#op this hurts

[carry-on-my-wayward-butt]

imagine getting twenty four hours of a fraction of a taste of what marginalized bloggers on this fucking site have been told "doesn't break TOS" for the past 15 years and deciding to openly threaten to just nuke the entire website lmfao

[toboldlymuppet]

gripped by fear

my piece for dark waters, an op angst zine

[smoft-demons]

MC needs some extra love

_______

You’re having an off day. Your demons have asked to make sure nothing’s actually wrong, just to be safe, but they’ve seen you like this a few times before. They understand. You’re just feeling down for no particular reason. Just sad and low energy. Extra tired.

Nothing happened, no one hurt you, nothing’s wrong… you just woke up in a low mood. Because it simply be like that sometimes. You just… need some extra affection today. No reason. It’s okay, they’re not judging. They’ll do what they can to cheer you up a little—they love you, you know. They want to see you smile at least once today.

_______

Lucifer:

When Lucifer notices your mood, he softens towards you a lot. He asks if anything is wrong first of course—they all do—but once he learns that there’s nothing he needs to correct and no one he needs to punish on your behalf, he just softens. He treats you more gently than usual.

He expects you’ll get fed up entertaining all his brothers, with their endless chaotic energy. So he invites you to hide out with him in his office. You are invited to just sit with him and read, or put on some music, or play a game on your DDD, or just rest… or whatever it is that will help.

He’ll even let you curl up in his lap and cuddle with him if that’s what you want. That cheers him up too.

He quietly redistributes the most taxing of your chores for today amongst the seven of them, to give you time to recharge.

You’ll find Levi and Beel doing the dishes for you when it’s your turn, or if you’re supposed to make dinner you’ll find that Mammon and Asmo have already ordered everyone takeout, and they’re already in the middle of setting it all out on the table. You won’t have to do a thing! If you were supposed to clean up a common space in the house, it’ll already be done by some of your assorted pact partners. You might even find sticky notes placed amongst your homework in Lucifer’s, Satan’s, and Belphie’s handwriting, suggesting edits and books titles to check for better information, and pointing out any parts in your work that are particularly well done.

When you check your DDD later, you see that Lucifer had instructed his brothers to take on what they can from you to make your life easier today. He was not planning on letting you know that, clearly—because he sent that in the brothers group chat. You only know because Karasu’s spy feature showed you.

His support is shown in all these soft, quiet details. Peaceful moments. Simple, but unmistakable reminders of how loved you are. It’s okay if you don’t smile today, even though he would like you too. He will verbally remind you that loves you anyway.

_______

Mammon:

Mammon’s first instinct, of course, is retail therapy. He offers to take you shopping. He’ll even pay for your stuff! He doesn’t mind if it makes you happy!

You appreciate that very much—and maybe you’d be happy to take him up on that if you were sad for a reason, but… you just have no spare energy. Just thinking about going out exhausts you more. You’d have to deal with looking at things! And forming opinions, and deciding on stuff to buy! There’s crowds and cashiers and bright lights and just… stuff outside! You can’t, you just can’t. You have no energy and you can’t.

The first time Mammon sees you like this, he’s confused. You don’t wanna go out? You don’t want any new stuff?? He sure hasn’t felt like that before!

He puts effort into figuring out what will actually help cheer you up instead. He’s considerate that way.

He tries taking you for a long drive. He tries taking tasks off your to-do list. He tries trailing after you all day to keep you company, holding your hand, chattering all day so you can’t hear your thoughts, staying quiet so you don’t get overstimulated. He cycles through every possible approach over the months, on every random day you happen to wake up like this.

It’s all greatly appreciated—and hey, some of his ideas work better than the rest! You feel loved and cared for regardless. It’s impossible to miss how much he adores you.

Eventually though, he strikes gold!

That particular day, he had been telling you a stupid joke every time he ran into you, in an attempt to make you smile. He gets a weak grin for his troubles just about halfway through the day. He beams at you triumphantly at that, impulsively scooping you up for a hug and repeatedly kissing the top of your head, and—aha! THERE’S the smile he was looking for!

From that point on, he knows what to do!

The next time you wake up in this mood, he takes the first opportunity to give you a playfully over the top show of affection. Over the course of the day, he keeps doing it!

He runs into you in the hallway between classes, he (gently) aggressively ruffles your hair as he passes you. He finds you aimlessly walking through the house, you immediately get snatched into his arms for a nice long squeeze. You sit with him as he’s scrolling through devilgram, he sets it aside for a moment to squish your cheeks between his hands and cover your forehead and nose with loud, playful kisses. You go up to him and request attention? You get kiss attacked, and he won’t let up until you crack a smile!

Your brain hurts, he says, echoing your very first explanation. It’s okay though, he says. He’ll kiss it better, he says.

He is MORE than happy to completely discard the tsundere façade to lean into this… over-the-top affectionate silliness, as long as it continues to make you laugh and smile like that.

He won’t admit it, but… this is more honest. This is much closer to who he is at heart than his usual behaviour is. Try as he might, he can’t hide how much he cares to save his life.

The realest aspect of Mammon is not the dumbass, not the money-grubber, not the uncaring cool guy that he pretends to be… no, it’s the goofy dork who loves you SO much that he’d go to any amount of effort to cheer you up.

He’s damn good at it too! HE was put in charge of your well-being for a reason! He’s the best big brother/guardian/friend/pact partner ever, and you’re his to take care of. He’s not letting HIS human go without smiling once for a whole day! You’re the sole member of his family he can openly dote on, and dammit, he will!

_______

Levi:

Levi’s go-to is, of course, distracting you with media. He tries games first, but if you’re too low-energy for that, he gets it. He tries anime, movies, shows, videos, manga, whatever you seem to respond best to.

You’ll notice a theme of letting others help, confiding in friends, opening up to people. There are repeated instances of characters asking for support from the rest of the cast and then being helped and taken care of. Lots of power of friendship stories, lots of hurt/comfort and “it’s rotten work” “not to me, not if it’s you” and team-as-family.

Maybe, just maaaybe, he’s trying to tell you something!

He relaxes when you explain that you just woke up like this, sometimes this just happens and it’s no one’s fault, there’s no problem, he doesn’t have to worry about you. He gets that! Sometimes he wakes up like that too. It does happen!

But… you’re his player two! He wants to worry about you!

So he takes care of you the way he wishes someone would take care of him when he gets like that. Gives you the extra love he knows first-hand that you need right now. He lets you choose the entertainment, he holds your hand, and mirrors what you do to self-soothe.

If you wanna lie on the floor and stare at his jellyfish decorations, he’s right next to you. If you wanna tell Henry how you’re feeling, he’s right there with you doing the same so you don’t have to feel self-conscious. If you’re stimming, he will too. That one makes him happy as well! If you wanna burrow into a pile of blankets and plushies like a hognose snake, he totally gets it and will also do that. He does that anyway sometimes, just because it’s comfy.

There’s not a hint of judgement from Levi. Ever. He gets it.

When you guys HAVE to leave his room, like for meals and such, he lends you his headphones. So you don’t get overstimulated from all the noise his brothers make. He never goes far from you, either. He always stays close enough that you can reach for him if you want to.

After dinner, when you’re tired and done with trying to act normal (not that even one of your demons is fooled), Levi brings you back to his room. He asks if you have any requests, anything you want to do, anything he can do to help you. If you know what you need, he’ll just do it. If you don’t, he’ll offer comfort in some form that makes sense to him. He understands that all you really need is some extra love when you’re like this, so he’s not at a loss. He gets it, he feels the same way sometimes, he can do that!

You end up curled up in his lap, hiding your face in his shoulder as he watches an anime you’ve both seen before at a low volume. Familiar and comforting. He’s happy to just sit and chill with you until you feel like you’ve recharged enough. He knows you’d do the same for him.

_______

Satan:

Satan’s instinct, once he learns what’s going on, is to bring you to the quiet spot outside where the stray cats he has befriended gather and then plonk the chillest one in your lap.

Cats are perfect fluffy little warm purring bundles of free therapy, after all. How could you not be recharged by this?

He’s not wrong, the cat definitely helps. It is in fact a perfect creature.

But… well, you don’t bother to spend the energy on saying so, but being outside isn’t really helping. You cringe at every loud noise. The wind ruffling your clothes every so often is annoying you. You’re sitting on concrete and it’s making you cold. The streetlights feel particularly aggressive to your eyes today. Very stabby. There are smells outside! No one wants that!

You love the cats, but Satan is giving them all his attention and you’re getting just a little bit jealous. You as well are giving the cat in your lap all your attention, and—as stupid as you feel about it—you’re getting a little bit jealous about that too. You want attention too! All the cat has to do is be cute and soft and it can have all the petting and cuddling it wants! As it deserves, yes, but… don’t you as well, though..?

You try to push that feeling away and just pet the cat. The cat did nothing wrong, you still love it, you’re supposed to be feeling MORE recharged from this! Not… whatever it is you do feel. At the end of the day you still enjoy petting the cat and you don’t want it to leave. That’s still true and that’s what matters, you tell yourself.

Eventually the cat decides it’s had enough petting for now, and gets up. Satan checks on you, fully expecting you to be thoroughly cheered up! Instead he sees you staring forlornly at your hands, mostly zoned out. Confused, he asks if you’re okay.

You nod once, giving him a hollow smile.

Now he’s concerned. He takes a minute to finish petting the cats surrounding him—noting the hint of jealousy in your eyes as you observe him—then comes to sit on the concrete stair next to you.

He gently points out that he knows you well enough to detect a lie. Especially an unconvincing lie like that. You give a noncommittal hum in reply. That’s all you have the energy for.

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, letting you slump against his side. Your head leans against his shoulder. His other arm comes up to stroke your head for a moment, then drops down again to take your hand.

In a small, tired voice, you thank him. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze in reply.

Eventually he adjusts you so he can hold you more comfortably. Every so often he kisses the top of your head, or rubs your shoulder, or squeezes your hand, or says something quietly to you. Pointing out a interesting leaf shape, telling you something inconsequential about his day, prompting you to look when one of the cats does something cute, reminding you that he loves you and it’s okay to feel like this. That he enjoys your company no matter what mood you’re in.

This helps a lot more. Eventually you have enough energy to reply to him in full sentences! He’s visibly relieved at that. Still, he continues to hold you.

It’s after this point that a different cat comes up to you. It sniffs your shoelace then rubs itself against your leg. It flops over your shoe, stretching adorably with its little paws reaching up. It looks up at you all wide-eyed and cute, and finally you give a short puff of a laugh. Satan feels it more than hears it, but still!! He feels successful!

You pet this cat as it stands up and sniffs at your free hand. You look at it with a little smile. There’s a bit more soul in this smile, to Satan’s relief.

Later, as the two of you are leaving, he slips the cat a treat and whispers a thank you to it. Then he takes your hand again and leads you back home.

(He makes a mental note to himself for next time: pet the sad human first!! Then go see the cats!)

_______

Asmo:

Asmo notices that you’re having one of those days today, and he rushes to spoil you. Like Mammon, his first instinct is to take you shopping—but specifically for clothes and makeup and skincare products. Stuff that would cheer him up.

But you’re tired, and he understands that. It’s okay, he still knows what to do!

Asmo brings you into his room. You curl up in a sad, tired lump on his bed. He lets you chill there while he gathers up the stuff he wants.

He returns to you with his arms full of stuff! Nail polish, face masks, a hairbrush, moisturizer and hair oil, etc etc. Stuff for taking care of you.

He makes a point of only doing stuff that doesn’t sting at all. No plucking eyebrows or messing with your cuticles or anything like that. Just the stuff that feels nice.

Asmo quietly chatters about people he knows and stuff he’s used and whatever the latest gossip he’s heard is. Not even really to inform you this time, because he knows you’re probably not gonna remember much when you’re like this, but more to provide you with a constant, grounding backdrop of his familiar voice.

He speaks softly to you as he wipes your face with cleanser and then proceeds with his skincare process. He gently brushes your hair, spending twice as long as necessary just because it feels nice. He insists you don’t bother to move as he sits next to you and paints your nails.

At some point he runs out of stuff to do, so he ends up just brushing over your face with a clean makeup brush. No product on it at all, he’s just doing it to make you relax, because it’s soft and it feels nice. It’s meditative, honestly. For both of you.

He spends a good long while doing that.

He finishes up and lies down next to you. He pulls you into a cuddle. You offer to return the favour for him. Do his skincare and hair and nails and stuff for him, spoil him back—because he deserves the best.

For the first time ever, he declines. He shushes you and holds you tighter. This is the only situation in which he would ever refuse that!

He says you’re more than welcome to return the favour tomorrow if you like, but for now he just wants you to rest. He did all that for you to get you in this relaxed state you’re in right now, don’t get up and un-relax yourself so fast! Keep your brain turned off! It’s good for you sometimes!

… yes, Asmo is surprised by his own selflessness too—more surprised than you are by now, knowing him. He’s always been selfless for your sake since you first became his friend. It still surprises him though.

_______

Beel:

Beel is your best guy for validation. For quiet, thoughtful, unwavering support. He’s a lot more insightful than he’s often given credit for. He’s one of the best people in this family in terms of emotional intelligence, no question about it.

He knows just what to do. He observes you as the day goes on, taking the first opportunity to pull you aside and check on you without any others around. Just to make absolutely sure there’s nothing else going on.

His voice is soft, his hands are gentle, and he puts effort into understanding you. You’re family, he loves you so much! So of course he would.

He’ll share his food with you of course—both because he wants you to know that he loves you that much, and because he’s trying to remove a task from your to-do list. You don’t have to think about getting food and preparing it and any of that if he just. Does it for you. You can spend your very limited energy elsewhere.

He’ll take you with him on his routine walk, just so you can have a change of scenery and an opportunity to chat uninterrupted.

He listens to you complain about being outside with his characteristic placid sympathy—a combination that would be a bit contradictory if it came from anyone else, but somehow makes perfect sense for Beel. It’s soothing. Reassuring, somehow. He helps a lot, just by being himself.

When you inevitably run out of energy—much quicker than you usually do, but you expected that—he offers to carry you. Or rather, he automatically goes to do it on muscle memory, because that’s just what he does with tired loved ones (Belphie usually). He catches himself and realizes he should ask first in this case. Just to make sure. He’s considerate like that.

You are very tired… and you want contact. So of course you accept the offer. How could you refuse when he offers so earnestly?

He walks in measured, consistent steps as he carries you. The sway of his movement is deliberately relaxing. He’s trying to lull you into a meditative haze, or maybe put you to sleep. Either is good, he thinks.

The warmth of him makes the… everything about being outside when you’re feeling this way a lot more tolerable. The sounds of his footsteps, his breaths, his heartbeat… all of that drowns out the background noise just enough. Your face is pressed into his jacket, so the streetlights don’t stab your eyes and all the distressingly inconsistent outside smells are entirely covered by the spices-aromatics-soap scent of Beel. It’s a smell you know very well, and the familiarity of it is grounding.

Everything about him is grounding, really. He really did know exactly what to do.

At the end of the day… it’s okay if you don’t smile. He would like you to, of course, but he will meet you where you’re at. Anyway, it’s more important to him that you feel like it’s safe to show however it is you actually feel around him. He understands the amount of trust that takes, and he’s honoured by it. Nothing is more important to him than that trust.

So, you don’t have to smile. It’s okay.

Don’t be strong, he tells you. There’s no need, for now. Just let him. Rest, lean on his strength—he’s got more than enough for both of you. He’s got you. He’s not going anywhere.

_______

Belphie:

Oh, you’re tired? A bit sad, a bit grouchy? Damn. Looks like even HE has more energy than you today. That’s not something he sees often! Well, that’s fine. He knows what to do.

It’s straight to baby jail with you!

In his arms, that is. In bed, surrounded by his best pillows, covered by the least warm heavy blanket he has, so you won’t overheat but will still feel nice and covered.

He positions you so you’re facing each other, with your head tucked under his chin. So you have room to comfortably breathe and talk, but your face is still as covered as possible so you won’t be bothered by any lights.

Emotional intelligence may not be Belphie’s strong suit, but he is observant and he understands exhaustion. This may not exactly be the usual kind of exhaustion, but still! There’s no demon better equipped to understand what’s going on with you right now, just by nature.

He’s totally fine with cuddling you in silence if you don’t feel like talking. That really works for him, actually, because it allows him to nap.

Not that he doesn’t WANT to listen to you. He does. He’d be happy to. But he gets it if you don’t wanna bother with that. It’s okay.

He will, however, delay taking a nap until you doze off first. He just wants to make sure you’re okay. He’s not about to just fall asleep and abandon you if you still need attention.

If you’re not falling asleep very fast, he will help. Not with magic, surprisingly. He’s being more… gentle, he supposes, than that in this situation.

He talks quietly about nothing important. The soft drone of his voice, kept consistent and deliberately soporific, melts into your brain like butter, slowing it way down. Blocking everything else out. Gradually turning it off. One hand rubs your back slowly, almost as if to match the rhythm of his voice.

It’s so relaxing. You feel like you could stay like this forever and never want to move, you’re that comfortable.

Belphie knows what he’s doing.

It works really well! He makes sure you feel loved and cared for, then makes sure you get some extra rest. Mental and physical recharging.

Of course, you wake up feeling a lot better. Maybe not entirely back to your normal self yet, but definitely better. How could you not?

You’re a lot less tired after you’ve slept, and less sad too… so he’s succeeded—but you’re still not smiling!

He can fix that, right?

He lets you get up and stretch first, of course. He does the same. Before you leave the room though, he wraps you up in another hug.

He pulls back to examine your face after a minute or two.

Hmm… you look comfy, but still no smile! He can’t have that! So he hugs you tightly again, but this time his fingers start to lightly poke and brush over your sides. He’s trying to force you to smile by tickling you. He’s not gonna do too much, he’s not trying to overwhelm you. He stops as soon as you crack a smile.

There we go, he says as he gives you one last gentle squeeze. That was all he wanted, he tells you.

He doesn’t let go of you for long, over the rest of the day. Always holding your hand, giving you random hugs, draping himself over your shoulders—but without making you take all his weight for once, because he knows you’re still kinda tired. Enough of it to be soothing, but no more. Just so you don’t get lonely. He doesn’t want you to get all sad again.

If you do get sad again though, it’s okay. He will squish the sadness out of you all over again, as many times as you need. He doesn’t mind.

_______

[sibmakesart]

part 1

[violetaquadelight]

Guilt

Under starlit skies,

Orion’s gaze pierces deep,

Haunted by lost time,

Guilt wraps around my spark tight—

Your light, a ghost that lingers near.

[clare-875]

Doubt (Zoro x Reader)

_____ Pairing: Zoro x Reader Summary: An offhanded comment makes you insecure, but Zoro is there to reassure you in his own way. Warnings: Angst to Fluff, Ussop's unintentionally mean in the beginning? Notes: The above image does NOT belong to me, Female Reader [One Piece Masterlist] ______

It was a passing comment; one you knew you shouldn't look into, one that meant no harm. But the words hit you harder than you thought it would. You had been talking rapidly about your adventures from the last island you and your crew had visited. There, you had all fought enemies, saved new friends and eaten together; the same old. Luffy, Chopper and Usopp had been listening eagerly matching your grin with keen interest in your tale as the crew had once again been split up on your journey. You spoke of the obscure things you saw on your side of the adventure, the enemies you faced and how they compared to those your crew had fought, the new fighting methods you had mastered, the people you met; everything. You hear Luffy's laugh brimmed with light humour as Chopper's eyes gleamed when you spoke of how you dealt the finishing blow on your opponent. You probably should've noticed how long you had been talking and exclaiming but you were lost in your glee, so much so that you didn't realise until Usopp spoke out with a teasing grin.

"Damn [y/n], you can sure talk a lot." You stop your story short at his teasing words meeting his mischievous gaze with a roll of your eyes. "And what's that supposed to mean?" Chopper nods eyes determinedly looking to Usopp as Luffy starts to doze off once his initial interest has passed. "Yeah, I wanna hear [y/n] tell their story!" Chopper exclaims from beside you as you smile at his excited and adorable form. Usopp sweatdrops at the sudden ridicule aimed at him and tries to backtrack on his words, only to make things worse. "I didn't mean anything bad about it- I just mean like you're so talkative and outspoken- and you know Zoro's-" Your eyes turn to him in surprise as he mentions your boyfriend. "Zoro?" You ask as you raise your brow. What has he got to do with this? "Yeah well, Zoro's so reserved and nonchalant, I just guess it surprised me that you got together- I mean, Zoro doesn't seem like one to tolerate people that- I mean, that came out wrong-" You can't help but frown at his words as he continues to ramble and you listen to what he implies. Was that really what Usopp thought; was it what the crew thought? That you were "too much", that Zoro was just tolerating you?

"I just meant-" Usopp starts to panic now as he sees the fall of your features at his misplaced words, making it seem that you were a burden, but Sanji's voice rings through to cut him off before he can try to redeem himself. "[y/n]-san~ dinner's ready!" You turn to see the love-lost cook burst out from within the kitchen now looking down to you from where you sat on the deck of the ship. His facade quickly falls however as his eyes sharpen towards the men that surround you. "Oi, Usopp, Chopper, wake Luffy and hurry or there'll be none for you!" You turn to your friends as Sanji whizzes away in search of the other female members of the crew. You give Chopper and Usopp a smile despite them seeing how it didn't gleam as it usually did. "Come on, let's go. Hey Luffy!" You then nudge your Captain purposefully as he sits up in confusion. "[y-y/n]?" You sigh at his drowsy state but go towards the kitchen. "Dinner!" You say, and the three all promptly follow to the dining room.

When you sit down at the dining table, you would have thought you'd forget the brief inclinations of Usopp's words just moments earlier, but you didn't. It suddenly made you self-conscious, made you think so deeply into the conversation you had, despite you knowing better; it was just Usopp taking things too far as usual. But then it made you think about all the interactions you had with your boyfriend. You remember all the instances you would speak animatedly about your day, talking while he trained or lay around the ship. Was it annoying to him? You think of his reaction, he didn't seem too fazed when you did. But he never seemed invested either, merely a nod of his head or an odd grunt of acknowledgement. Then, your thoughts go deeper. You think of the instances you would seek him out, you think of every time you showered him with affection behind closed doors, thought of every brush of your hand against his and every move you made.

Was it too much? Was I too much?

Tolerating; is that the word you would use to describe Zoro's demeanour to you? But the more you thought the more you saw how you were the one seeking him out the most, the one talking the most, the one giving affection the most. And the more you thought the more you realised you never took the time to see if Zoro actually enjoyed it; your constant want to be in his presence. You knew you were being stupid. You knew that there were more than enough ways that Zoro showed his love to you in return. You would hear his murmured words, notice small actions, would see affection deep within his eyes. After all, Zoro was nothing if not confident; he would never agree to a relationship unless he truly wanted it; unless he truly adored you. Yet you let the small comments churn within you, buried insecurity rising as you notice your differences. You feel dread next. He wouldn't leave you for it, would he?

You are so lost in your thoughts you don't notice said man walking into the dining room, skin slick with the efforts of his afternoon workout as he makes a beeline for his spot; his spot next to you. Zoro sees you absentmindedly sitting in your seat and nudges you causing you to realise that he is now present. You smile at him then, "Hey Zoro," you grin but Zoro sees slight hesitance in your eyes and your lack of prying words or subtle affection. He nods but decides not to question it as Sanji then puts out the dinner for everyone to share and soon everyone around you is lost to the prospect of food. As you go for your share watching as crew members devour Sanji's new creation you find yourself timid as you look around you. Your friends are shouting and talking and eating joyously, and though you would often be the centre of the overly animated show of dinner, you suddenly feel so drained from your thoughts; almost sad. There is a gnawing feeling of vulnerability in your chest pulled open by the words shared earlier, but you can't help but feel like you're overreacting.

"Oi, are you okay?" You turn in surprise at Zoro's passive words as he goes for another cup of sake sharp eye trained on you. He had noticed how you hadn't filled the air with your vibrant words, talking about all that had happened in the short time you had left him to his workout. He noticed how you, usually up and shouting with the crew as they did now, sat rooted to your spot just eating. He noticed how your eyes didn't shine with the usual mirth they usually did. Sure, he wasn't one to be as talkative as you, or openly share his affections as you did, but it was one of his favourite things about you. Being able to just listen to your joyous voice, feel your love in so many ways, and have you by his side; the one he would protect till the end of time. You, surprised to see that he had actually taken the liberty to notice feel your heart constrict at his care but shake your head nonetheless. "I'm fine."

Only, maybe you weren't.

When evening came, you merely kissed the corner of his face before turning to your side of the bed. No long nightly rants, no excitable or adoring words, no cuddling like you usually begged. Zoro shook off his concern however, thinking you just needed a moment like he sometimes did. That night he slept horribly without you in his arms. When morning came and you awoke to his absence as he left for his early morning workout, you didn't seek him out as you usually did. That morning, Zoro found it strange when you didn't grace him with your lively presence as you usually did. The teasing words as you watched him work, the abundance of plans you shared for the day, your sweet pout as you asked for his attention. Yes, he would merely blush fiercely or nod passively or roll his eyes but the chime of your laughter as he did made his heart warm. The lack of you left the empty spot in the crow's nest cold where you usually sat. These happenings became the entire day, which followed into the week, and despite Zoro putting off his concern earlier, now he was confused and annoyed.

Had he done something wrong?

On your end, you were merely trying your best. You tried to limit your conversations with him, the touch of your hand to his, the engulfing of his form, the kissing of his face. And it honestly hurt. You felt so urgently the need to be by his side, you craved him and yet each time you tried to push away your insecurity, it ate up at you and you hesitated. Was I too much? Would he be annoyed? Would he leave? Was I a burden? So, you didn't. For a week you tried, but you could feel yourself breaking. Currently, you were sitting at the dining room table as Sanji was prepping for the day's lunch. You let out a deep sigh full of sadness, and Sanji, with that woman-radar of his, turned at your blatant dismay. Many of the in-tune members of the crew had noticed the lack of vibrancy in your figure and the much more irritable form of Zoro. "What's wrong [y/n]-san?" You look up to see the blond-haired man looking at you with an unusual seriousness in his eyes; concern. You have seen that a lot this week.

"Nothing's wrong Sanji," you say with a tired smile. But Sanji frowns at you, seeing clearly through your words. "It's that damn Marimo isn't it?" You look up surprised to see that Sanji now has raging anger consuming him. There is literally fire in his eyes as he turns to the door readying to go beat up your boyfriend. "Damn, moss-head thinks he can take poor [y/n]-san's heart away from me and then break it so carelessly, I'll show him what-" You quickly get up stopping Sanji and hoping to prevent a seemingly unlawful murder. "Wait! Sanji it's not him!" Sanji sobers quickly at the gentle touch of your hand on his shoulder holding him back as he turns to you in surprise. He then frowns and surprises you when he looks at you with confusion, "Then what-" He is quickly cut off by the slam of the door as an angry-looking swordsman quickly enters the fray. His sharp eyes travel from your hand to where it still clutched Sanji's shoulder, then to your frozen gaze and then to Sanji's.

"Damn cook! Get your filthy hands off my girlfriend!" Sanji's eyes blaze instantly at that and before you know it the two are fighting like deranged idiots. You observe the suddenly escalated scene in surprise hearing insults thrown left to right and the flurry of limbs as they try to take a chunk out of each other. You then, laugh. It fills you slightly and then it hits you fully. How much you missed Zoro, how much you missed the normalcy even if it was just watching two overpowered idiots fight as they usually did. Zoro turns at the melodic sound of your laughter pausing in his fight as Sanji's eyes turn to hearts at the sound. It had been so long since he heard it; since he saw you as you usually were. A warm hand encapsulates your arm and you look up to see that it is Zoro, now taking you from the kitchen in silence much to the dismay of Sanji.

When the two of you reach your shared room, he turns to you, form tense once again as he forces his words to you. "Okay [y/n], what's actually wrong? You've been avoiding me all week. You haven't come once to the crow's nest. You haven't done the usual shit you do.-" You look up at your boyfriend's unusually frustrated form listening off the things you haven't done that week and you feel your heart brim at his concern. You feel stupid. "I'm sorry." You cut him off as he turns to you, and you look up to him hesitantly. "I- I just thought you know, it might've been annoying to you?" You advert your eyes when his eyebrows raise in surprise. "I'm just so used to sharing everything, and I sometimes get carried away, I just thought- what if-?" You stop yourself as a familiar tugging your heart weighs you down. You hear a deep sigh. "[y/n], is this what this week has been all about?" You nod as you trace the floor with your eyes. "I just didn't want you to leave me."

You feel it then, the strong embrace of your boyfriend's arms, toned with his training and warm against your form. He sighs once again at your words as he rolls his eyes despite you not seeing. "You're an idiot you know that?" You laugh slightly against his chest as you relish the feeling of him after what felt like so long. Zoro doesn't know how to comfort; it was out of his capabilities but you felt it within his arms. His reassurance, his love and the fact that he had missed you too. Suddenly you are overcome with emotion at the fact that you let such small insecurity cause you to waste so much time with the man you adored. "M'sorry, it's just Usopp was saying and I-" Zoro tenses at your words releasing you as he stares into the depths of your eyes. "Usopp?" You freeze then, realising your mistake as you see his signature murderous aura extend from his form. "W-wait Zoro." But he has flown through the door quicker than you can force him to stay and you hear the darkly uttered words at the crew's sniper.

"Usopp, so this was all your fault huh?"

"W-wait [y/n]- tell him I didn't mean it, I'm sorry-"

You watch as he tries to evade your boyfriend's wrath but he merely sees the reason you have been sulking all week; why he had suffered the whole week. You just laugh at the comical sight, free of your doubt and reminded that despite your differences the both of you would be just fine.

[grandwretch]

i so badly want one of those fic examinations of steve's relationship with joyce and hopper but solely through eddie's pov like hear me out

steve and eddie chat a lot in the upside down (and later in the hospital, when they learn hop is alive). steve has taken charge of filling eddie in on the rest of their of-age crew without the kids butting in. he never mentions his own parents, but he talks about the rest of the party's a lot, especially joyce and hopper. eddie knows what it's like to desperately want someone to be your parent and trying to hide it from his own childhood, when he would try to be cool about wayne dropping him off at his dad's house. steve obviously adores joyce and hopper, thinks the world of them and legitimately looks up to them.

eddie isn't sure what he expects from a cop who came back to life and the world's most determined housewife, but he's excited to meet them as someone steve loves.

cue eddie's horror when he realizes that neither of them really feel much for steve rather than annoyance and vague distrust. that joyce trusts will with eddie, an accused murderer, in a heartbeat and still hesitates to leave him with steve. that hopper brushes off every ounce of steve's hero worship and joy.

he tries to broach the topic with steve, gently, and is heartbroken when steve genuinely has no idea what he's talking about. and not because he's oblivious, but because steve thinks that's what he deserves. he thinks that's the parental love that someone who was an asshole in high school needs, because that's what would make him a good person. he needs people to call him out constantly, obviously, because why else would they keep doing it? why would nancy? at least they're here. at least they're not ignoring him. at least they're not forcing him into a box. they just want him to be better.

like, this is the man who thanked a girl for calling him bullshit and telling him she never loved him. he doesn't Know that's not how you're supposed to handle things. no one ever taught him that.

and now eddie's gotta figure out how he can teach steve how to be loved the right way without outing himself and his huge crush on his love-starved dork of a friend.

[zorosdimples]

“Now isn’t the time, Zo.” 

You sidestep him in the cramped galley, ignoring how the bare skin of his arm burns you as it brushes against your shoulder. You tune out the noisy chatter and the clinking dishes, biting down on your lip as hard as you can, and dart to the exit.

When the cool, salty air hits your face, you gulp down a lungful, exhaling raggedly as the tears finally flow. The stars—twinkling, incandescent—offer you no comfort in their silence. And it feels like the moon mocks you from her lofty seat in the sable sky. The waves lazily slosh against the hull, and for a moment, it’s peaceful. But the air is disturbed as soon as Zoro bursts outside. 

“The hell’s this all about?” he demands with a sweep of his arms, half-shouting. 

Tactless as ever, you think to yourself.

For a split second, you consider jumping overboard; seeking silence and solace in the bottomless sea can’t be that bad, right? But you know the swordsman would jump in and save you without hesitation—then proceed to give you even more grief than he already has.

So instead, you snap.

“Can you not be dense for—fuck, I don’t know!—five fucking seconds?” You don’t bother turning around, eyes fixed on the boundless horizon.  

Your words themselves are harsh, but they don’t bother Zoro. What concerns him is the syrupy thickness of your voice, the way your throat hitches and sticks when you speak. He’s beside you in three strides, coaxing you to face him with a balmy, scarred touch. His palms span your shoulders and warm your spirit, but you don’t—you can’t—meet his silvery stare. 

“Hey, look at me,” he murmurs, voice gravel. A dry, calloused thumb nudges your chin upward, your watery gaze meeting your lover’s concerned face. “What’s goin’ on? Whatever it is, ’s gonna be all right.”

Shaking your head before he finishes speaking, a fresh sob bubbles past your lips, wet and desperate. You collapse into his chest the moment his tawny arms wind around your waist, anchoring you together. You weep to the tune of his steady heartbeat and the slow lap of the sea.

The heaviness in your heart feels insurmountable—a tidal wave so strong it will drown you. Zoro rests his chin atop your head and rubs soothing patterns on your back. “I’m always here,” he whispers into your hair. “As long as you want me to be.”

I do, you want to say. I want you to be. But you don’t have to. Because the way your nails dig deeper into his flesh, the way your sorrow falls harder and dampens the fabric of his shirt—he knows.

So he holds you now and will continue to do so forever—or, at the very least, for as long as you’ll have him.

[hayaomiyazaki]

Ben Whishaw and Rory Fleck Byrne THIS IS GOING TO HURT — 2022

[nanachiita]

Silence. 💔

[spacer-case]

visiting sphinx

(no one asked but my headcanon for marco deflecting vulnerable conversations comes from what he said after izou saved him in wano...my guy ran out of steam and basically lay there musing and waiting to just die but when he gets called out for it hes like "heheh i was waiting for u to save me~"?!?!? hello?!?!? sir???????)

[flowercrowngods]

this wouldn't leave me alone, so have my thoughts on a steve-centric "who did this to you?" steddie concept inspired by @imfinereallyy (i hope this is okay, even though it's uhhh nothing like what you mentioned)

When Eddie gets to the boathouse, he immediately notices that something is off. The door is cracked open but he can’t hear anyone talking or moving stuff around. No one ever comes here — it’s been his hideout spot since the ripe age of thirteen when he’d had hist first real fight with Wayne. 

No one comes here. But now the door is cracked open and Eddie stares at it for a good minute as though that would make it come to life and tell him who’s inside so he won’t have to look and deal with whoever decided to steal his spot. He’s really not in the mood to start any shit today, or to be called all sorts of names — most of which aren’t even half as true as people fear. 

His first instinct is to leave, find somewhere else to hide from this miserable world today, when he hears it. The sound of sniffling, followed by wet, heavy breaths. 

Oh. It sounds like someone’s crying. In his spot.

Maybe it’s some girl who got her heart broken, some dude who lost the last bit of faith in his family, or some kid who— 

Ah, fuck it, he’ll just come back later. Not his problem. Definitely not his problem. And it’s definitely not guilt or worry that gnaw at him as he turns on his heel to leave. 

But then there’s a groan. A pained groan. Someone’s in pain, and crying in his spot, and Eddie really shouldn’t make that his problem. He shouldn't. Nopbody cares when he's crying and in pain either! But fuck if he won’t be thinking about it for the rest of his life if he turns his back on whoever it is. Maybe they need help. 

They most certainly sound like they do.

With a heavy sigh, Eddie is already at the door before he can think about it too much. 

“Hello?” he asks the darkness, and immediately the sniffling stops. 

Silence falls, but only for a moment before whoever it is has to draw shaky, wheezing breaths that make Eddie swear under his breath. 

“Listen, I know you’re here.” He’s taking slow, deliberate steps, his eyes roaming he mess of boats, tools and tarp he knows so well.  “And I’m not trying to start anything. Tell me to go away and I will. But I have a first aid kit in my car and, uh, you sound like maybe you need it.” 

There’s no response, but the wheezing breaths turn into whimpers with every second that whoever it is tries very hard not to make any noise, and Eddie’s heart starts to race in his chest. He can feel worry and panic starting to rise. And overshadowing it is an overwhelming sense of dread.

What the fuck is happening? 

He tries to be careful but his mind is racing and his limbs are starting to feel like lead. His wary steps become heavy and clumsy, and then he accidentally boots something that makes a terrible, horrible noise, breaking the eerie silence. Eddie cringes and is about to apologise, when finally there is movement in his peripheral vision. 

And then he sees him. There, hidden in the shadows between a boat and the far wall, his face breaten and bloodied, his eye swelling around a nasty bruise. Wait, do bruises bleed? Should they look black like that? Is it a cut? Something worse?

Even after years of constant bullying and goading in middle school and high school, he has never actually seen someone look like this. With their face completely smashed in. It makes him freeze for a horrible, horrible moment before he saps out of it.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, hurrying over as fast as he can, stumbling over tools and tarp as he does. Something falls to the floor with a loud clunk and it makes the boy flinch again. Eddie curses. “Sorry, shit, sorry!” 

He makes it to the boat rather quickly, crouching down in front of the boy a few feet away so as not to spook him, not to crowd him. And then his heart only plummets further, because he knows this one. 

Steve Harrington. The boy who’s come to school with many a black eye over the past two years — but never this bad. The boy who’s been looking like the world might be about to end each time he rounded a corner in school; ever since things started happening around Hawkins. Since the Holland girl died and the Byers boy disappeared. 

It fascinated Eddie, the way Steve fell from grace. The way he turned quiet, and showed up with healing bruises. There are stories woven around it, because teenagers like to gossip and word spreads fast, and Eddie always listened with rapt attention as Harrington turned into a bit of a myth. A legend. A ghost story.

But fascination is not what he feels right now, seeing Steve like this.

His eyes are unfocused and Eddie knows about the danger of head injuries. He knows about the consequences of blood loss, he knows that Steve will be warm to the touch even though he’s shivering already, and… Fuck!

“Shit, Steve,” he rasps, not daring to speak louder lest he spooks the boy. Of all the reasons he’s had to be afraid of talking to Steve Harrington, this one might be the cruellest. "I..."

He takes in his wounds, his bruised and scraped knuckles where his hands are wrapped around the knees he’s pulled to his chest, and his split lip that he keeps biting. 

Eddie swallows before he asks, “Who did this to you?” 

But Steve just shakes his head clumsily. Sniffles again, and then his breath comes in wet heaves, and Eddie worries for a moment that he’s going to throw up now. 

He doesn’t. 

Steve’s just staring. Eddie isn’t even entirely sure he can see him, or maybe he did and then forgot, or maybe he’s fading. Eddie should do something, he should get help, he should— 

“Steve,” he says, and dares to touch him when he doesn’t react. 

A light touch to the knee shouldn’t make anyone flinch like that, but Steve’s whole body jumps, and then the shivers and the wheezing get worse. It almost sounds like a whimper, and Eddie curses again. Feels like crying now, scared and helpless as he is.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay, I— Jesus, okay.” He swallows hard, trying to think, willing for the panic to subside and a plan to form. “You’re okay. I... I’m gonna, I’m gonna grab the first aid kit. I have it in my car. It’s not, it’s not far. And a blanket. So you'll be warm again. I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move, don’t…" He gestures wildly, caught between reaching out and pulling away. "Don’t move.” 

Eddie takes a wavering breath and moves to stand on numb, tingly legs, nearly missing Steve’s, “Can’t.” It’s barely more than a whisper, hardly even a wheeze. It’s like he’s just breathing out words because everything else is too much effort. 

Right. Right. This is messed up and Eddie’s panicking, but Steve will be okay. Because things like that don’t happen, not here, not today, and not to Steve Harrington. 

Except this is Hawkins. Where Will Byers disappeared and Barb Holland died and many people are missing and weird shit just ends up happening everywhere even though they’re all just kids. They’re just kids. And Steve’s not even conscious enough to realise that right now. 

Eddie all but runs outside, sprinting to his van with a speed that would make the coach swallow his stupid whistle if gym class only mattered right now. It doesn't. Nothing matters, because Steve is... He's hurt. And there's no one else around to help.

Grabbing the first aid kit, a bottle of water and a thick blanket he always keeps spread out in the back of his van, he makes it back to the boathouse in no time. 

He wasn’t even gone for three minutes, but still he sighs in relief when Steve is still awake. He even looks up. Blinks. Frowns in what can only be confusion and makes Eddie's heart fall.

“Munson?” 

Fuck, that’s not a good sign. That’s messed up, it’s fucked up, it’s— Focus, Eddie! 

“The one and only,” he says, voice shaky and his smile not fooling anyone. He wraps the blanket around Steve, whose eyes are unfocused again, though he tries so hard to blink it away. 

Brave boy, stupid boy. Head trauma isn’t blinked away. Though Eddie is inclined to let him try. Maybe he’ll find a way. 

“Here.” He hands the bottle over to Steve, who grabs it with clumsy hands. He can hold it, but he can’t get it open — again, not a good sign. 

Eddie opens it for him, then turns to his first aid kit. It seemed like a great idea five minutes ago, but he’s petrified now. It’s too dark in here and he can’t really see the wounds, he doesn’t know what to use, what’s in there, he doesn’t, he can’t, he— 

The bottle, empty now, is handed back to him, bumping into his hand, tearing him away from his spiralling thoughts. 

“Thanks,” Harrington breathes, and there’s a small smile visible in the darkness. Eddie just nods and takes it with hands that are still shaking.

“I wanna help you,” he says, like it isn’t obvious. “But I don’t know how. You gotta tell me where it hurts, Steve.” 

A beat. “Everywhere.” 

Eddie sags, falling back to sit opposite Steve, frantically rubbing at his face. “Shit.” 

“Yeah.” Steve chuckles, but it sounds so wet with tears and pain, Eddie never wants to hear it again. “Thought I could do it.” 

He’s talking. That’s a good thing, right? He can’t pass out as long as he’s talking. That’s how that works, isn’t it? So, Eddie asks, “Do what?” 

“Doctors told me,” Steve sighs, his voice slow and slurring. “Told me to... to stay out of fights. Stay out of them. Said I had to make sure my head won’t—“ 

He makes a motion with his fist, and Eddie thinks he’s simulating a punch, disoriented as it is. It makes his heart fall. Is that what happened? Someone beat Steve to a pulp? Again? Just like that?

Eddie is so stuck on that thought, trying to piece together the puzzle, that he almost misses Steve’s mumbled speech. 

“Y’know, th— Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.” He says it to matter-of-factly that Eddie’s heart stops for a second.

What the fuck happened to Steve Harrington? Not just today, no. What happened to him?

What happend to make him look up at Eddie Munson, out of all people, with glistening eyes so endlessly scared, and say, “I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture. I can't—” A wheeze, a keen, a whimper, and Harringtin pulls at his hair, uncaring that he's making things worse.

Meanwhile, Eddie is stuck on his words. Because what. 

“Can’t, can't die now ‘cause Tommy thinks he’s so… He’s… He’s just sad, man. Griev'n' and confused. But Billy’s gone, an'— And now I’ll…”

Steve looks at him now, his eyes shining with tears and something that Eddie’s written poems about and created characters around. This expression, like the world will end. And inspiring as it is, it fucking breaks his heart now. 

“They said my brain is hurt, Eddie.”

Eddie swallows the hurt and the fear and the complete overwhelm he's feeling. Steve is telling him things that Eddie doesn't know how to handle.

“You won’t die, Steve,” he says in as gentle a voice as he can muster right now, because that's the only thing he knows.

And he won’t, right? People don’t just die. Not from taking a punch, not when they just graduated high school, not when they’re Steve Harrington. Right? 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay,” Steve breathes. “That’s good.” 

Eddie wants to hug him in that moment. He never knew that this was possible, wanting to hug Steve Harrington, wanting to wrap the blanket around him even tighter and keep him safe and convince him that he won’t die. 

And then the rest of what he said catches up with Eddie and leaves anger in its wake. 

“Hagan did that to you?” 

Steve nods. “Started going off about Billy.”

Eddie’s blood freezes at that name. "Hargrove?” 

Another nod, though Steve doesn’t look too happy about moving his head, and he groans quietly. “They were friends. Tommy is angry. Grieving. Con— Confused. He was just saying shit, like it’s my fault. And it is. Kinda. But Tommy’s, he, he’s... Just saying shit. And then he punched me. A lot. And he didn’t stop. And now… is now.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes dumbly, carefully bandaging the glaring wound at his temple, needing to start somewhere. “Now is now.” His blood is still frozen as he tries very hard not to listen to Steve. Nothing that Harrington says has any right to matter anything to him; they live in two different worlds. If Harrington confesses to murder while severely concussed under Eddie’s watch, then there are no witnesses to drag either of them through the mud for it. Eddie is just gonna forget about it. Or try, anyway. “But you’re… Shit , Steve, you’re really hurt.” 

Steve blinks. Pauses. And Eddie thinks he’s lost him. But then, “Yeah. I’m always hurt.” 

And that, in this little voice, is like a gut punch. Because Eddie knows something about always hurt. “What?” 

“What?” 

There is ice in his veins as he asks, “Who’s hurting you, Steve?” 

Steve looks at him, opening his mouth once, twice, like he’s about to say something and Eddie holds his breath. But then Steve’s eyes droop and he shrinks in on himself a bit more. 

“Jus’ everyone, sometimes. God you don’t… You don’t even know.” 

Know what, Harrington? Eddie can barely breathe anymore.

“’M tired, Eddie,” Steve mumbles, closing his eyes. “Don’t wanna hurt anymore.” 

“Hey, hey, no!” Eddie reaches out, catching Steve’s head and preventing it from colliding with the floor as he’s slumping and falling over. 

And just like that, the panic is back, frantic but determined this time. He’s going to get help; there’s nothing he can do with his lousy first aid kit, not when Steve keeps going in and out of consciousness like that. Not when he can barely see anything or clean the wounds properly.

He’s going to get Steve to a hospital and allow them both to forget this ever happened. Because Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson don’t breathe the same air or share traumatic stories in a boathouse like this. 

He’ll get out of Steve’s hair the second the hospital doors close behind him, and get out of whatever trouble someone like Harrington could be in. Eddie doesn’t even want to know. He doesn't want to be part of his ghost story.

But as he’s scooping him up and helping him out of the damned boathouse, clumsily preventing him from stumbling over his own feet or tools or tarp or planks or whatever fucking shit is littering the floor of this godforsaken place, he can hear Steve speaking quietly. 

"Where‘re we going?"

And even though a second ago he was determined to take Steve to a hospital, there is only one place on Eddie's mind right now. Only one place he knows where he won't be scared anymore.

"Somewhere safe," he says, tightening his hold on the boy even though his hands are shaking now, too. He looks over his shoulders the moment they're out of the boathouse, stupidly worried that whoever did this to Steve – Hagan, apparently – would still be around, would follow them and do the same shit to Eddie.

"Safe?"

"Safe."

"Okay," Steve sighs, like he believes him. Like he trusts him. Hell, they've never even spoken before, but something inside Eddie breaks at the little sigh, at the way Steve goes slack in his arms. And even more at the little, "Thanks."

If Eddie's eyes are filled with tears and the hands around the wheel are clenched so tight to hide the way they're shaking, then Steve is not conscious enough to comment on it.

(addendum 7 december) onwards to part 2

[silkentine]

“Curly, I’ve been shackled before. You get these kinda wounds from fighting back.”

I combined a few scenes from Bite The Hand by @blasphemlm to create this tender moment between Zoro and Sanji. (They’re supposed to be in the kitchen here but they were out on the upper deck earlier and it made my heart ache.) I’ve wanted to draw something for this fic since the moment I first read it, but the most recent chapter finally got to me. Please read the fic here!!

[cwispihae]

Some Water 7 Sanuso just in case it hasn't hurt you in a while :') ✨

[pinksartdump]

I saw this and had to recreate it I AM IN PAIN or more like vox is. I liked the sketch but imma finish this up and color tomorrow, felt like sharing a WIP.

[bekkomi]

Reverse AU or time travel shenanigans of Law and tiny Rosinante that I wish there was a long fic for