. I guess a long comic needs a long ramble, huh? Despite my brain's attempts to convince me otherwise, I actually really enjoyed making this comic. If you did read this whole thing, good for you! I'm not the best at explaining these things in an understandable manner, so I know it might have been hard to read.

Also, January 16th is/was Appreciate a Dragon Day. So here's Douglas, who guards my things while I do art. (I did 6 pages today, so Douglas got plenty of work in.)