#I love how my pain tolerance below my neck is so high but anything above my shoulders I’m like 🥺😭

[batsbaby]

Google this isn’t helpful

[miekasa]

Oh, oh your idea now has me thinking: SnK characters & tattoos 👀 Do they want them? How many and what kind of art would they have on them 👀 I feel like only Erwin wouldn’t have one because he gives me those vibes 😂

I’m not too proud to say that I have thought about this quite a bit 😌 so I will share some with you, and yes, I shamelessly think that (most) tattoos are attractive and I cannot explain why ink on someone’s body is s*xy to me but it is 😌

Eren seems like he would get the majority of his tattoos in one place/close together on his body, so I think he’s most likely to have a sleeve or something like that. He’s a mama’s boy, so he’d have at least one dedicated to her, maybe more. Something for his friends, too; like a tattoo that reminds me of Mikasa and Armin—maybe they all have tattoos that coordinate, but aren’t exactly the same, if that makes sense? Some of them are just things he thought looked cool, and he said “fuck it I’ll get it tatted.” I think they’d be more on the realist/intricate end of tattoo designs, I don’t know if realistic is the way to describe them, but things like this. Very pretty, but also very well thought out. He might have a few fun/less serious ones on other parts of his body, but are much less visible. 

Other places he might have some are like on his ankle/lower leg, probably has one on his hand opposite the arm with the sleeve... I’m feeling froggy so I’ll leap and give him one under his collar bone too 😌 you’re welcome 😌 for my sake, and yours, I won’t picture him with one on his back 😌

Mikasa seems the type to have hers kind of spread out but also... in the same area? Her tattoo art style is more... simplistic than the ones Eren has; more on the end of line art, rather than symbols with shading, but still detailed. I think she might have them on her arms, maybe a small one on her hip; she has a high tolerance for pain, so she could do ones on her rib/side, finger, and ankle and it wouldn’t even bother her. Hot girl shit. 

Armin... unfortunately, I can see his very clearly. I don’t know how to describe this body part... on the back of his forearm, above his elbow... yeah LMAOO. That’s the only clearly visible one. I don’t think he would have many, maybe four tops, but they’re quite small, and usually hidden under his clothing; maybe on his side, but closer to his back, his hip, I feel like Eren could have convinced him to get some stupid little tattoo like under their big toes and Armin was like *big sigh* “I guess nobody will see it anyways...” Boyfriend antics 🙄 ALSO might I offer you, if he’s gonna have another visible one, behind his ear... very small, and he got it done when he still had his bob and he was like “It’s hardly noticeable!” and then he cut his hair and... awooga

Levi... bitch... bitch.... I am tempted to give him a full sleeve, but instead let me just say that they’re on his upper arm, at least the majority of them. And they kinda spread out from there onto his shoulder blade, with maybe even a few on his chest. Again, not even visible with most of his clothing, but they’re very much so there... Like I said, they’d be mostly concentrated there, but he might have one or two on his lower side/back opposite the side with the half-sleeve. 

He’d also probably get something related to his mother, probably his few for his friends too but might not even tell them (because it wouldn’t be obvious; like their names or anything)... he seems like he would have coordinates of some place special to him, I don’t know what that place would be but I’m sure he would have one. Other miscellaneous things like images/symbols that mean something to him, maybe even things that serve as a reminder or kind of mantra to him. All of his tattoos would be intentional and have a pretty significant meaning to him. 

HANGE INNER BICEP TATTOO!! HANGE INNER BICEP TATTOO!! Also Hange with a tattoo like on their back, a little below their neck... woof

I can’t really see Erwin with tattoos either, nor can I see Jean with them... though in the appropriate au, I could maybe see some on Jean... not to be self indulgent, but probably on his chest... maybe even one on his neck/close to his ear... I will bark at him.

Sasha might have a few very small, very pretty ones! Pretty scattered around, she just gets it where she feels like it would fit best (and hurt the least lmaoo). With the exception of her finger, that one hurt like a bitch, but it’s so cute and she loves it so much. I feel like she would even get it on her pinky and would be so excited to stick it up and show someone if they asked about it. Sasha absolute best fucking girl!

Connie might also be a chicken and not get any, not because he doesn’t want them, but because he doesn’t want to bear the pain of it, and the process of taking care of it afterwards LMAOO. If he got them, his would be fun, but also have some weird, long, draw-out meaning or connection to him; but hey, that’s kind of what tattoos are for, after all. 

[yandere-daydreams]

Another Yandere!Dabi/Reader piece for the lovely @goretillery​, this one a little more action-packed than the last. I’ve been in such a mood for fight scenes, lately, so it was nice to experiment with a little violence and quirk I haven’t gotten a chance to use before~

Word Count: 1.6k

TW: Graphic Violence, Fire/Burning, Themes of Imprisonment and Unhealthy Mindsets.

It was like you’d been breathing underwater, for the past year.

The change was tangible, as soon as the collar was off. Getting out of Dabi’s apartment during the League’s attack had been child’s play, but finding a Hero with a metal-manipulation quirk had been a miracle, especially so close to home. You weren’t proud of what’d you’d promised in order for her to get the damn thing off of you, but with an odd look and a snap, the quirk-canceling collar was a ball of crumpled foil at your feet and you could inhale without a puddle forming at the bottoms of your lungs. You could’ve sobbed as you felt the wind circling around you, brushing over your skin like a long-lost friend. You’d always been skilled with your quirk, manipulating wind and air pressure, even without a proper source of training. Your wings only--

Oh, god, your wings.

The fire around you didn’t matter, the buildings collapsing didn’t matter, not as you flexed the pair of snow-white, weightless wings sprouting from your back, the appendages following the movement of your arms as you stretched them out in front of you. Twelve months of immobilization had left them stiff, delicate bones cracking into place as you attempted anything close to a flapping-motion, but they were still strong, still reliable, still heavenly to have. You could’ve died now and died happy, right now, if only because you felt free again. Truly, genuinely free.

Of course, Dabi found a way to take away your moment. You weren’t sure what else you’d expected.

He always found a way to make you miserable.

You felt the heat before you saw him, your wings reacting off of instinct. You were in the air before you realized you’d moved, barely rising over the plume of blue frames that’d encapsulated where you’d just been standing. If he intended on pulling his punches, you couldn’t tell, hovering in the sky as the asphalt below you began to sizzle and crack, only cementing the fact that you could’ve easily been a pile of ash, if Dabi had his way. Still, the danger did little to dampen your spirits. You were shoeless and bruised and sore, sure, but you were flying.

You were flying, and you could breathe.

You wouldn’t let him take that away from you, again.

Your fall was short, concluded with a satisfying, knee-skinning thud. The pain was short-lived, dulled by adrenaline, but your time in captivity hadn’t left you in prime condition. Dabi wasn’t fairing much better, though. He was already panting, chest heaving as he took an offensive stance, his skin simmering and smoke rising from scarred patches, his signature jacket covered in a fresh layer of soot. It wasn’t hard to tell Shigaraki’s plan (if he’d had one) had taken a wrong turn, and Dabi was paying the price. In terms of agitation alone, really.

“I knew I should’ve thrown you in the deepest ditch I could find,” He spat, his voice only just audible over the destruction to either of your sides. He was talking to himself more than to you, but when wasn’t he? Gritting your teeth at the thought of the countless one-sided conversation you’d had to tolerate, you held your ground, seething as he went on. “I took care of you, I pampered you, bu that wasn’t good enough--”

You didn’t let him finish. A faint breeze circled you, urging you to make good use of it, and you didn’t think before obeying its command. With a beat of your wings, the breeze turned to a gust, one strong enough to throw Dabi off his feet, slamming him into the nearest building. He hunched forward, protecting his head reflexively, but you used the position to better throw him to the ground, a downward draft to add momentum to his fall. The toll hit was instantaneous, your wings beginning to ache as if you’d created the currents manually, but the sense of power drowned it out, your quirk instilling you with a confidence you’d all-but forgotten. You wondered why you ever let him take advantage of you, why you ever let anyone take advantage of you.

You were strong. You didn’t know why you’d ever thought otherwise.

“You didn’t take care of me!” He couldn’t have been more than a few steps away, but you were yelling before you could stop yourself, hoping your volume would hide the tremble in your voice. He pushed himself up swiftly, sending a volley of blue fire in your direction, but you sent it off track with a flutter and a miniature cyclone, his flames swirling before dissipating into a shimmer of heated air. “You turned me into a housepet. You said you were my friend, but you put a collar around my neck and trapped me the first chance you got.” A whirlwind swirled around his left leg, attempting to buckle his knee, and Dabi countered with a redirection of his own, his calf beginning to smolder, your attack dissolving in the blink of an eye. “You took away a year of my life. I’m not going to thank you for that!”

You saw him stiffen, but the spectacle was quickly obscured by a rush of smoke. It was a distraction, you knew, but that did little to stop your eyes from beginning to sting and the world around you to blur. Dabi emerged through the haze, his fist embedding itself in your solar plexus, black spots forming on the edges of your vision, but you didn’t hesitate to get him back. He was blown off of his feet by a vertical current, giving you time to nurse the bruise forming below your diaphragm, but Dabi latched onto your leg before you could find your balance. “What would’ve happened to you if I didn’t? You’d still be a pigeon just wandering the streets, waiting for someone to come around and snap your neck.” His nails dug into your ankle, his palm heating up and smoldering against your skin. You stifled an automatic sob, attempting to escape, but your efforts to fly were limited by the dead weight still holding you down. “You would’ve died without me!”

“I would’ve been happy.” You didn’t have time to be graceful, driving your heel into his skull, knocking him back to the ground. You were tempted to take off, to get as high as possible and find somewhere he wouldn’t be able to follow, but… you didn’t want to. Your wings were beginning to cramp and a steady, persistent needle pricked at your nerves, but you didn’t want it to be over. For the first time in a long time, you felt good. Not content, not safe, good.

Surely, you’d only feel better when his blood was splattered across the pavement.

Your anger was spiraling before you could rein it in, the constant breeze coiling around you, forming a protective swirl, the wind’s speed soon growing unmanageable, uncontrollable. You let it, memorized by the extent of the bluster, but the briefest moment of stagnation was enough for Dabi to act. He was uncharacteristically quiet as he worked, but the hiss of his flames filled the silence on their own, everything above his waist seeming to alight. The fire snapped you out of your daze, but it was all you could do to consider dispelling your wind before the fire had begun to circle you, a blue glow encasing the two of you. It was beautiful, blocking out the destruction, but Dabi’s powers were never just for-show.

The heat hit you like a wave of arctic water. Sweltering, stifling, suffocating heat, seeming to eat up whatever oxygen was left in the city. You were surrounded on all sides, barely able to keep yourself in place without falling into the fiery inferno. Still, your route of escape was clear, the top of the spiral left open, unattended. You beat your wings, attempting to shoot upwards, but as soon as the appendages were fully extended, you realized your mistake. The pain of feathery down becoming kindling was almost secondary to the smell of your flesh burning off the bone, the terror of glancing over only to see white turn to black in the blink of an eye.

Your plummet wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t planned, it wasn’t elegant, and it wasn’t angelic. You screamed as you hit the ground, letting out a hitched sob as something in your rib cage bent and cracked. Dabi didn’t even bother to laugh, kicking you onto your chest and planting his foot between your shoulder blades, letting out a heavy breath as he pressed his heel into your spine.

“Are you fucking done?” His voice was low, weighed down by strain, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be sympathetic. His stare burnt holes into your neck, and with a click of his tongue, he went on. “Went and broke your jewelry, too, bet you handed it over to the first fucker who asked. And look at this-” A scarred hand grabbed at the bend of your left wing, his touch alone bringing tears to your eyes. “You got yourself all dirty. It’ll take weeks to get the color back.”

“Go screw yourself.” The words came out with a fatal passivity. You didn’t think you were mad, anymore. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“I’ll touch whatever the hell I want. These shitty little things control your quirk, don’t they?” Another grope, this one a bit rougher. You had a feeling he wasn’t trying to be gentle. “I wonder how many feathers we’d have to pluck before we fixed this problem permanently.”

At that, you started to struggle again, your self-preservation instincts finally making themselves known. Dabi only chuckled, that insufferable, unbearable heat returning with the sound of his laugh, the pressure on your chest increasing until it’d pushed out the remaining air in your lungs.

“I can’t have my little birdie tryin’ to fly away again, can I?”

[starlightinhumanform]

The Art of Love: Chapter 8

Fandom: She Ra (2018)

Ship: Glimadora 

Summary: Two sleep deprived gays in a room. Chaos ensues. 

Warnings (for this chapter): Mild language, (please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: High School AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rivals/Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Fluff

A/N: This chapter is just a nice little break because I think we all need some crack fic after season 3. As always, there’s hella fluff just because... I like it. Anyways I decided to insert the headcannon that like me, Adora gets chattery and kinda loopy (read: flirty) when she’s tired. It was funny to me at least and it seemed to go along with Drunk Adora™️ All notes are so appreciated- especially reblogs!! I also love hearing what you think!! Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3    The Art of Love Masterpost    Fic Masterpost    Fic Request Info

They finished far sooner than Glimmer expected them to. At least finished as much as they could, leaving the freshly painted protons to be dealt with in the- well it already was morning- but later at least. Adora had wired the electrons’ form together with expert precision which had surprised Glimmer more than it should have; by now, she should have figured that Adora was basically an expert at everything. Well, almost everything. Apparently art wasn’t her strong suit because she had come spent most of her time threading the protons together multitasking by pausing to practically drool over Glimmer’s painting job.

In Adora’s defense, she was loopy- incredibly so. The lack of sleep had obviously caught up with her because she was acting ridiculous, all previously standard composure completely abandoned. She kept giggling at random things like her hair getting tangled in the wire (Glimmer had to help her untie it because Adora was far too enthusiastic about cutting her soft locks off). Worst of all, she kept leaning towards Glimmer, bumping her face against Glimmer’s shoulder, and cooing for god’s sake. She mumbled seemingly whatever came to mind and almost all it seemed to center around Glimmer. About her art, about her hair, about her eyes, about the posters on her walls. Once, she had leaned over, resting her weight on her elbow and just staring up at Glimmer from below. She hadn’t stopped until Glimmer had asked what was wrong.

“Nothing. You’re just really pretty.”

Oh.

Glimmer knew it was just the side effects of Adora’s exhaustion, that she wasn’t thinking her clear, logical thoughts she usually did and that she probably- no, definitely- didn’t actually mean it. That didn’t mean Glimmer didn’t squirm where she sat or that her throat didn’t make a strange gulping sound when she tried to swallow and that she didn’t blush deep red at Adora’s rain of compliments. Sometimes when Adora’s face found Glimmer’s shoulder she wouldn’t resist the urge to run her fingers through the blond hair and would let herself feel rewarded by Adora’s happy little hums. Her mind yelled at her to push Adora away but she was so close.

So Glimmer decided to let herself pretend- at least for now, at least for this half an hour while her overhead light meant her window was the only glowing window on her whole block. She could pretend that it was ok to like Adora and indulge herself in whatever the hell Adora was doing.

Despite Adora’s apparent drunkenness, she finished the part Glimmer had assigned her to aptly and faster than Glimmer would have guessed with all of Adora’s breaks to whisper into Glimmer’s side.

Adora placed the mildly dangerous looking piece of wire and clay down in front of her and plodded over to Glimmer comically on her hands and knees. She sat down with an oof behind her, stretching her arms loosely around Glimmer’s neck and placing her head on her shoulder.

Glimmer felt her body tense as she took a sharp inhale, “What are you doing?”

Adora started drawing away, “Oh sorry-“

“No it’s ok!” The words came out of Glimmer’s mouth so quickly she wasn’t even sure she had said them.

“Ok then,” Adora settled back into Glimmer’s back, as if it was more comfortable to be close than far apart. Glimmer let herself entertain the idea for just a moment before realizing it was ridiculous to think Adora would share Glimmer’s begrudgingly admitted feelings.

“But... what were you doing?” What the hell- she mights as well torture herself and entertain the notion, right?

“It’s just that this is how me and Cat hang out a lot.”

“Oh,” The timid little ball of warmth that had worked so hard to climb up Glimmer’s chest suddenly plummeted. Just the mention of Cat was enough to set Glimmer on edge, but the thought that Glimmer was just a temporary replacement, a stand-in for Cat? That was the poison her mind had been warning her about earlier, an insidious venom that made Glimmer sick to her stomach.

“I just assumed that’s how most friends act, ya know?” Adora continued on, completely unaware of Glimmer’s rushing thoughts only inches away. But hey at least she was trying to act like friends? The warmth began to rise again but it was sickly.

Glimmer huffed a laugh without actually laughing, “Why would you need to assume? You’ve got tons of friends.”

Adora shrugged, “I mean, I know a lot of people but I wouldn’t say I’m really close with any of them. Cat’s my only real friend.”

Adora’s voice was higher than usual and held an odd sing-song quality that made the whole, relatively serious conversation feel completely surreal.

“‘cept for you of course.”

“What?”

“You’re my friend too,” Glimmer could feel Adora’s smile on her neck as she spoke and Glimmer was worried she going to start glowing.

“Well that’s one good thing isn’t it?” Glimmer was smiling too now.

At some point Adora made the decision that the correct place for her head was in Glimmer’s lap, settling her face into the softness of Glimmer’s thigh. She looked up with quickly drooping eyes as Glimmer’s hands and paintbrush worked above her. Apparently she didn’t notice Glimmer’s pounding heart or screaming brain because she fell asleep quickly.

Glimmer stuttered through her remaining work because she kept gazing down at Adora, trying to comprehend how this had happened. Less than a week ago she had hated Adora- or at least thought she did- now, she was sitting with the girl curled in her lap like a snuggly cat and a throbbing crushing in her chest. It was too much for head to wrap itself around; especially if part of her mind was still in vicious denial.

Glimmer tried to sort through her options, sifting them through a mental filing system. She could try to be friends with Adora but that would risk her crush growing and that would be painful because obviously Adora would never return the favor. There was also the fact that Adora would probably get tired of her quickly and then that would really hurt and even if she didn’t, Cat held herself far above Glimmer and would never tolerate being around her so then Adora would have to choose between one of them and of course she would choose the friend she’d had for literally her entire life. Ok so what’s the alternative? Stop hanging out with her, push her away as far as possible. Her brain had an immediate answer, but it wasn’t without consequences either. Namely, it might hurt Adora’s feelings and Glimmer wasn’t sure she could stand to see sadness in those big blue eyes- especially if she knew she had caused it. And... Glimmer couldn’t bet on her crush wearing off just because she distanced herself from Adora. Now that Glimmer had ripped the top of Pandora’s Box off, there was no guarantee the flood of emotions that drenched her every time she looked at Adora would stop any time soon.

Glimmer finished painting and sighed, letting herself relax for the first time since Adora had texted her the evening before. She set down her brush and the last “proton.” There was nothing she could do until they dried and she let her shoulders slump forward. Glimmer could feel the exhaustion running through her very bones. She hadn’t pulled a night like this in a long time and it was definitely catching up with her. Her eyelids felt almost as heavy as Adora’s head in her lap. Adora.

She let her smile creep towards fondness as she looked down at Adora. She was too tired to listen to her stupid, crazy brain and anyways, even her thoughts were starting to get sluggish. It gave Glimmer the time to think- actually think- without having to compete with her own input. Adora looked peaceful but very very human. She struck Glimmer as perfect but somehow she had never seen someone look more real than Adora did in that moment. She looked absolutely and, with out a doubt, perfectly sincere- ah, so that’s the word she had been looking for.

Glimmer smiled as she slumped forward.

———————————————————————

When she woke up, she was hunched over Adora exactly where she had passed out. She couldn’t have fallen asleep for more than half an hour but it was long enough to develop one hell of a crick in her neck.

Her eyesight was nearly as blurry as her thoughts but she was aware of two things, the first being that the darkness outside her window had become marginally lighter and was beginning to shift from pure obsidian blue to gray. The other thing she knew was that there was something solid and yellow lying across her lap. Oh, it’s Adora.

Shit, ADORA. It suddenly hit Glimmer that it was morning and her mom would be here any minute and Adora was not only here but sound asleep and Glimmer had no idea how she was going to get her out of the house. Glimmer’s mom had made the habit of checking on Glimmer to make sure she made it to bed at least once in a night while she stayed up until her-mother-didn’t-want-to-know when. She would not be incredibly enthused to find her daughter curled on the floor with some strange girl that she had no idea about. But it wasn’t like Glimmer could throw Adora out onto the streets in a not so great part of town at 4:30 in the morning. Hell, she wasn’t even sure she could wake Adora.

“Adora, Adora, hey Adora. Wake up,” She shook the girl’s shoulders without being rewarded with any sort of response, “Adora!!”

The girl was completely gone and the only signs she showed of being effected at all by Glimmer’s continuous movement was the occasional noise. She might as well have been a large rock for as responsive as she was being. At least a rock wouldn’t piss Glimmer’s mom off so much, though.

Glimmer gave up, huffing and letting her hands fall to her sides. She stood up slowly and carefully so that Adora’s head didn’t roll off her lap with the inevitable clunk that comes with someone’s head hitting the floor (Glimmer knew about this sound because she had experienced it herself multiple times). She sighed through her nose and with her hands on her hips she realized how much she must look like some parent looking at their unruly child and saying “Now what am I going to do with you?” Gross.

Glimmer flopped the palms of her hands against her thighs for a moment before resolving to physically move Adora. She bent down, hooked her arms under Adora’s armpits, and lugged her own body upwards, hoping Adora’s form would move with her. Unfortunately, Glimmer soon found that Adora was roughly as heavy as a large rock as well. Maybe even a small boulder. Either that or Glimmer was somewhat weak. She shook her head- nah that couldn’t be it.

She tried a different approach this time, keeping her knees bent and tugging Adora as she scooted backwards in baby steps. She was able to swivel Adora so her feet were facing the door and her head was towards Glimmer’s bed. It was at this point that Glimmer realized there was a maze of wire and clay and whatever else she had piled up between them and the other side of the room; there was no way she was going to be able to navigate all that.

Glimmer groaned with her head thrown back before placing Adora back down as gently as she could and wincing when the girl slipped out of her arms a little too quickly. Ah, there’s the clunk. Glimmer was almost sure Adora would wake up as her head made contacted with the floor. When she made no movement whatsoever, it flashed across Glimmer’s mind that maybe the impact was enough to actually knock her out.

She pushed the thought aside and began moving the materials out of the way. It took at least ten minutes for Glimmer to reach the bed and in that time period she wasn’t able to figure out anything that resembled the next step. She had already found that she couldn’t lift Adora and even if she could, her mother would be even less happy with finding Glimmer in bed with some random girl.

Glimmer set Adora back down, placing the girl’s back against the mattress side. The only thing she could think of doing was attempting to wake Adora again. This time her rough shakes were successful and Adora sat up only slightly straighter than the position Glimmer had slumped her in. Adora turned her head as she looked around the room with bleary eyes as if she didn’t know where she was.

“Adora, thank god you’re alive- I mean awake. Look, I need you to hide,” Glimmer was whispering just in case her mom was home early by some odd twist of fate.

“Ooo ok,” Adora struggled to her feet, using one of Glimmer’s arms as an anchor to haul herself up. She began walking unsteadily to some unknown location in Glimmer’s room.

“Where the hell are you going?!”

“Hiding,” Adora twisted rather floppily to give Glimmer a conspiratorial wink.

She made her way to Glimmer’s closet, pulling open one of the paneled doors and slipping inside.

“Adora!” Glimmer hissed, “Come out of the closet!”

“Ok, I’m a lesbian,” Adora stage whispered from behind the door.

Glimmer couldn’t stop herself but laugh, hiding her face behind her hands, “Oh my god, you’re an idiot. Get out of there.”

Adora stuck her head out, grinning and Glimmer grabbed her wrist to pull the rest of her out into the room. It was strange how natural it felt- to interact with Adora, to grab her hand and laugh at her and with her and it was all very new but it was all very right. Once again, it struck Glimmer how quickly things had changed.

Adora clambered out of the closet and grinned at Glimmer, “So what’s up?”

“Oh, uh,” Glimmer ran her hands through her hair, “sometimes my mom will check on me and I think she’ll be pissed if she finds me sleeping with some strange girl.”

It took a second for what had come out of Glimmer’s mouth to second to sink into her brain, “Not like, ya know, sleeping together- we just both happened to be asleep. Together. Not even that close. Just like in the same room.”

Adora wrinkled her eyebrows, “Didn’t I fall asleep basically in your lap?”

Shit she remembers that?

“Oh yeah- ha- guess you did,” Glimmer tried for a smile.

Adora returned it with a genuine one, full of smugness that made the blood rush to Glimmer’s face, “So we were pretty close?”

“Uh, yeah, that it pretty close again,” Glimmer prayed that her blush wasn’t showing through, “I mean- um, I guess we were pretty close, yeah?”

Adora was stepping forward, laughing like a chime on the wind, “Is that a question?”

“I don’t think so...”

“You don’t sound so sure,” Adora was right in front of her now, smile close-lipped but still as playful and bright as ever. She swung her arms around Glimmer, clasping her hands behind Glimmer’s neck. Oh no no no no no no.

Glimmer was a gay disaster and her thundering heart couldn’t handle this shit. She wondered vaguely if she could die from- well she didn’t know what this was, but it sure felt deadly. It suddenly struck Glimmer that Adora was flirting with her, causing her to stare up at Adora with eyes filled with more terror than what was usually associated with someone attractive flirting with you.

Adora laughed and replaced her hands by her side before Glimmer’s mind could dissolve further into a tangle of short circuiting wires. Glimmer let out a sigh of relief but her heart sunk fast enough to make a splashing wave in her stomach. Adora’s hands were warm; warm enough to spread heat straight through Glimmer’s core. She looked up into Adora’s blue eyes, searching for answers in the mirth that swam there.

“Glimmer? Glimmer?” Adora’s face came back into focus wearing a grin, “You kinda spaced out there.”

Glimmer wished she could just stare into that blue forever without having to worry about anything else. But Adora was staring at her with a quirked eyebrow and confused smile, “Yeah sorry, just a bit out of it.”

Adora tilted her head to the side and let the ghost of her finger tips run along the side of Glimmer’s face. It made a shiver run down her spine and the breath in her throat glitch to a stop. This girl needed to stop before Glimmer just completely lost control of all her functions, “Well I’ve gotten a lot more sleep than you; you should let yourself rest until we need to get up in the morning.”

“Yeah, uh, about that; how are you getting to school?” Glimmer breathed out the words but it still didn’t feel like her lungs were working.

“Cat’ll pick me up in the morning. She always does.”

“Oh, uh, right,” Cat. Jeez, it was always Cat wasn’t it? She had gotten so worried about blocking herself from Adora that she had forgotten that Cat would actually keep Adora from her- physically.

“Don’t worry about me, though,” Adora’s grin beamed through Glimmer’s thoughts.

“I’m sorry, what?” Damn, am I being that obvious? Glimmer shook her head slightly, hoping it could sort everything in her head to an easy little set of boxes that she had never been actually able to create, “Why would I worry about you? Like, heh, what would give you the impression that I was worried about you? I’m not worried about you!”

Adora’s face fell immediately and the small expression made something twist in Glimmer’s gut. It was nothing like the smug, (dare Glimmer hazard it) flirty smile she had held on seconds before, “Oh, uh, you seemed to get really worried when I said that and I just thought maybe it was because I’ll have to walk a ways to where I get picked up but I was wrong and I shouldn’t have just assumed that you’d be thinking about me. It was stupid-“

“No! It’s not that it’s just-“ Glimmer couldn’t stand the way Adora had turned her head to the side, eyes downcast and only daring to make eye contact for a second before breaking it off to examine the floor. Nah, it was Glimmer’s job to be an insecure loser.

“It’s just what?” Adora’s eyes flashed up and help steady with Glimmer’s for longer. There was that sadness in them that made Glimmer’s heart crumple like a soda can.

Glimmer deflated. She wasn’t ready to let Adora only to be told she was reading into everything way too far; she wasn’t ready to get hurt, “It’s nothing.”

Adora managed to complete her transformation into kicked puppy, forcing a sigh out of Glimmer.

She composed herself. She could lie, she did it all the time- Adora was no different. Except she was different. Glimmer pushed the thought to the side and straightened like an actor preparing to step on stage, “I wasn’t worried about you because you can obviously take care of yourself so I have complete confidence in you.”

The effect was immediate, Adora’s face brightening like the sun breaking through clouds after a rain storm, “Oh, really?”

Glimmer raised her hand to cross a X across her chest and she was reminded of just how close they were, how little space there was between. But she had to continue, finish the act- for Adora and herself, “Yeah, really!”

It occurred to Glimmer that she was more or less doing exactly what she had accused Adora of. Just another thought for Glimmer to shoosh to the side, whispering that she had good intentions while she had thought Adora was just trying to recruit her... or whatever she had thought. It all seemed very far away now.

“Oh... ok,” Adora smiled and Glimmer could swear a lead jacket had fallen off her shoulders.

“So anyways,” Adora yawned, sentence broken by her never satisfied exhaustion, “What are we going to do about your mom or whatever? Do you, uh, do you want me to hide somewhere.”

She grimaced, glancing back at the closet she had climbed out of and Glimmer couldn’t stop herself from laughing, “I’m not going to force you sleep in the closet.”

Adora giggled, “Good- I’ve spent enough time in there.”

Glimmer laughed again before chewing her bottom lip and scratching the back of her head. She dragged the short, thick waves through her fingers as she spoke, “I think we could just share the bed again.”

“Won’t your mom see me?”

“If you take the wall side, I think it’ll be ok; she doesn’t really look too hard,” Glimmer set all her previous concerns aside to create new, fresher worries, her face scrunched up in thought. She had a lot to consider- mainly the fact that she and Adora had a tendency to get wrapped up in each other when they slept near each other and she wasn’t confident her pinning heart and divided mind could handle the inevitable situation. She wasn’t sure if she could stand to wrap her arms around this girl knowing she was never going to be able to do it again.

But Adora was already shuffling forward, Glimmer’s wrist held loosely in her curled fingers and Glimmer’s heart grasped firmly in her casual movements. Glimmer had noticed before the hypnotizing qualities of Adora’s signature ponytail that she wore to school everyday; she had never given herself the time to let herself wonder why she was so fascinated. Here though, she couldn’t help it. Adora moved like someone who knew exactly what they were doing- despite they fact that they were somewhat drunk. Her torso swayed from side to side far more than it usually did or probably should. It caused her loose hair to shift across her back like sand move from dune to dune.

Adora turned with a confused grin to face Glimmer and gave the wrist she was holding a small tug, “You planning on just standing there?”

“What?” Glimmer realized her feet had forgotten to move. She considered taking a step forward but wasn’t prepared to stand practically nose to nose with Adora- again.

“It’s like you never want to sleep,” Adora’s smile was real but so was the question beneath it.

“Oh, uh, I guess it’s just I’m not used to sharing a bed with someone,” It wasn’t really a lie. It’s not that I don’t want to sleep; I just don’t want to do it next to you.

Adora tilted her head the side, “You don’t like being in bed with someone?”

What sort of question is that?? Glimmer took the easy route, shrugging and hoping it was enough to throw the conversation back to Adora’s side.

Adora seemed to be thinking, eyes staring at something far away and a few inches left of Glimmer’s head. She was rubbing the pad of her thumb along where she was still holding Glimmer’s wrist, completing a semicircle from the soft inner side and back up to the top and back down again. Once, twice, three times, four. Glimmer knew it was just a compulsion as Adora thought, but the gentleness made her breath go feathery.

Finally Adora shared her grand conclusion, stopping the movement of her thumb- but not before Glimmer’s knees had given her an arched eyebrow sort of warning like Ya know you can’t handle this sorta shit and we might give out soon, “I like sleeping next to someone; it’s just cozier.”

Adora wrote off her words with a shrug but Glimmer could tell she really meant it, that she felt safer with someone sleeping by her side. It wasn’t Glimmer’s thing, but Adora obviously felt that way with her whole being.

“Ok,” Glimmer wasn’t sure what else she was supposed to say, “well, we should probably go to sleep if we want to be awake for any of our classes.”

Adora snorted and began moving again, Glimmer actually following this time, “God, don’t remind me of that. I am going to look dead tomorrow or actually today haha.”

Adora’s laugh was bitterly fake and it made Glimmer cringe internally, “Yeah I’m sorry about that.”

The girl had already thrown herself onto the bed, back to the wall and face turned up to look at Glimmer who was still standing. She looked confused again, with just a hint of incredulity, “Why would you be sorry? It’s Weaver’s stupid fault that we needed to stay up until god knows when to work on this stupid project.”

Glimmer laid down as Adora continued ranting, resting on her hip so she could watch Adora as she spoke.

“I just hate teachers who assume we don’t have any other classes or homework or- dare we even mention it- lives outside of school?!” Adora’s tone had risen while the volume had stayed the same.

She was quietly hissing her words out, spitting venom at the whole of the American education system, but her wide eyes stared at Glimmer with out any kind of ill will, simply looking for agreement.

Glimmer wanted to just give in, tell Adora that she was absolutely right (that wouldn’t be a lie) and she could listen to her rant for hours (also not a lie). She liked the passion sparking off Adora; she was always so contained and proper that this enraged, adorable fireball excited Glimmer. Because Glimmer could work with that; Glimmer knew fire- she felt it everyday. But they both needed sleep and especially Adora, “You’re completely right and you should say it... just not right now. ‘Cause if you keep whisper yelling, neither of us are going to be able to get any more rest.”

Adora nodded, looking disappointed but conceding to Glimmer’s point, “Yeah, ok, you’re right. But we’ll have to take a rain check on this- I have whole essays about that shit.”

Glimmer huffed through her nose, “Of course you do; and you probably wrote them for fun.”

Adora lifted one shoulder, “Can’t deny that.”

“Well you can tell me about it some other time.”

“I’ll just start yelling at you from across the halls,” She grinned brightly and gave a playful wink, “I’m sure that’s exactly what you would want me to do.”

She plans on talking to me at school... Butterflies were hosting a full on rave in Glimmer’s stomach. And that wink; she was actually going to kill Glimmer.

“Anyways, what time are you planning on getting up?”

Glimmer tried to shake off her blush without success, “Oh, we shouldn’t sleep in too long because my mom usually comes into my room in the morning to physically drag me out of bed.”

Adora laughed and Glimmer continued on, “Anyways, what time were you thinking about?”

Adora quirked her mouth to the side for a second to think, “Would six be ok?”

Glimmer checked her phone and set an alarm, “Sure, that’d give us a whole two hours and twenty minutes.”

Glimmer had spoken with a sarcastic tone but Adora nodded and seemed to get ready to fall asleep. She snuggled her side into the mattress, curling inwards but scooting towards Glimmer. Within a few seconds her breathing had fallen into a steady rhythm.

So Glimmer had no idea if Adora was actually aware of her actions when she reached out, placing her arm across Glimmer’s and pressing her hand into Glimmer’s back. It forced Glimmer to curl herself closer to Adora, but there was no force in it; Glimmer had melted at her touch.

She fell asleep counting Adora’s freckles.

[minaminokyoko]

A Men in Black: International Headcanon Ficlet

A/N: Someone call sanitation to take me to a landfill, for I am trash. Here is a scene that I thought up that I’d love to happen in the upcoming Thorkyrie AU Men in Black: International. I am so sorry. 

"M!"

Agent H had screamed her name with a panic too real for his usual cool demeanor. She turned to see the alien pointing an odd-looking bio-weapon at her. It was too close. She didn't have time to move. This was it. The end.

The alien fired.

And Agent H tackled her out of the way.

He cried out as the shot took him high up in the back and they both crumpled to the street in a heap. The aliens chattered to each other and retreated before she could wriggle out from under her motionless partner. It wouldn't have mattered anyway. He wasn't moving. Dear God, he wasn't moving.

"H?" M said, her voice high and panicked as she heaved him onto his side. "H, look at me! Say something!"

She couldn't breathe. He still wasn't moving. Had he just...no, there was no way he was gone. She gave his cheek a slap and he groaned, catching her wrist. His eyelids fluttered and he glared at her.

"Don't hit me again."

M's breath came out in a shaky rush of relief. "Get up, you big stupid lout."

She stood and gripped his arm, hauling him to his feet. Her hands came away red with blood. It was already pouring down the side of his suit and soaking into his shirt. She could see the shot had left some kind of hideous starfish-shaped entity buried into the back of his right shoulder.

"Come on, we have to get you back to HQ--"

Agent H shook his head. "Too far. I'll bleed out before we get there. My apartment's closer."

He hit the fob to unlock the car and handed the keys to her. "Drive. Fast."

She nodded tightly and helped him into the passenger's seat. She slid over the hood and climbed in, and then drove like a bat out of hell. He gave directions, and with every grimace, she felt worse and worse. Thanks to her panic, they reached his place in less than ten minutes. He'd lost enough blood that she had to support him along the way. He used biometrics to open the door, spilling her into a loft-style apartment. The hallway led them to the kitchen and she propped him up against the island counter.

"What do you need to take this thing off you?" M asked. "Pliers?"

Agent H shook his head. "No, it's an Urpath stinger. They latch on and deploy barbs beneath the skin. The whole point is to make you bleed out or die of infection. You can't just pull it out."

He gestured to the doorway on her left. "Footlocker in front of the bed. You're looking for big prong-looking thing. Like a tuning fork. First Aid kit's in there as well."

She nodded and ducked inside his bedroom, sifting through the various weapons and devices until she found it as well as the kit. By the time she returned, he's gotten his suit jacket, tie, and shirt off. He reached for the prong and she frowned at him, not offering it. "What are you doing?"

"Taking it out," he said, confused.

"You can't possibly reach it. Just let me."

He scowled. "May I remind you that this is your fault?"

She gritted her teeth. "Listen, you stubborn fool, you'll only hurt yourself more trying to work with one hand. Now shut up and let me take it out."

He glared, seeming defiant, but his skin had paled even more and weariness had set in. He plopped down on the stool in front of the counter and she hopped up to sit on it so she could reach, since he was so much taller than her.

She winced deeply as she saw the disgusting little creature. It was a dark, sickly green color and shaped like one of those toy jacks kids used to play with in the old days. Mostly dried blood crusted on his skin all the way down to the top of his slacks. Either he had a high tolerance for pain or he was simply hiding how much it hurt. It looked truly hideous, and her stomach churned with guilt and worry.

"So what do I do?" she asked.

"The tips of the prong are electrified. Find an entry point and jab it into the stupid thing. It'll force it to release the barbs and you can pull it out."

"Electrified?" she sputtered. "It...isn't that going to hurt you?"

H shrugged his other shoulder. "Pain don't hurt."

She sighed. "Whatever you say, Patrick Swayze."

M examined the nasty beast and noticed some sort of opening, and she didn't question what it was. She switched on the button at the bottom of the prong and heard the telltale hum that she'd armed it, and then swiftly stabbed the alien creature.

Agent H flinched and grabbed the ends of the counter, grunting. His breathing deepened and quickened. She muttered "sorry" to him and pushed the prongs in deeper. As she did, the creature started to wriggle and she could see some of the tiny, sharp barbs popping out of his shoulder blade one at a time. She watched them carefully as they fell away. Fresh blood leaked out of new wounds as they did.

"Why did you do that?" she asked so quietly she herself almost didn't hear it.

H tilted his head slightly in her direction. "What?"

"Why?" she repeated. "Why did you take this shot for me?"

"You're five-foot-nothing and you barely weigh a hundred pounds," he said with a dismissive snort. "It would have gone right through you."

"That's not what I meant," she snapped. "You don't even like me."

"So what?"

"So what? You're hurt. Why did you take that hit for me when you've spent nearly the whole day telling me what a screw up I am and how I'm a stone around your bloody neck? Why did you risk your life for me when you can barely stand me?"

"I don't have to like you. You're my partner."

She froze then, staring at him in disbelief. "What?"

"You're my partner," he repeated slowly. "My job is to protect you. Doesn't matter if we get along."

M couldn't find words to reply to that. It had a simple, immovable weight to it. He hadn't accepted her, but he had accepted her position. He had accepted their partnership. In some small way, he...trusted her. Enough to risk his life. It said more about him than anything else they'd done today.

The alien's last barbs released from his skin. She exhaled. "This is going to hurt. A lot."

"What else is new?" he muttered.

She gripped the prong tightly in one hand.

And with the other, reached down and held his right hand where it rested on the counter.

He stiffened a bit in surprise, but he didn't draw away. She squeezed his fingers and then yanked the creature out at long last. He hissed sharply through his teeth and she held on tight until the tension left him. "What do I do with this monstrosity?"

"Garbage disposal."

She chuckled darkly and hopped off the counter. "My pleasure."

She shoved the remains of the alien down the drain and vindictively flipped the switch. Its green blood splattered around the bottom of the sink until it had been completely ripped to shreds. She ran water until she was sure it was all gone and then returned to her spot on the counter. She wet some gauze and cleaned off the dried blood before taking a fresh wad and slowing his bleeding. It took a few minutes, so she glanced around at the clean, brightly lit apartment. The colors were warm--mostly reds and golds and oranges. The furniture was simple brown leather and oak wood fixtures. All around the den, she spotted oil canvas paintings of various things--bowls of fruit, sunsets, the ocean, wildlife.

"Nice place," she said offhandedly. "Didn't expect that."

"Oh? What did you expect?"

She smirked. "A bachelor pad."

H chuckled. "Am I that stereotypical, M?"

"Just a bit. Where'd you get the paintings?"

"Didn't get them anywhere."

Her jaw dropped. "You mean you...you painted them yourself?"

He just nodded. She took them in again, this time in more detail. "They're...beautiful. Where did you learn that?"

"We were all somebody before this job," H said softly. "I was someone who liked to paint."

"Do you still do it?"

"Sometimes."

She bit her lip to stop a dopey smile. She was glad he couldn't see it. It warmed her through and through to know this about him. The bleeding finally stopped and she found another device, one she was familiar with, and held the wand over his skin. The wound gradually closed as his skin reknitted itself until it appeared perfectly smooth again. She ran her fingertips over the spot to confirm it.

And he shivered.

M grinned. "Are you ticklish, Agent H?"

"No," he said too quickly.

She giggled and dragged her fingers down his spine. He did a hilarious little squirming dance. "Gah! Stop it!"

She giggled harder and hopped down from the counter. "Where do you keep your shirts?"

"Dresser, to the right," he muttered, blushing furiously, but she could also see him trying not to smile. She returned to his room with another crisp, white shirt and suit jacket. Once more, he reached for it, but she stopped him, her voice a little soft.

"Allow me."

He eyed her, but nodded nonetheless. She unfolded the shirt from its packaging and helped him into it, doing the sleeves while he tucked the ends into his slacks. She felt his gaze on her, but it wasn't accusatory or awkward. He was just looking at her, curiously, as if trying to figure her out. She left her expression calm and unreadable. He handed her the tie and she looped it over his neck below the collar, tying it in smooth, practiced movements. By the time she tightened the knot, he was smiling a little.

"You're not so bad, you know," he told her. "For a rookie."

"You're not so bad, you know," she said. "For a lout."

He grinned then, saying nothing. She tugged on his tie until he stooped down to her height. She rested her forehead against his and smiled, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."

He searched her gaze for a moment and then answered sincerely. "You're welcome."

M hopped back up on the counter and stole an apple, biting into it. "So is there anything to eat around this joint or what?"

"Hmm, how does Chinese sound?"

Her stomach growled and she groaned in delight. "Perfect."

He walked over to the oven, hit some buttons, and about thirty seconds later when he opened it, there was an entire full course meal inside. She really did love alien tech sometimes. He handed her a carton of rice and then brought everything over, which included egg rolls, beef Lo Mein, orange chicken, and shrimp in lobster sauce. She demolished the Lo Mein while he went after the chicken. He poured them both some lemonade from the fridge and they ate in companionable silence.

"This job," he said after a while. "It never gets any easier, but you do learn the tricks eventually."

"And what are the tricks?"

"Most important one is to forget everything you know. Look at everything with fresh eyes. I think given time that you will be very good at that part."

She eyed him. "You just said something nice to me."

"I'm a very nice person," he scoffed. "Everyone thinks so."

M chuckled. "If you say so."

"I am," he insisted, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I open doors and pull out chairs. I like dogs. I let someone else have the last slice of pizza."

"My God," she deadpanned. "You're a regular saint."

"Hey, you could learn a thing or two from me," he sniffed. "Between the two of us, you're even more closed off than I am."

"I am not."

"Fine," he said, his blue eyes twinkling. "Tell me something about you. Something real. Something that would not be in your file."

He leaned his chin on one hand and lifted his eyebrows expectantly. She met his cool gaze with her own, debating on if she wanted to play his game. "I went to school for ballet."

He stared at her. "Ballet?"

"Ballet," she confirmed.

"You," he said seriously. "Were a ballet dancer."

"Yes, I was."

He dragged his gaze over her. "Picturing you in a cute little tutu is the most disturbing thing I have seen tonight."

She threw her napkin at him. He ducked and grinned at her. "Were you any good?"

"I was amazing," she said.

"Hmm," he said as he reached for a peach out of the bowl behind her. "Now how do I know you're telling the truth?"

She smirked up at him and purposely didn't move out of the way. On the counter, they were closer to the same height, which was a rare advantage for her. She could see him more clearly, like the stubble that had just barely begun to grow and the faint freckles on his forehead. He seemed to notice that she didn't move, and took it as a challenge of sorts. Going after the fruit led him to stand right between her knees, and it would be the closest they'd ever been to each other thus far.

"I guess you'll just have to trust me," she murmured.

His bicep brushed her side as he grabbed the peach from the bowl and she could smell his cologne from so close. His waist brushed the inside of her knees and a little odd thrill went through her then. He stared into her eyes, unflinching, and a faint playful smirk tugged at his lips.

"Do you trust me, Agent M?"

He bit into the peach and chewed, patiently waiting on her answer. She plucked it from his hand and bit down on the other side before handing it back to him. "I do now."

Their stalemate continued for a long moment, both smiling and saying nothing, purposely waiting to see who might break first. Agent H reached up and sucked some of the peach's juice from his thumb, and Agent M's heart did the Lambada inside her chest.

Then her cell phone rang and ruined everything.

She tried not to sigh as she reached into her pocket and answered it. Maybe next time.

Someone rescue me from this movie because it’s not even out yet and I can’t stop shipping these two. 

[kenbunshokus]

it’s a long way forward

zoro/sanji | 5k words

Because the universe hates him, out of all the weird Devil Fruits out here, Sanji gets hit by one that’s absolutely laughable. Of course. A Devil Fruit powers that doesn’t allow you to smile? What kind of ridiculous power is that?

It’s funny, until it isn’t.

(ao3)

This work is commissioned by FenrirBass on twitter.

+

In Sanji’s experience, nothing good ever happened following the phrase, there’s good news and bad news.

It isn’t exactly the worst phrase in the world, but it’s definitely somewhere up there on the list. Right above, there’s a marine ship outside, and below the much dreaded, Luffy, no, get back here right no—oh shit, he just left. Most of the time it’s not even Good News and Bad News—it’s Bad News and Even Worse, Absolutely Terrible News, Fuck You.

Which is why when he wakes up in the infirmary bed and hears Chopper say, there’s good news and bad news, he dramatically announces, “I’m going to die, aren’t I.”

Chopper looks more amused than horrified by the theatrics, which is a good sign. “You’re not going to die, Sanji,” Chopper says with a smile on his face, though it quickly slips into a frown. “Unless you feel like dying. Oh my god, do you feel like dying, somebody call a doctor—”

“You’re the doctor,” he reminds the little doctor, giving him a calming pat in the head. “And don’t worry. I’ll be fine, Chopper.”

He tries to give Chopper a reassuring smile at that, but somehow finds himself unable to. It’s an odd feeling, like trying to flip a light switch at the back of his head, only to see it flip back off by itself. He brings a hand to his face, almost instinctively, and prods at it, but there’s nothing there except his skin; no bandage or weird wounds, or worse, an iron mask— 

That’s one dangerous train of thoughts, so Sanji changes the subject. “Is Ace still around?”

Chopper shakes his head. “We parted ways right after the fight.”

It’s a little bit disappointing, but not surprising—the skirmish mostly involved the Whitebeard Pirates and a pirate crew who held a grudge towards them; the Straw Hats were just tagging along, having run into Ace again after they left the Sky Islands.

Sanji feels a certain kind of wistfulness at the thought of Ace. He likes Ace—the confident way the man carries himself, yes, but mostly the way he assumes the role of a doting, loving older brother so naturally, like a second skin. Luffy clearly looks up to him, and Sanji feels a tug at his chest when he remembers Ace affectionately ruffling Luffy’s hair. 

Not that Sanji knows what a good older brother is truly like, though. Not when— 

He balks at his own thought. Get yourself together, dumbass, he mentally scolds himself—it’s rare that he thinks of them these days, and rarer still that he’d do it twice in such a short time. The attack from the other pirate crew must’ve knocked him more than he thought.

Speaking of. “So, what’s the good news?”

Chopper nervously flips through his charts, avoiding Sanji’s gaze. “You only broke your left leg.”

Sanji groans. “That’s the good news?” 

“There’s no apparent long-lasting damage,” Chopper quickly adds. “It’s a clean break, so everything will heal perfectly. It usually takes around six to eight weeks to heal a broken bone, but considering your constitution, I would put it at three weeks at worst.” 

Sanji tries to shift his left leg. There’s a small jolt of pain at the movement, but it feels dulled, and doesn’t seem so bad. It’s still going to be a pain in the ass to cook with, though. “And the bad news is…?”

Chopper sighs, and seems to steel himself for Sanji’s reaction, before finally saying with a whisper. “It’s your face…” 

Sanji feels his stomach sink. His face? What happened to his face? He looks at the way Chopper’s shoulders sag downwards, and expects the worst—a terrible gash on his face, maybe? What would the ladies think? Oh, shit, he would match with Zoro. Disgusting.

He scrambles towards the mirror, making sure he doesn’t put too much weight on his broken leg, and sees a haggard version of himself staring back from the mirror. It shouldn’t be a surprise—he just came out of a fight, after all—but he is, because there’s a tired edge on his expression that feels bone-deep, his mouth turning downwards. His eyebrows are knitted in a scowl, and he tries to smooth it away.

Except—he can’t. 

He tries to smile, this time. His lips tilt up, in a way, but the smile still looks pained. He tries to laugh, and his face just forms a nasty grimace.

“Chopper—what exactly happened to me?”

 +

 “One more time! One more time!” Luffy cheers, launching himself towards Sanji, only to be met with a kick to the face.

Sanji kicks him towards Usopp, who’s already lying face down on the ground, and they fall on top of each other with a loud, oof. He stares threateningly towards the pile. “Anyone who pulls any other stupid shit will get kicked overboard.”

Luffy and Usopp give a reluctant, oooookay, and Zoro snickers at that, but thankfully nobody dares to say anything else. 

When Chopper broke the news to the crew, they’ve mostly taken it in stride. Expression-altering fruit isn’t even in the top ten of the list of Weird Things the Straw Hats Have Come Across in the Grand Line, and Sanji doesn’t feel like telling them that it may have affected him more than just his face.

Usopp immediately tried to tell a joke, and when then failed, dove with Luffy towards Sanji to tickle him. They both earned zero laughs and two kicks to the face.

“This isn’t funny!” He scolds them.

“It’s a little funny,” Robin chimes in with a cruel, little smile on her beautiful face.

“Robin-chwan,” Sanji whines, and falls down dramatically in front of her.

“Oh!” Zoro says in mock surprise, “the face fits now.”

Sanji tries to glare, but only ends up looking sad. He feels sad too, and doesn’t know if the constant scowling makes him unhappy, or if the unhappiness forces him to permanently scowl. It’s like some kind of a fucked up vicious cycle that’s starting to wear him down.

Sanji pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself down. “Where’s the guy who did this?” he asks. 

The crew shares looks among themselves, before Luffy speaking up, “Ace took him with the rest of the other pirates for punishment.”

Forget calm. Sanji is this close to throwing himself overboard. “What!? How can we fix whatever’s wrong with me then!?” 

“Calm down, Cook,” Zoro cuts in. “We’ve interrogated him.”

“His power freezes the person’s expression in line with the memory and emotion felt when the power hits,” Chopper explains. “The devil fruit user doesn’t have control of the expression afterwards; the owner of the expression must resolve the feeling he had to release themselves from the control of the fruit. Sort of like finding a closure.” 

Usopp slowly sits up from the floor and tilts his head. “Why did you look so sad?”

“Because my leg was fucking broken?” He grits out, and Usopp yelps and scrambles away. “I don’t know, it happened pretty quickly, and it’s not like I was conscious afterwards.”

That isn’t exactly true. Sanji remembers the moment the power hit—the familiar feeling of pain mixing with the unfamiliar sensation that must’ve been unique to the devil fruit’s power, like someone shoved their hands into his chest and squeezed, ribs and bones and heart altogether. Sanji prides himself on his high constitution and pain tolerance, but he remembers the flash of fear in that moment, the few seconds when he thought, this is it. I’m going to die. 

And just like the starving kid on the rock years ago, the only thing on his mind when he was dying was—

“That’s easy, then!” Chopper says cheerfully, snapping Sanji out of his train of thoughts. “The expression stemmed from the pain from your broken leg, so as soon as your leg heals, the power will be gone, too!”

Everyone seems to agree with Chopper and considers the case closed. Sanji doesn’t want to concern them, so he plays along with it, even though he doesn’t buy that explanation even one bit. 

Judging from the way Zoro’s eyes follow him throughout the exchange, neither does the swordsman.

 +

 When Zoro walks into the galley, Sanji has been expecting him.

“Hey,” he says by way of greeting. He’s balancing himself against the kitchen counter, his broken leg bent and away from the floorboard. His other hand is stirring the soup he’s boiling for dinner. “Dinner’s not ready.”

“I’m not here for dinner,” Zoro says, direct as always. That, too, Sanji has expected. They may’ve been together for only a couple of weeks, but Sanji has known Zoro—as a nakama, as a rival, as a person—longer than that, has learned and understood him better than he understands himself in the months they sailed together.

The arms around his middle is unexpected, though.

“In case you didn’t notice, I have a meal to cook,” he teases, trying to keep the tone light. He leans into Zoro’s embrace, back pressing against the swordsman’s chest.

Zoro is clearly buying none of his false cheer, because he just grunts and buries his face into the crook of Sanji’s neck.

Sanji sighs. He puts the lid on top of the pot. “All right, I’ll bite. What is it?”

“You look like shit,” Zoro says into his shoulder. 

Sanji scoffs at his boyfriend’s bluntness. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“No. I mean it. You—” He pauses, seemingly in deep thought. Sanji tilts his head back to catch Zoro’s expression; he rarely sees Zoro so distressed, and it’s starting to worry him. “I’ve seen you fight countless of times; I know how good you are at handling pain. This… look you have on your face—this isn’t just from the hit, is it?”

Sanji can hear his own heart thumping. Count on Zoro to notice all these little things, even in the midst of a fight. Sanji racks his brain to avoid the conversation he isn’t ready to have yet, and immediately thinks of a new distraction technique he recently learned to pull off. Quite well, if he may say so himself.

He turns his body and pulls Zoro into a kiss.

It’s sloppy and messy, all lips and tongues, but it’s a good enough distraction because Zoro returns the kiss with a delighted hum. Sanji bites Zoro’s lower lip playfully, hard enough to make Zoro’s hands tighten their grip on Sanji’s sides.

“I wasn’t done,” Zoro complains once Sanji releases his lips, but it’s a weak argument, if the way Zoro’s hands have slipped towards Sanji’s ass is any indication. 

“Right,” Sanji says, and wishes he could give Zoro a cheeky smile right now. He makes it up with another kiss against the hollow of Zoro’s collarbone. “Can we just drop this for now?”

Zoro tips Sanji’s chin up with a touch of his hand, gentle, gentler than most would expect him to. The gesture makes Sanji’s heart stutter against his ribcage, and Sanji is glad when Zoro dives into another kiss, because he might have said something stupid. Like a cheesy confession or something.

“I’ll drop it,” Zoro says against his lips after a moment, but quickly adds, “for now. Only because you’re good with your mouth.”

Sanji really wishes he could make a cheeky smile. “Did Marimo just admit I was a good kisser?”

“Shut up,” Zoro says, but doesn’t disagree. Sanji counts it as a win. 

As Zoro trails kisses along the nape of Sanji’s neck, Sanji thinks the brute is just being his overreacting, overprotective self. Sanji can handle himself—always does—and he can absolutely handle something as simple as this.

 +

 He can’t handle this.

He bites down on his cigarette and spits it on the sidewalk in frustration.

It’s been three weeks since the disaster with the shitty devil fruit, and while his leg is healing at a rate most people could only dream of, whatever mumbo-jumbo affecting his face doesn’t seem to show any signs of healing.

The pitying looks have been annoying enough—he has had strangers at the market tell him to go home and rest, as if a sad face had magically transformed him into a crippling old man. He usually tries to brush them off, but it’s not easy, considering he can’t even smile back at them. Supply runs take twice longer than usual, and by the time he gets back to the ship, he usually doesn’t have enough time to do anything else.

The random bar fights add to the nuisance—there are people who think that he’s weak just because he looks like he’s going to burst into tears at any given moment, which is, fine. That’s a fair assumption. He isn’t letting anyone alive after assuming that Black Leg Sanji, out of all people, is weak, and he’s been kicked out of bars more times in the past three weeks than he’d been in a lifetime.

But then, there are the ladies.

The ladies on the islands they dock at, of course. The ones who deserve his smiles and his utmost attention, who now only get creeped out by his presence. Flowery words and grand romantic gestures don’t exactly look welcoming when your face looks like you just killed your neighbor’s dog, after all.

But the worst of it all, is the reaction from the ladies on the ship.

“Surely you didn’t mean that, Nami-san?” he says, voice almost a squeak. He tries to smile, mentally begging his facial muscles to pull the ends of his lips upwards, but all he manages is a weak grimace. 

“No, really, Sanji-kun,” she says, and at least looks a little bit guilty. “All the…” she gestures vaguely at Sanji, “swooning gets really weird with the face, so either you tone down on it or you just stay away from me and Robin for the time being.”

Preposterous. Impossible. That’s like telling him to choose between jumping into a sea of lava or sleeping on a bed of needles. He turns to Robin for support. “Robin-chan...”

”I’m sorry, Cook-san,” she says, clasping her hands together apologetically. “Maybe once your leg heals.”

”If that’s what you wish,” he concedes, and feels as miserable as he looks.

 +

 His leg heals, over time.

His face doesn’t.

Everyone starts throwing worried glances at him. Sanji tells them he’s fine, and ignores the way the grief against his heart seems to sharpen every time he fails to smile.

 +

 Sanji wakes up with a scream lodged on his throat.

He jerks upwards, the movement so sudden his hammock sways and almost tips him towards the ground. Zoro is immediately alert, thankfully, sitting up and putting his weight on the other side of the hammock, steadying it.

They’ve been sleeping in the same hammock more often than not these days. It’s a tight fit—Merry’s hammock wasn’t exactly built for two male young adults—but it’s the good kind of tight fit, the kind that allows Sanji to feel the warm press of Zoro’s body lulling him to sleep every night.

But now, with Zoro’s eyes boring into him with unnerving intensity, Sanji wishes he had slept alone just so he could hide this. 

“Another dream?” Zoro asks, almost in a whisper, so as not to wake the others up.

Sanji doesn’t see a point in lying, so he nods. “Yeah,” he admits.

“That’s the third time this week,” Zoro points out. It’s getting worse, he doesn’t say, but Sanji can hear the words anyways, hanging heavy in the space between them. 

Sanji presses a hand to his chest, feeling his heart pound loudly. He can barely remember his nightmare now, the memory quickly fading into blurred colors, but he can guess what it was about, and he hates it. Hates the way those bastards still have a hold on him even after all these years, hates the way his hands still shake at the thought of seeing his siblings again, hates the way he can still feel the phantom bruises along his torso—

“I’m fine,” he chokes out. It doesn’t sound convincing even to himself, but it’s the best Sanji can muster right now. 

He jolts in surprise when he feels Zoro’s hand on his cheek.

“’Fine,’ huh,” Zoro says. The tips of his fingers are cold and wet, and Sanji suddenly realizes that he’s been crying.

“Shit,” he says, trying to wipe the tears away, but it’s like opening the floodgate of emotions. “Shit, shit, shit,” he curses. feeling all the dense, suffocating pain he has tried to tamp down around his chest burst open and spilling all over and he can’t stop crying, what the fuck. 

He barely notices Zoro pulling him into a hug, and he sobs into Zoro’s chest as the other man rubs soothing circles at the small of his back.

He falls into a heavy, half-slumber while a part of him remains awake. The back of his eyelids burns and his ribs hurt like knives, and he thinks of Zoro, who’s never been anything but honest with him, and maybe sharing this part of his past with someone else doesn’t seem so bad.

 +

 “’I want to cook for my mother,’” Sanji says.

He waits for the words to sink in; watches Zoro slowly look up from his meal and blink. “What?” 

They have just docked at another island. It’s just the two of them on the Merry, so it’s not like there’s anyone who can overhear their conversation, but Sanji still can’t bring himself to say the words out loud in more than a whisper. “When the power hit, I thought—I thought I was going to die. And that’s the only thing I always think of whenever things go to shit,” he explains. “You’re right, it was never about the broken leg. It was, ‘I want to cook for my mother.’”

Zoro stares at him, and Sanji squirms under his scrutiny. There’s a moment of silence before Zoro asks, “you remember your mother?”

“Not much, but I remember—enough,” he says. Zoro has told him everything about Kuina, about his past, and Sanji reminds himself that the man deserves at least this much from Sanji. “I was eight when she passed away. She used to try my cooking, back when I was still learning, and I—wonder, sometimes, what she’d think if she could eat my cooking this time.” 

Zoro nods at that. Sanji is grateful that Zoro isn’t offering him some half-assed condolences, and realizes that Zoro probably knows, better than most, what it feels like to deal with the kind of grief that’s been dulled by time.

“You think this is what keeping the powers?” Zoro guesses. 

“Couldn’t think of anything else,” Sanji shrugs. “And—look, I know this is stupid, but the fantasy kind of, uh, morphed over the time, so it kind of involves cooking for my mother with my lover,” he mumbles the last part.

It takes a moment for the words to register in Zoro’s brain, and Sanji can see the exact moment it does as Zoro face breaks into a stupid smirk.

“What was that? Couldn’t really hear the last part there, Cook,” Zoro says.

Sanji feels his face heat up. “Shut up.”

“You want me to meet your mother, huh?” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Sanji half-yells. Zoro laughs, loud and free, and Sanji is secretly grateful that the swordsman didn’t freak out and break up with him or something. “Anyway,” he says loudly over the peals of laughter, “I was thinking of making her something simple, like a bento.”

The laughter finally dies down at the mention of food. Predictable, that brute. “Oh? Thought you would make one of your stupid fancy food.”

“My ‘fancy’ menus are not stupid, asshole,” Sanji retorts as he starts to gather the ingredients. “And I used to make her a lot of bento, so I thought it would be fitting if I make her one too, this time. So she has something to compare it with, you know.” 

Zoro hums in agreement, and stands up to lend a hand. He usually only helps out with the dishes, but Sanji has seen him handle his swords—he can make use of that in many ways in the kitchen. “Cut this,” he hands Zoro a knife and a cutting board with a bunch of onions on them. “Just dice them into small pieces, and don’t cut through the cutting board.”

“Hn,” for once, Zoro doesn’t argue with him.

They fall into comfortable silence, Sanji speaking out only to give the occasional instructions. There was some incident involving a burnt plate, and Zoro did accidentally cut through the first (and second) cutting board, but all things considered, everything went by smoothly.

They both stare at the finished bento almost disbelievingly.

It’s Zoro who first speaks up. “Hey, uh, Sanji’s mom,” he says. “Your son is a pain in the ass, and he’s a shit cook.”

Sanji almost kicks him for joking about this before looking up and finding Zoro stare at the bento, completely serious. “But, uh, he makes good food sometimes, and he makes the crew happy. He makes me happy.” Zoro says, rubbing at the back of his neck in a rare sign of insecurity. “So I hope you are too, wherever you are.”

For the first time in what feels like the longest time, Sanji feels a brush of warmth beneath his ribcage. It takes a few seconds for him to realize that it’s happiness, and for a moment he is content, in the middle of his kitchen with Zoro’s shoulder pressed against his. He's free, far from the floating kingdom of his childhood, and thinks he can see his mother smile, somehow.

 +

 This is the part in the fairy tales where the book ends. The characters find their closure. The princess gets a kiss from the prince. Everyone lives happily ever after.

Sanji’s life is not a fairy tale.

He is content for that moment, and then he tries to smile. He can no longer ignore the sharp ache that almost chokes him when he realizes he still can’t.

 +

 Sanji trudges towards the ship with heavy steps.

It’s been almost a week since he cooked with Zoro, and he’s far from recovering—the suffocating feeling in his chest still drags him down, and the night attacks are becoming even more common, rearing its ugly head almost every night now.

It reminds him too much of the early days after his escape, when he was still a little kid with a too-empty stomach and phantom bruises along his limbs, and Sanji is suddenly hit with a visceral feeling of disgust towards his own weakness. Disgust towards himself. 

He’s too preoccupied with his own thoughts that he doesn’t realize the eerie silence that’s blanketing around Merry, much to quiet for a crew like them, and the shadows behind the galley windows, as he swings the door open.

He’s greeted with a confetti to the face.

Literally.

It hit him right in the nose, and he’s rubbing his face as he hears Nami’s exasperated, “You’re supposed to aim it over his head, stupid!”

”Ow, sorry, Nami!” Luffy says in a tone that’s clearly a failed attempt of a whisper. “Stop yelling, I thought we were gonna surprise him!”

“I believe it’s too late for that,” Robin’s voice comes out, and at that, someone flips the ligth switch on.

There’s food on every available surface. A huge bowl of rice on the counter, surrounded by plates of vegetables and meat, and on the kitchen table is a towering, multi-layered cake that even Sanji admits looks pretty impressive. He's seen everyone's cooking at least once; knows that the meals are mostly Usopp and Robin's doing, and the cake has Nami written all over it.

There’s a large banner hanging over the ceiling with the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SANJI, lovingly hand-painted and decorated by Luffy’s familiar scrawls.

He realizes, with a start, that in the middle of all the mess with the stupid devil fruit, Sanji has forgotten his own birthday.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” The crew cheers. It’s barely in unison, Luffy’s drawl from having his mouth pulled by Nami clashing with Chopper’s over-excited applause, and it’s still the most perfect thing Sanji has ever heard.

”How did you—“ he sputters, flustered. He can't believe that the crew remembers. Hell, he can't believe they even knew—he never told them about his birthday, has long forgotten what it felt like to be grateful about the birthday he shares with those bastards. “I never...”

 "Swordsman-san was generous enough to share the information with us," Robin says, ignoring Zoro's protest in the background that no, there's no way he bothered to memorize the Shit Cook's birthday, shut up.

And in that moment, with his crew bickering lightly around him, celebrating him, everything suddenly clicks into place.

He broke his leg, but he’d felt worse pain. He’d assumed he was thinking about his mother, but he was wrong—the dreams have clued him in on what this really was about.

As if sensing Sanji’s shift in mood, Luffy cranes his neck from the counter he’s perched on. The strawhat appears in Sanji’s vision before the owner does, but they both do, eventually, one side of the brim tipped low over Luffy’s right eye.

”Do you like it?” Luffy asks.

Sanji is chewing on Nami’s cake, but he thinks Luffy isn’t asking about that. Not exactly.

He doesn’t take more than a second to answer, “yes.”

”Are you still sad?”

Sanji takes a moment to consider that. There’s a steady ache around his heart, and maybe it’s always been there, now that he thinks about it. The devil fruit power may have intensified the feelings, but it couldn’t work on something that wasn’t there. “I think I always am,” he admits, voice low, remembering the lonely little kid with the iron mask and the prison bars. But then he thinks of the party set up just for him, of the Straw Hats, and adds, “but not right now, no.”

“Not right now,” Luffy repeats.

“I think you’ve made it better. All of you made it better.”

Luffy grins at that, sunny and wide. “You’re happy.” It’s a statement, not a question.

Sanji watches the cacophony around him. “I’m happy,” he agrees.

”You know what people do when they’re happy?” Luffy says, and he pulls his hat off his head and places it, steady, on Sanji’s head. “They smile. You should smile, Sanji.”

Sanji feels the way the strawhat fits around him, its warmth snug against his heart; and he does, finally, smile. 

 +

 Sanji remembers being a little kid.

He remembers the dark prison cell, the pungent smell of the iron mask, the way the bruises on his skin left ugly marks like a brand on his heart even after they disappear. He remembers that sometimes they would dock at an island, and he would sneak away, watch the island’s locals from afar. He remembers seeing another little kid, playing with his siblings, and thinks, I want a family like this.

He also remembers the day the devil fruit power hit. That day there were two attacks—one directed at him, and another at Luffy. He remembers seeing Ace, stepping in front of Luffy, pulling him away. He remembers the way Ace protectively wrapped his arms around Luffy.

Sanji remembers being a little kid; he also remembers being an adult, years away from being a little kid, but still feeling like one—seeing Ace and Luffy and the way they don’t hurt each other, and thinking, I want a family like this.

 +

 “I have a bed time story.” He says as soon as he climbs into the crow’s nest.

Zoro continues to lift his weight. “I’m not sleeping anytime soon.” 

“Once upon a time,” Sanji continues, ignoring him. “There was a little kid. He was young and small and lonely. His father was made of gold and his mother was a ghost; he had siblings, but they only learned how to hurt others.”

Zoro pauses at that. He slowly lowers his weight to the ground.

Sanji doesn’t meet his eyes. “When he was eight, his family had enough of him and threw him into a dark cell, hoping he would die and rot with the rats. He didn’t,” he says, and pauses, feeling his voice waver and pushes through, “but sometimes he thinks a little part of him did.”

He looks up to meet Zoro’s eyes. “The kid’s name was Vinsmoke Sanji.”

Zoro takes large strides across the crow’s nest and pulls him into a hug, steady hands wrapped around his shoulders. Sanji breathes into the nape of his neck.

“You know what’s the most messed up thing?” He laughs, but it’s the kind of that grates at the back of his throat. He swallows. “The kid thought he deserved it, for the longest time. He thought they were the family he deserved.”

He feels Zoro’s grip around him tighten. “They’re not—that doesn’t sound a lot like family.”

Sanji closes his eyes. “That doesn’t, yeah.”

He watches the rise and fall of Zoro’s chest—a steady, calming beat. And then Zoro says, “The kid found his family, though, in the end.” He pauses, before adding. "A real one." 

Sanji thinks of Usopp’s nervous chuckle whenever someone calls out on his lies and Chopper’s little giggles whenever someone makes a stupid joke; of Robin’s barely-there smiles that mean a lot more than an insincere laughter ever would, of Nami’s grin whenever he makes her favorite drinks. He thinks of Luffy’s rubbery smile, stretched across his face, and Zoro, his partner, his rival, his equal—who holds him like he means something.

The ache around his heart remains. It’s been there, for a long time, and maybe it’ll always be there. But when he looks up now he can see the grinning faces of his crew, and when he tries to tilt his lips into a smile, it does.

“The kid found his family,” Sanji agrees, and leans into the embrace. It's not a happily ever after, but it's enough.

[zhangedward]

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If You Ever Come Back Chapter Five

Chapter 5: Everybody wanna steal my girl

 Warning: Attempted Murder, Blood, Unwanted groping

       Lotor smiled at down at his wife as she stared at herself in a mirror. The dress was just as elegant as the one she wore for their wedding. She looked just as ethereal if not more. Today she wore a dark purple dress that reached the floor with a slit that went from the ground to about where her fingers would rest by her sides. The top was a halter type that was held up by a purple metal that laid around the base of her neck. It was long sleeved, almost like gloves, but exposed her freckled shoulders. Her back was also exposed by the dress but covered by the cape connected to the dress. She also wore a deep purple eyeshadow, masquerade, dark red-almost-purple lipstick and light blush. She looked amazing if a little uncomfortable.

       “Maybe I should wear heels.” She mumbled moving to take off the fancy black sandal-like shoes she wore. Lotor stopped her.

       “You’re fine the way you are. Besides my people haven’t had a proper queen in 10,000 years.” Lotor stood up straight an offered Pidge an arm. She took a moment to take him in.

       He wore black armor that made him look regal and powerful.

       “It’s not fair, you get armor and a sword, and I get a tight dress and a dagger.” She mumbled. Lotor chuckled.

       “You’re right it’s not, Kitten. But I just wanted an excuse to show off how lovely you are.” Pidge rolled her eyes but took the arm offered to her.

       “So today, you become an emperor.” She looked at him in awe. “But, if you are a bad leader I’m rejoining Voltron and coming back with Green to give you a lesson.” He chuckled at her joke. “Don’t laugh I’m being serious.”

       “I know.” Lotor led her to the throne room. Zarkon and Haggar waited for the couple there.

       “Lotor.” Zarkon greeted.        “Father.”

       “I see you brought the Green Paladin.”

       “I know you and Haggar missed the wedding, but she is my wife.” Pidge shifted uncomfortably under Haggar’s gaze, it was the first time she faced the Altean without armor.

       “As long as she doesn’t distract you from your duties.” Haggar turned her attention to Lotor. “I suppose you two have already begun the process of making an heir?”

       “Can we please not talk about that right now!” Pidge blushed bright red.

       “If we have, it’s none of your business what my wife and I do,” Lotor smirked. “Now, I have a coronation to attend. Come on, Kitten.”

        The coronation went off without a hitch. Now Pidge just had to survive the reception afterword. She felt so out of place. Compared to the rest of the party goers she was short. Most of them were wearing military uniforms. And they kept glaring at her, she didn’t know if it was because she defeated their past leader, was married to their current leader [and wasn’t Galra], or just because she was a paladin.

       She sat down at one of the many tables while Lotor mingled.

       “Empress Kathrine, it an honor to meet you.” One of the high up soldiers considered a war hero walked up to her.

       “Call me Pidge. May I ask your name?”

       “Goyil, at your service.” He bowed to her.

       “Nice to meet you too, Goyil. You know, you’re the first person to approach me. Thank you.”

       “Not everyone is confident enough to approach our new Emperors wife.”        “They shouldn’t have to be. I was just a regular citizen on my planet.”

       “It’s also because a few of us soldiers made a bet on who could woo you and I got first pick.”

       “Is that a joke?” Goyil put a hand on Pidge’s thigh.

       “Come on, just go down easy, we won’t tell Lotor.”

       “Take your hand off me right now!” Pidge warned.

       “Or what? You don’t have your fancy ship or Bayard. And who do you think everyone will believe? A trusted High Ranking Galra soldier or the alien who married into royalty after being on the rebel side for years.” Pidge grabbed his hand and threw him onto the table.

       “Don’t EVER touch me like that again!” Everyone around her froze.

       “You think you’re so above me? I worked for my position, you slept your way into yours.” Pidge went to punch him only to have someone grab her hand. Lotor pulled her back, drug her to his throne, and sat her down.

       “Why did you stop me!? Someone has to teach him a lesson!” Pidge struggled to fight Lotor’s force that kept her sat down.

       “Stay here. I’ll deal with him.” Lotor growled. “But first I have to prove something to people like him.”

       “And what is that?”

       “You are mine.” He growled. Pidge opened her mouth to say something but Lotor slammed his mouth onto hers. The force of it caused Pidge’s head to hit the throne. When Lotor broke it Pidge was panting for air. Lotor wiped the spit from his face before kissing Pidge on the cheek. “Now stay.” Pidge could only nod, the pain in the back of her head had her a bit dazed. Lotor marched over to Goyil. “You had some very unsavory things to say to my wife. Do you dare repeat them?”

       “All of us are thinking it, there’s only one reason you’d marry someone below you-“ Lotor grabbed the soldiers throat.

       “I’ll have you know my wife and I didn’t do anything until after we were married, at her insistence. And I will not tolerate any disrespect towards her.” Lotor threw Goyil at the foot of the throne. “Now apologize, and after that, I don’t want to see you near her ever again!”

       “I-I’m sorry, Pidge.”

       “You do not get the honor of calling her that! She is Empress Kathrine to whelps like you!”        “My sincere apologies Empress Kathrine.” Goyil picked himself up and ran. A few other soldiers and a commander were hot on his heels. Pidge watched in dazed wonder.

       “I want them imprisoned,” Lotor ordered the nearest, highest ranking officer.

       “Would you like them killed, sire?” The Officer asked nervously.

       “No, I shall decide on their punishment later.” Lotor returned to Pidge. He noticed her dazed, but slightly pained expression. “Katie, are you alright?”

       “I hit my head.” Lotor checked the back of her head, sure enough, a bruise was beginning to form. Lotor picked her up Bridal style and cradled her to his chest.

       “The rest of you should enjoy the festivities, I’ll be helping my wife retire for the night, but I will be back.”

        Lotor laid Pidge down in bed.

       “I’m sorry, love. Does it hurt?”

       “Hmmm? I’m fine.” Pidge curled up on the large bed, making her seem even smaller.  Lotor stroked her hair, being mindful of the bruise he caused.

       “You need to let me know if I hurt you.” He mumbled. He wasn’t even sure if she heard him. He quickly changed her into some comfortable pjs before making his exit. “Kitten, I’m locking you in, so don’t panic.”

       After mingling at the party for a few hours he returned to his room. As soon as he turned to the hall he saw the door was wide open. He ran towards it.

       When he got to his room he saw a figure holding a pillow over Pidge’s face, and her arms limp by her side. He drew his sword in a blind rage and killed the figure. After he threw the body off Pidge he felt for a pulse.

       It was weak but there. He was so glad he learned human CPR from Lance. Soon Pidge’s eyes opened and she started gasping for air.

       “Katie! What happened?”

       “I-I don’t know, I kept drifting in and out of sleep and I heard the door open, and I couldn’t breathe.” Lotor nodded and cradled her to his chest. He glared at the body on the ground.

       “Pidge, go change and bathe. I’ll handle everything.” He gently ushered her into the bathroom and grabbed her a change of clothes. He changed the sheets and cleaned the blood off the floor the best he could. He got rid of the body and investigated how the hitman could’ve gotten into the room in the first place. He checked the doors security system and deleted everyone who wasn’t himself from that door. He reentered the room.

       Pidge hadn’t left the bathroom yet. Lotor ran in to find her. She was in the bath staring blankly as she washed the blood off. He walked over and removed the armor from his arms and torso. He worked some soap into her hair. She blinked and whipped around, she blushed as soon as she saw it was Lotor.

       “It’s ok, Kitten, just let me spoil you.” His voice was low and soft. His fingers worked the shampoo into her hair carefully.

       “I… I shouldn’t be reacting like this. I fought in a war… I should be used to people trying to kill me.”

       “The war is over though, and whoever is after you used underhand methods to attempt to take you from me.” He placed a kiss on her shoulder, ignoring the taste of soap.

       He helped bathe her and watched her get dressed. He picked her up bridal style and set her on the bed. He changed the rest of his armor out for a pair of PJ pants, leaving his shirt off.

       Lotor laid down next to his wife. Pidge started to doze off as Lotor stroked her hair. Her breathing was starting to even. He kissed her lips gently. He stroked her cheek. He listened to her soft breaths. He wished he could fall asleep with her.

[angisam]

Your wild side

I am not going to lie, my English is bad, to save time and effort I have used translators and I have reviewed them. I think it’s ok all.

tag: underfell , wolvesfell ( To create for Sanspar)

diferent universe, maybe gore, bad language

note: 1º I writting something and forgotme if there are something misspelled

Ao3

tumblr: 1

CHAPTER 2- Fight brother

His arm hurt like hell, if not  were for the glove, probably the bite would have ripped the whole arm off in a single moment. Despite the large hardness of the leather was no match for the powerful Sans's bite had propitiated without warning, since when Sans had his teeth so sharp? Those teeth had gotten to the bone, felt a sharp pain in the Radius, but apparently nothing too serious.

Meanwhile the other skeleton remained absent for some time looking at the impenetrable wall of blue light. When he returned, he ran off with the intention of surrounding the high wall of bones, but before following a few more steps, two bones of the sides appeared, cutting off him way, forming a cross in front of his nostrils.

Both monsters looked at each other, both of them knew that they wouldn't allow each other's wishes to be fulfilled.

The tension was felt in the icy wind of the forest. Neither of them made any movement for a long period of time thinking about their future movements until Papyrus decided to take initiative, potent and high blue bones left the ground forming a cage between him and his brother surrounding the small treeless zone in which they stay. The Blue magic needed an extra magical consumption but the Great and Powerful Papyrus wasn't a big effort. The action was unpredictable for his older brother and for a few seconds the horror could be read in their eyesockets before the impotence of some quick escape.

"I SAID YOU, BROTHER, I WILL NOT LOSE YOU AGAIN AND LESS IN THIS STATE" - Sans only responded by grunting him and giving to murderous look, he was not going to put it easily.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Papyrus was heading for the ruins, Sans' sentry station was the first of all Snowdin's checkpoint, as Commander and superior of the area had to check that everything was correct, so one of the daily tasks that he had to perform was Checking that all the puzzles were properly calibrated and checking that everyone was doing their job properly. Unlike the other sentinels his brother didn't take his work seriously, he took advantage that the boss was his own brother, and whenever Papyrus lectured him about the importance of his position, he simply argued that for more than 10 years no human had  get out of the ruins. Absurd! That was no excuse for such a vagrancy almost always that he was going to make his inspection was found asleep or simply disappeared and in case it was little he could never keep his position in good condition. Unforgivable! All full of scraps of junk food and those stupid bottles of mustard! How could I even drink such a concoction?! Each day that Papyrus had to check his brother he simply felt that he could put fire through his mouth, he simply couldn't bear his disorder, it seemed that he was doing it to annoy him. If I even created a magical tornado for the garbage to spin around when he told him that didn't want to see the crap of his room on the floor anymore. What he didn't know is that this day would be different from the others, when he finally arrived as expected Sans wasn't in his position as he corresponded when he went to inspect the sentry station he found a lump curled up on himself lying, below Where he was supposed to be watching.

For a moment Papyrus thought his soul would explode from the rage inside. "YOU FUCKING SHIT!" HOW YOU CAN DARE TO...! "- his screams were accompanied with a pull up grabbing the hood of his brother's jacket but before he could follow his reprisals I noticed that something strange was occurring and a second later only felt a kick similar to a kick in his spine. Papyrus took a few steps back, not before seeing a Sans acting and looking... different. But he couldn't see clearly enough before he ran out into the woods. He didn't understand what had just happened, he knew something strange was happening, but the confusion began to turn into fury. He would later teach his brother what he meant by the word "respect" couldn't tolerate such insolence no matter how familiar they were was still a superior. At night Sans didn't return for dinner or sleep. Two days later Sans was still missing and had reported apparitions of a strange monsters around the forest. It couldn't be a simple coincidence.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

The dialogue did not promise anything different so far but there was that try again.

"SANS, UNLESS YOU START CO-OPERATION I GOING TO-" Sans barked aggressively as he leapt forward as a warning. "OK THEN" In situations like these Payrus liked to use red magic always provided an extra damage to anyone who touched it but Sans was one of the weakest monsters that could exist in the underground, although eventually with form His LOVE also grew so his statistics still had a HP well below average, When Papyrus was kid they check his brother to know his statistics, can't be said that he wasn't surprised what he discovered, very few people knew this fact or they suspected it and those who had taken advantage of this knowledge only served to increase his EXP. Luckily Sans had a high defense and the monsters could hold out much longer as long as the attacker had no intention of doing any real damage. In other words. He must weaken Sans by any means. The cage may have been small but it was wide enough to maneuver without any problems. Both skeletons stared at each other silently without making any movement. Who would give in? Who would start the shift? After two incredibly unnecessary minutes Papyrus decided he had already waited too long. He began to walk forward while he summoned a spear-like bone, under normal conditions his bones had at least one sharp side, but for this situation a standard bone was more than sufficient.

After seeing the aura of confidence that the subject in front of him expelled throughout his being panic became visible in the wild skeleton and wasn't so sure to continue  facing him,  he really never wanted it just wanted to get out of there but couldn't those Blue bones ... he knew perfectly well what would happen if he touched one of those. The enemy was getting closer and couldn't keep going back and keeping distances eternally sooner or later it would reach him he had to think of something and fast .... Yes, there was his escape route!

After taking the first steps Papyrus was soon to see that all the fighting spirit had disappeared from his brother's position, it is not the first time he saw a monster trying to pull a bluff to hide the fear or some simply to Take advantage of others. The latter were really fun to get the fumes down. If Sans was afraid to fight in that case would be much simpler to knock, perfect.

Error fatal

Before he understood what had happened Papyrus was on the ground trying to remove the dangerous teeth from his face. Thanks to his reflexes he was able to protect himself in time, before Sans was thrown by the neck he gave time to place his spear between him and the neck of his brother, he had both hands occupied trying to move away the rabid face while the monster above was still trying to rip his face off a bite while trying to scratch his armor with his new claws. Well maybe it was not a bluff after all.

Papyrus was easily released, he simply had to slide the weight of Sans to one side to get rid of him. Sans again respected the distance between the two as he continued to grunt. Papyrus quickly stood up and waved his weapon toward his enemy.

"NYEHEHE, THEN REALLY WILL BE FOR THE EVILS FORM" - actually this would be like a child's play, in Snowdin, the only real guards were wise dogs how they acted when they weren't patrolling, they might all have different tactics when fighting like Sentinels but the fights they made were predictable and unorganized in their movements, attacked without thinking. Over time Papyrus understood that it was some "games" to prove who were the strong of the litter but for Papyrus only served to see who the most idiot. Whatever it was, Sans acted like a dog rather than a monster rightly. The first attack was unexpected and embarrassing for a commander of his level but it was something not to be repeated again.

Time to get serious

He speared the spear to the right of his body and ran to his brother, striking the right flank of Sans. This simply eludes him with a leap letting the bone under his paws. This surprised him but not for that he would stop his next blow and again the same thing happened, the next 3 attempts happened exactly the same Sans only kept dodging his attack. Papyrus stepped back.

"LEAST YOU DON'T FORGETED YOU SKILL TO EVADE " - the other just stared into the eyes of the tall skeleton in front of him, those wide red-orange eyes wide open for anything.

He was preparing to launch another more coordinated attack than the previous one when it was found that the other one has thrown a race towards its direction, quickly is replaced to defensive way but Sans simply happened to his side following another path, running towards .. .. The mound!. The small mountain of rocks had remained inside the magic cell forming a perfect way for anyone to jump on them. The other was already jumping the rocks. I could think of only one solution. Increase the height of the blue bars. When he finish growing the bones, he hear the hollow sound followed by a body falling on the snow. Without intending it, it is managed to knock down its objective.

[ssteezyy]

Ask the Vet: Dr. Kris Answers August’s Questions

Welcome to our regular “Ask the Vet With Dr. Kris” segment! Once a month, Dr. Kris answers as many of your questions as he can, and you can leave new questions for him in a comment.

Dr. Kristopher Chandroo is a veterinarian, scientist, photographer, animal welfare advocate, and creator of Stress to Success (STS): The Essential Guide to Medicating Your Feisty, Grumpy or Reluctant Cat.  Dr. Kris wants  your cats to be twenty years old. And counting! And he wants to provide medication and therapy to them in a way that respects the bond between cat and human.

Here are Dr. Kris’ answers to some of your questions asked in June. If your question didn’t get answered here, Dr. Kris will answer them on his own website in the future. Subscribe to his updates so you’ll be notified when the answers are published.

Are “fixed” male and female cats identical in behavior?

Tom: I have a general knowledge type of question, not a medical question, but I don’t know who else to ask. Are “fixed” male and female cats identical in behavior or do some gender-related traits remain. For example, relating to outdoor cats, males have much larger ranges than female cats. Does neutering make any difference to things like that, or is a male cat still a male cat except for ability to reproduce, and ditto for females?

Ooohhhh good question.

I would not be surprised if there are gender specific traits that are still there, despite the sterilization. I would go further and say there are individual personality differences that are intact despite sterilization.

Would be a cool study to be apart of!

Dr. Kris

Helping cats with arthritis

Beth: Dr. Kris, I really enjoy your monthly Q&As and love the idea of you doing an “arthritis masterclass”. My current cats do not have an issue, but both of my previous cats seemed to have issues during their last years (17 and 18). We moved things around, changed the litter box set up(s), put steps & kid stools near the windows, and basically tried to make it easier for them to get around and still be cats. It would be so beneficial to know what to look for and how to you tell if your cat has arthritis. What are the early signs? Is there anything we can do to prevent it? What are the options with medicine and homeopathy? What else can we do to help them so that they can still enjoy being cats? Thanks for all that you do.

Ok, I hear this loud and clear! Arthritis masterclass is in development! It’s going to take a while but I hope it is worthwhile for everyone who is managing this for their cats.

Dr. Kris

Cat with advanced kidney disease

Kate: I have a senior cat with advanced chronic kidney disease. She only has one functioning kidney; however she is still playful and full of spunk for a 15 year old cat. I am not a fan of feeding those “prescription” foods. I am currently giving her premium wet food with the phosphorus dry matter basis below 1%. I understand the lower the phosphorus level, the better. I also understand that I should watch her sodium levels in her food. My question is (1) What is the acceptable sodium percentage on a dry matter basis? (2) What other minerals, vitamins and amino acids should I monitor in her food on a dry matter basis percentage?

Hi Kate,

Phosphorous and sodium for sure are the ones to watch for. Then I want awesome sources of vitamin B12. Most importantly, I want a stable body weight – and I’ll take a stable body weight no matter what the micronutrient content of the food is (assuming it’s a quality food).

When you can get a constant, healthy body weight, they just tend to do better overall. It’s associated with longevity as well – so most of my nutritional goals are aimed at trying to eliminate maladaptive weight loss.

So my main tool in figuring out if I’m doing things right nutritionally?

A weigh scale.

You need one that measures accurately in their weight range – so a small pet or baby scale.

If their body condition is working out, you are doing it well!

Dr. Kris

Side effects of Gabapentin?

Melody Carnell: Hi Dr. Kris, it’s me again with the Gabapentin for arthritis question. I will talk with my vet again about the 100 mg of Gabapentin being too high but since then, Sweet Pea (maybe 10-12 years of age said my vet because the arthritis in her rear spine and hips shows prominently on her xray) has been taken off the prednisone and is now still on the 100 mg Gabapentin and had her first acupuncture which from the look on her face was mind blowing! It appeared to work quite well! I have never seen her in such bliss, made me cry, she deserves it!!!

My question now is, I’ve heard long term use of prednisone in cats has a high risk of causing diabetes, does that also apply to Gabapentin? It that harmful with long term use? Should I just try the acupuncture alone? Do you know of any non-medication things I can do for her to help with the arthritis? I have asked my vet about the Assisi Loop but she’s not familiar with it and wants to read up on it before prescribing. Thanks for any assistance!

Hi Melody!

That is great she responded so well with the gabapentin.

With most drugs you are just trying to use the lowest amount to give you the best result (the lowest amount meaning none for some cats, or it can be relatively high for others).

You drop the dose, stay there for two weeks, and see if we are looking just as good. Then you drop the dose again. Wait another two weeks. Of course you want to check with your vet or at least advise them that you want to do this.

Diabetes isn’t a typical side effect of gabapentin though. Being really really overweight checks that box.

Thanks for letting me know how she did – and I’ll keep you comments in mind as I start to write out an arthritis guide!

Dr. Kris

Alternative pain medications for arthritis

Jenny French: Your arthritis masterclass would fill a void, since cats are living longer and arthritis is so common and yet drugs often seem to be the only answer. I want to understand everything I can about pain management. I’m looking for alternatives to the pain medication (Buprenex) the vet gave me for my 14-year-old female. X-rays revealed arthritis along her spine. Interestingly, the images suggested her body seems to have fused the vertebrae, which would explain her stiff gait. She takes Amlodopine for high blood pressure but nothing else. A recent blood test showed all other values within healthy range. I’ve tried to make the home comfortable for her. I pick her up with a lot of support. She is very sensitive to touch on the lower back, so I avoid stroking her there. Buprenex makes her sleepier than usual, even for a senior cat, and wobbly too. And is long-term use advisable anyway? I need other options to try. She’s a loving cat and I want to repay that love with the best life possible.

Hi Jenny!

Ok, thanks for your comments – they really help formulate what can go into an arthritic masterclass. Keep those coming people!

You are completely right – our cats are living longer (average age has come up since the 90s), so we will expect to see more arthritis. People (and vets) are also better at knowing what it looks like – and are more willing to treat it nowadays.

As she is 14, it is completely understandable that you don’t want her gorked out on buprenex for the rest of her life. It’s a reliably safe drug and I have had patients on that off and on for years, but it can cause the drowsiness you are observing.

There are plenty of options though that don’t have drowsiness as a side effect – tell your vet you want a less drowsy choice. With every new choice you make, you will have some who call it the devil, and some who call it their savior for their cat. It really depends.

There isn’t a perfect drug, but there is a process that you can figure out what works best for your cat as an individual. That’s what I’m hoping the masterclass does – help people figure out faster what works for their cat. Thanks,

Dr. Kris

How to acclimate cat to getting topical flea treatment

Patricia: Hi Dr. Kris, can you recommend a good way to get my cats acclimated to taking the flea drops on their neck? I got scratched up pretty good the last time. I have to get through this as my cats are indoor and my dog is indoor outdoor. Protection against fleas and other pests is important. Please advise.

First, I’ll assume you’re using a product that doesn’t bother them or is noxious in any way. I’ve used thousands of doses of topical revolution out west in flea country, and I’ve only had two cats resent the feeling as the liquid is absorbed.

Assuming the product you are using is good, you need to use it, and they just hate the experience of it, then you want to do something called counter-conditioning.

What that means is that something that they do not like is paired with something that they DO like, and if you can do it the right way, they learn to tolerate or even enjoy what they previously disliked.

It REALLY helps if they love treats or food, and they are hungry before you do this.

Here are the steps, assuming they are like the stereotypical Walt Disney fat kid in a candy shop (all the Disney movies of the 90’s have them).

1) In your left hand, present the food/treat etc. Give it to them. 2) While they are eating it, just touch the back of their neck/shoulders. 3) Take away the food, and stop touching their neck/shoulders. 4) Give them back the food/treat, and start touching their neck shoulder. 5) Repeat every 3-5 seconds.

Can you do that? If your cat lets you do it, you then take the tip of the applicator (the plastic part unopened so no liquid comes out), touch them with that in exactly the same way as written above.

If they can handle that, then there is a good chance you can give the topical medication with them feeling much better at it.

If at any point it doesn’t work, go slower and back to the previous step where they didn’t care about what you were doing back there. I should make a video for this – it’s so much easier to show that tell. Wait – I DID make a video showing this (Stress to Success) although I would try what I’ve written above first.

Good luck!

Dr. Kris

20-year-old cat in hospice care

Louise Ayers: I would love to hear about those senior cats. It may be to late for mine by the time you respond, but my vet I trust explicitly said I will always want to do whatever I can or beat myself up if I don’t try. My female cat is in hospice care with us, and each day may be her last. 20 is a good number to live, she has never eaten table food, or treats, just her good quality cat food, now all wet. This has been her choice. It doesn’t make it any easier as she is a very picky eater. She has in the last couple months developed a tumor that has grown rapidly under her ribcage. She had a biopsy on it and though large it doesn’t spread to her other organs. When we started the procedure to remove it and find out for sure where it was attached, we did the initial bloodwork. We found out she had anemia, with a value of 15, 2 days later it was 16 after the liver supplement, then Saturday it had dropped to 8 so we put her on Buprenorphine to help her pass normally, as we figured it was only a matter of days. She is still eating and drinking, though seems nothing has progressed so far that she is ready to go. Our bed has been on the floor for 2 months, her cat tree was disassembled to a floor model now, so she wouldn’t hurt herself jumping. Just wanted to say, which ever path you choose for your baby has to be the right one for you. Do not grieve and wonder what if, do the best you can.

Louise I have a special post for you titled “When You Don’t Want to Say Good Bye” – I’ll put that up soon on my website. In the meantime, you may want to watch this video.

Sue Lamothe: Would you recommend Lysine as a supplement for a 6 yr old cat diagnosed FIT + ? ( never been sick)……if so, which Lysine brand / form do you prefer? thank you

Lysine is one of those things that it almost never hurts to try (always nice if it comes in a treat form so they voluntarily eat it – less stress for them that way). Does it work?

Some people say yes, some say no.

A lot of us still use it as it could help, and side effects – I’ve yet to see one.

If it’s stressful for your cat to consume it, then I probably would look for alternatives though.

Cheers,

Dr. Kris

Sonja R Copley: I have a blind cat that started having what I called night terrors, take to vet,put him on phenobarbital, didn’t help much. Finally videoed it, took him back, this time they put him on lorazepam, which did help alot. But then he went right into one when I gave him the pill.the episodes have changed, you can visibly see him getting shocks, can’t afford neurologist, started giving him CBD OIL, it helps, doesn’t seem to get shocks when I do. It’s heartbreaking to see him go through these.any ideas?

Sorry to hear this Sonja.

I’m going to assume that your cat has an illness with his nervous system based on the treatment choices here. But there are many pieces to this puzzle that I don’t know from his description.

He’s the kind of kitty that I would need to lay hands on to really appreciate what he might be going through.

It’s ok if you can’t afford the neurologist.

You and your vet can make some educated guesses about what this might be, and trial and error things from there – as long as he’s not suffering, right? He should be eating, and recovering from those fits pretty quickly if things are going smooth enough.

Some pets can seizure, then they go on with their lives, and other than the seizures, they are perfectly normal. Other cats, especially if they are geriatric, start to seizure but it’s not good when they start doing it at an older age.

I know it’s really hard to see this happen. Many cats need to try several different medications before you find the right combination that works, so you can ask them what other options you have in addition to the lorazepam.

Good luck,

Dr. Kris

Do you have a question for Dr. Kris? Leave it in a comment and he’ll answer it next month!

The post Ask the Vet: Dr. Kris Answers August’s Questions appeared first on The Conscious Cat.