#fuckin salamanders instead

[elkkiel]

hi i'm drunkkiel who wants to make out (no eye contact tho because I will cry‼️‼️🤩👍)

[liminalhymnal]

The most unrealistic thing about Dungeon Meshi is the fact that everyone treats Laios as a certified freak solely because he likes eating monsters. So what if it ain't a normal cow or chicken? If you told me you were serving up some Fried Griffin and naturally flame-broiled Salamander Sliders I'd be fuckin getting DOWN on some plates!!!! "Ooh weh weh but its weird to eat monsters instead of just killing them–" Then get the FUCK outta flavortown because Senshi got those eleven dwarven herbs-and-spices and you will NOT shame me into missing out on a dining experience that Gordon Ramsay WISHES he could replicate

[phoenix-before-the-flame]

do you ever think about how because Natsu is the son of Igneel (King of the fire dragons) and Zeref (Emperor of Alvarez) that makes him a prince twice over. all these fics with dragon Natsu and princess Lucy are DOING IT WRONG. Prince Natsu. he's the worst prince ever. I love him.

Let it be known first and foremost, I am an Alvarez Emperor Zeref disliker. Truly it is one of his plot points that I #DoNotCareFor because it feels like such an out of place revelation and something I personally think doesn't mesh well with Zeref as a character as well as his characterization up until that point in the story.

I only ever think about it or care for it in the context of jokes lol (Hello Zeref in Emperor's New Groove au )

HOWEVER

I am fuckin always ready to jump on board about him having that level of (supposed) regality from Igneel's side of things, not even in an AU context but also within the scope of canon as well.

(also i've always been so intrigued by Igneel's title of Fire Dragon King. Is it a literal title? Does that mean dragons have established political systems in FT that's divided based on element? Or is it a more self imposed title that Igneel gained as a moniker of his strength and feats he accomplished? Yes i do think too much about things.)

But if even just once, that title was used in relation and more importantly extended to Natsu in canon, where instead of being called 'The Fire Dragon King's Son' he gets his own lil version?

Come, take my hand imagine with me.

Like Flame Prince or some shit that could've been dropped during Natsu's first encounter with Atlas Flame who could say it in exclamation when he learns of Igneel's connection to Natsu, or even Acnologia using a title for Natsu to mock him and in turn to mock Igneel as well. If anything like that even close had happened in canon?

Well then brother I would've just straight up passed away.

(also you ever. you ever think about Natsu's nickname. Salamander. You ever think about its symbolic meaning. A flame resistant being but it isn't a dragon. A false dragon, which is how Acno in general sees the slayers. Also salamanders are known for longevity which with the 400 yr plot point surroundin Natsu gives it more flavour. I know this bit has nothin to do with your ask but uhhhh I love nicknames. I love nicknames with double meanings and i just wanted to say that ok.)

[fallen029]

So Soon

She was doing her makeup.

Early that morning.

She was standing in Laxus Dreyar's bathroom, leaning over the sink as she did her makeup while the man himself strode into the bathroom, mostly unconcerned with her presence it seemed as, slipping passed her, he only had one thing to grumble at her.

"Didn't fuckin' use all the hot water, did you?" he questioned gruffly. "Demon?"

And she only hummed in reply, not a true answer, but enough of one it seemed as he only took to muttering under his breath as, after turning the faucet for the shower, he began to strip down.

It was all so casual.

Perhaps too casual.

Mirajane wasn't certain when it got like that. It felt rather sudden as she considered it that day, watching the man in the mirror as he stood there for a moment, nude, and shivering before he stepped into the shower stall. When he felt her eyes, he glanced over his shoulder with his typical void gaze.

"Can never be too clean," he remarked to the woman with a raising of one eyebrow. "If you wanted to slide right back outta those clothes-"

"I have to get to the guildhall," she told him with a shake of her head and a refocusing back onto her own reflection. "I'm already late."

"Late." He snorted as he moved to step into the stall. Speaking louder now, as his voice was deadened by the falling water, he remarked, "Sun ain't even up yet."

"It will be in ten minutes," she assured him, "and by then I need to have the doors open and get started on breakfast prep."

"Why?"

He was like a toddler at times, rather than a grown man, purposely acting aloof. Mirajane would love to be annoyed by this, but if anything, it was more personality infringement on his part because, well, it wasn't like she didn't do her fair share of it.

"Because," she practically sang as, standing back, she looked over her reflection carefully, "it's my job, dragon."

"What do you think's gonna happen, huh?" he griped. "Old geezer ain't ever gonna fire you. None of those peons at the hall are going to complain at you."

"It's still," she insisted, "my job."

"So breakfast is late," he kept up. "What's the worst that happens then?"

"Uh, people who are counting on me to feed them are let down," she reminded. "And put behind schedule."

"Fuck their schedules. Fuck them."

"Why do you have such a foul mouth so early?"

"Because I want ya to get in the fuckin' shower with me."

"It's not good, Lax," she called over the falling water, "to get worked up over things that were never going to happen in the first place?"

"Do what?" he questioned, as if he suddenly couldn't make out her words, and maybe he couldn't, but Mirajane didn't find she much wanted to play into him any longer. Or, even if she did, that she was officially out of time to do so.

Though she might not have crossed the wrought iron gates at the exact moment she ascribed to, Mirajane was at the hall in plenty of that day to begin her daily tasks. There were floors and dishes to be scrubbed, mugs and silverware to be polished, bacon to be fried and eggs to be scrambled, as well as some meat to roast for the dinner crowd that evening. The pool area needed new towels and the bath house needed a to be mopped. There were new jobs to tack up and plenty of drinks to be served, as well as idle conversations to begin and the Master to contend with.

Her day was packed.

It always was.

But her mind seemed out of sorts that day and as she struggled through beginning each of those tasks with strong intent on following through with them, but she was hardly to noon when she noted her sister stroll in with the Salamander and Happy, all three laughing over something and no doubt hoping to have something stiff to drink and warm to eat, but instead, Mirajane gifted them only with concern.

"Sick?" Lisanna questioned as her joy was sucked right out of her. "But you never get sick."

"Stay away from me," Natsu told her as he tossed the fabric of his shirt up over his nose. "I can't get sick right now. Not with S-Class right around the corner."

"What's wrong, Mira?" Happy questioned as he fluttered by in concern, but did toss his furry paws over his own face, not hoping to catch any of her germs. "Do you have a fever?"

"No," she was quick to say, not one prone to lies, but also fearful of being caught in one. "I just, well… I feel...unwell. Just unwell."

"Pregnant unwell?" Happy asked hopefully and Natsu made a face at the implication from beneath makeshift mask while Lisanna only eyed her sister carefully.

"N-No," Mirajane insisted with a frown. But then, as the Exceed seemed to flutter more with excitement, she tilted her own head in thought. "Well-"

"Mira, if you're sick," her sister interrupted their pipe dreaming, "then you should go home. Here, I'll take over for you, okay?"

"Well," she sighed as she moved then to begin untying her apron. "If you think so."

"I," Lisanna kept up, "insist."

"Okay." Mira even braved (or at least had trouble containing) a smile. "Well, you're going to need to go into Master's office in about half an hour and give him his afternoon medicine."

"Alright."

"And run the bar."

"Of course."

"And check the meat that is roasting as well as get the dishes from the breakfast rush at least somewhat taken care of and, oh, Kinana isn't scheduled to come in for another three hours, and you still have to get the rest of the jobs cycled out on the board, mop the bath house, start the laundry from both it and the pool, and-"

"And," Happy took over, "I need a fish."

"And get happy a fish," Mirajane finished with a confident nod.

It wasn't quite what Lisanna had written all over her face, but she nodded anyways and Mirajane felt awful, truly she did, but as she left the hall that day, feigning fatigue and a slight bit of nausea, the woman actually had never been better.

"What are you doing here?" was the greeting from her boyfriend when, after politely knocking at the man's door (though they'd exchanged keys, she always sought to respect his boundaries...mostly; at least the ones she'd like returned back to her), it was opened to reveal a dressed slayer with just the hint of a snarl still placed on his face. He hadn't been expecting her, or anyone no doubt, and was not pleased that his personal time was potentially being disturbed. "Is everything okay? Forget something?"

"I'm," she told him simply, "sick."

"Then why the hell did you come here?"

His tone was annoyed and, much like his counterpart, he moved to bury his nose and mouth beneath the neckline of his shirt, but unlike the steps backwards Natsu had taken, Laxus was moving to drag the barmaid into his apartment. She giggled, somewhat amused by his actions, but allowing herself to be tugged along.

"Not really, dragon," she assured the grumbling man as he shut the apartment door behind her. "It's just what I told them."

"Told who?" he questioned as his nose came peeking back out from beneath his t-shirt.

"Lisanna and Happy. And Natsu." Then she tilted her head back and tapped a finger against her chin. "Well, I'm not sure they thought I was sick, rightly, but pregnant, at least."

"Yeah well- Pregnant?" Laxus did take his steps backwards from her then, nearly falling over a pair of boots he kept by the door. "Are you serious woman?"

"No," she told him honestly. "Dragon. I hardly ever am. You know that."

They had a moment then, between the two of them, where he only stared incrediously at his girlfriend and she smiled warmly up at him, watching his chest jump as he tried to regulate his breathing once more.

"So," he began slowly, "you're not pregnant."

"Not that I know of. And I'm rather in tune with myself."

"And," he kept up, "you're not sick."

"Again, not that I know of."

"Then...why are you here? Mira? During the workday?"

It was her turn to be at least somewhat bashful as, though Mirajane was a naturally rather open person, it was hard at times for her, with men she was so heavily interested in. Especially when it was a draining a love interest as Laxus had been for her as of late. It had felt so whirlwind, only months before, when the pair started to infrequently see one another, but the last few weeks had been quite serious and exclusivity had been tossed around, even, to the seeming acceptance of both parties and…

And…

"I just wanted to be with you. For longer. Laxus." She felt her cheeks heat up in a way they typically didn't. "If that's okay. I mean, if you're busy-"

"I just had to get up early and go to the market," he informed her plainly. "Then this evening I have tentative plans to meet up with Bickslow and Freed for drinks, but-"

"O-Oh, well-"

'If my woman's sick though," he cut her off rather definitively, "then0"

"You don't have to-"

"I'll hang out with them tomorrow night." He closed the gap between them then, not truly smiling, but certainly not looking as glum as he usually did. "I'll run out, tell them something came up, snag us some takeout for dinner-"

"Think you're up for me staying the night again?" she questioned as her hands pressed firmly against his chest and Laxus only loomed over her, his grin more noticeable as she stared up into it.

"Of course," he agreed softly, reaching out with one hand gently run a thumb over her warm, rosy cheek. As she giggled, he added, "But I dunno if you should."

"Why not?"

"I mean," Laxus reminded, "it is, apparently, so hard for you to leave me."

"So hard."

"And I don't want you to skip out on work again tomorrow, just for my sake."

"Of course not."

"So-"

"So," she reasoned, "I guess tomorrow when you get up to hop in the shower, it's going to be with the intention of joining me down at the hall, right?"

"What?"

"Bright and early?"

"Demon-"

"If you get up early enough," she enticed, "I might even let you join mine, dragon."

There was a glint in his eyes then as, leaning down, he rested his forehead against hers and furthered the stakes, "We get up early enough, that nice big bath house up at the guild will be all empty."

"That's true," Mira agreed. "I'll have the women's side all to myself and you'll have the men's-"

"Demon-"

"I just didn't expect to like you this much," she admitted to him softly and, as the blush returned, she had to fall forwards some, so that she could hide her words into his chest. "Laxus. So soon. But I really do."

He took a moment, the slayer did, shocked a bit, maybe, before laughing some as he bowed his head even more and wrapped his arms tightly around the woman.

"Yeah, well," he whispered, "I guess I must be something, you skipping out on your precious guildhall for me."

"Just this once," she promised and she meant it as she finally broke away from him some. A smile returning to her lips, she said, "So I guess we better use this day to our advantage, huh?"

"Yeah." Laxus hand came up again, just to brush a fingertip or two across her soft pale skin. "I guess we better."

[thiswasinevitableid]

indruck volcano pls?

Here you go! I based Indrid’s mer-design on a Chinook Salmon.

Duck’s search history is getting weird. 

In his defense, the last few weeks have been pretty damn weird. 

It started two weeks ago, when he was checking tree specimens along the river. One minute he was engrossed in his work, birds chirping and the sky blue above him. The next the hair on the back of his neck was straight up, and he was positive someone, or something, was watching him.

Gradually, the feeling subsided, and he chalked it up to random case of the heebie-jeebies. 

Except, two days later, it happened again. And then again the day after that. Each time he looked around, kept his ears on high-alert, and came up with nothing. The fourth time it happened, he got a glimpse of the back and tail of something human-sized and pinkish-red disappearing beneath the water. 

He knows his wildlife well, but he’d never seen anything like that. That night, he sat down at his computer for research. 

River fish of the pacific northwest?

Biggest species of freshwater fish in pacific northwest?

Are there pink sturgeon?

Pink fish near Mt. Saint Helen's?

How to report illegal, exotic pet selling ring?

The next day, he was leading a tour around the river walk, when something pink-red caught his attention. He kept one eye on it as he spoke, noticed it disappeared under the surface whenever anyone else turned to look it’s way. Towards the end of the tour, he glanced over to find, instead of reddish scales, red eyes watching him from a definitely human face. It blinks, then ducks beneath the current. 

Mermaid sightings in Washington?

Animals commonly mistaken for mermaids?

Are mermaids real?

Proof of mermaids other than that freaking discovery channel mockumentary?

Two days later, he’d been bending over the embankment to see if that was a native turtle or a released pet in the water when his hat dropped of his head and into the water, rushing away before he had a chance to go in after it. It was, as his friend Aubrey would put it, a bummer. That hat had pins from all the parks he’d been too, and the first nametag he was ever given as an official member of the park service. 

Just before his rounds took him away from the river, he spotted something on a rock at the edge of the water.

His hat.

He was about to thank his luck that it got caught on the stone when he noticed that it had clearly been placed there, and that there wasn’t a speck of mud or dead leaves on it. And whoever put it there had thoughtfully weighed it down with several colorful rocks. 

And there were no recent footprints on the shore save for his own. 

“Uh, thanks?” He called out over the water, feeling sillier by the second. No response came. 

He turned, headed up the bank, and swore he heard over the burble, “You are welcome.”

Can mermaids talk?

Are mermaids friendly?

Which brings him to now, several days later, as he’s back in the same patch of water, trying to fish out the turtles that were, indeed, someone’s non-native pet that had been turned loose. 

“You are going to lose your hat again.”

“FUCK!” He stumbles back, landing on his ass in the shallow water. Across from him, peering around a rock, the man who definitely has a fishtail, looks concerned

“Oh dear, in most futures you did not fall.”

“You’re a fuckin’ mermaid. I ain’t crazy! Wait, futures?”

“I can see the future. And no, that is not a thing all merfolk can do, since you were about to ask.”

“I...how...god what the fuck is goin’ on?” His pants are taking on water at an alarming rate, but that is the least of his worries. 

“I am introducing myself to you. I thought that was a custom merfolk and humans had in common?”

“It, uh, it is, but, uh, see, most humans don’t expect to ever meet a merperson on account of we assume you ain’t real.”

The merman sighs, “I know. And those who do see us are often frightened. Or try to capture us for money.” Cautiously, he swims away from the rock and over to Duck, stopping a few feet away, water shallow enough that he can keep his arms resting on the pebbly sand and tail flicking drops of water into the air, “but you are not one such human. Which is why I wanted to know you.”

“You, uh, you wanna know me because I don’t seem like I’m gonna sell you off to a sideshow?”

“Among other things. I have been the steward of this portion of river for years, seen many tend to these woods. You have such an air of caring to you when you work, and such competence, it is fascinating to watch. Also I enjoy that you sometimes speak to the trees.”

“I just want ‘em to know they’re grownin’ well.” Duck mumbles, blushing. 

“It is charming. If it is alright, I would like to continue watching you when you work. Perhaps I could even talk to you while you do, if it is only you and I around?”

“Uh, sure?” Duck shrugs, “can’t promise sparklin conversation, but I ain’t opposed to the company. Might learn more about trees than you ever care to know.”

“Splendid!” The merman claps his hands together, “some day, in return, you can come swim with me and you can learn more about fish and current than you care to know.”

His enthusiasm skips across the water and Duck catches it.

“You got a deal. Name’s Duck, by the way.”

The merman grins, teeth sharper than Duck expects, “It is nice to meet you Duck. I am Indrid.”

Mermaids carnivorous?

Should you offer to share your lunch with a mermaid?

Indrid, true to his word, appears now and then over the next few days. Sometimes, if the trails or river are busy, Duck will just see flashes of tail, or a flicker of a face peeking around a rock. 

Other times Indrid will float on his back or even climb up onto a rock to watch him work. He asks Duck questions about birds, and trees, the various behaviors of humans that confound him. Duck, in turn, asks him about his life in the river, about the layout of merfolk up and down this part of the state. 

Some days, Indrid is nowhere to be seen. But on those days, Duck will spot pictures drawn into the mud or sand of the riverbank, as high up as Indrid was able to manage. Sometimes, it’s as simple as a drawing of a merperson waving. Others it tells Duck where to spot a rare salamander or songbird. Once or twice, it’s reminder of something Duck needs to do that day after work, something he meant to write down but didn’t and is glad for the reminder of. He assumes Indrid must use his future sight for those. 

On the days when it’s only messages in the sand, he’s always sure to leave a happy face (or the words “thank you” once he teaches Indrid how to recognize it).

It’s been three days of sand messages, the longest stretch yet (Duck misses him, keeps hoping he’ll turn and see that toothy smile) when Indrid finally appears and asks, “would you like to swim with me tonight?”

Given that it’s pushing a  hundred degrees (the kind of day that makes him feel as though the mountain will erupt at any moment) and he’s fairly certain Indrid either can’t or won’t eat him, Duck says yes. 

When his shift is over, he heads down to their agreed meeting space, an inlet that’s off limits to the public and has a calm current. 

“I assume you wear those because otherwise the water is too cold for you?” He points at Duck’s swimtrunks, the spare pair he keeps in the car.

“Kinda. Mostly to, uh, preserve our modesty.”

“Ah.” Indrid says with the tone and nod that Duck knows means, “I understand but think it is a bit silly.”

As soon as he’s up to his chest in the water, Indrid is swimming around him, talking animatedly and brushing his body along Duck’s back. Duck shivers at the contact, tells himself it’s from the unfamiliar, cool scales. 

Their conversation turns to Indrid’s younger years, and he admits to harassing a flock of college students who were tubing and kept chucking their beer cans into the water.”

“How’d you get ‘em to stop?”

“My tail is rather strong, so I got it under their tubes and just-” he flicks his tail out of the water with a huge splash, the bulk of which hits Duck. 

“Ackhey!” He splutters, giggling. 

“ApologiesAH!” Indrid shakes his head in surprise when Duck splashes him back. The human gets another wave directed at him by Indrid’s tail, and when his vision clears the merman is gone. 

“Uh oh.” He says just as Indrid pops out of the water in front of him, drenching him as he does. The tail sneaks behind his legs and knocks them out from beneath him. But before he goes under, willowy arms grab him. 

“I win.” Indrid grins.

“Guhhuh.” He flails a bit, trying to right himself, and his hand slides up Indrid’s tail. 

“Mmmmmm.” Indrid sighs as he helps him up, “that feels nice.”

“Is it, uh, can I do it again? It’s kinda cool, never felt anythin’ quite like it.”

“Of course.” Indrid rests his head on Duck’s shoulder as the human runs his hand up and down his tail, noting the dark flecks in the red.

“It been the same color all these years, or does it change?”

“That’s a fascinating question….”

They talk until the sun goes down, resting against each other all the while. 

Merman tail sexual thing?

Can a human fall in love with a merman?

Can a merman love a human?

Merman porn?

Two days later, Duck is just starting his rounds by the river when Indrid emerges, eyes frantic. 

“Duck, Duck, the volcano-”

“Oh fuck me, is it-”

“No, it is not erupting again, but, but there will be an earthquake on account of it’s seismic activity. You need to clear the visitor center, the roof is going to come down and it will kill twenty five people. You have fifteen minutes. 

Duck runs, is winded by the time he reaches the center, and no matter how he tries, his coworkers will not listen to him (he wishes Juno was working today, he might be able to tell her the whole truth).

Out of ideas and time, he pulls the fire alarm. 

The center evacuates in a hurry, and just as his boss is about to ask what the hell he’s doing, the ground shudders once beneath them. Then again, more violently, thirty seconds and an eternity all once of cracking and shaking and shouts of alarm. 

The visitor center is ruins. 

But everybody is alive. 

-------------------------------------

Duck rolls his pants up, wading a little ways into the water as he chucks stones into it

“You did it.” Indrid surfaces, swimming over to float off to his left.

“Yeah. Guess I did. Got two days suspension for pullin’ the fire alarm though.”

“I am sorry.”

“Ain’t the end of the world. Uh, are there any more of those comin’?”

Indrid thinks for a moment, “No, none so severe in the forseeable future.”

“And the volcano?” He steps into deeper water.

“Still not erupting any time soon.”

“Can, uh, can I ask you the odds of one more thing?”

“Of course.”

“Uh, what, what are the chances of you and I kissin’?”

Indrid swims the few feet between them, looping his arms around Duck’s shoulders and planting a single, cool kiss on his lips. 

“Indrid.” Duck whispers, ready to wade in over his head just for another kiss, knowing for certain Indrid would never ask him to.

“Before you ask: yes, my sweet, I do see many more of those in our future.”

[streetharmacist]

A Hard Sell | PotW Solo

Friday nights weren’t usually spent at home. Why the heck would they be when he could get a month’s earnings in just six hours? As it turned out, Felix didn’t want to hit the clubs when he had the complete Twilight Zone on blu-ray waiting in his box. The parties would be there on Saturday and he would be at every single one of them. Until then, he’d sit on his couch and watch as humans struggled to grasp the extraterrestrial or otherworldly.

Whiskey glass in one hand and Carnegie in the other, he lounged back on his couch as the episode It’s a Good Life played. He had seen every single episode at least six times in his lifetime and even recalled the day they aired in real time. Humanity could be the worst sometimes, but Felix...Felix refused to believe that Rod Serling was human because he was too good to be. He took a hefty sip of his whiskey and stroked his salamander’s back with an idle finger. The episode ended and the screen of his wide television went dark before the next started.

In the dark, reflected in the screen, a pale face looked back. 

The fae squinted. Maybe it was something unnecessarily added to the blu-ray release. He shrugged and set his glass down on the table before he proceeded to roll a joint as fat as his thumb. To make room, he slid his small pile of coins to the side. Carnegie shifted on the back of the couch, the salamander no longer looking at the television. Instead, the salamander looked out the window. That was strange, but still, the lizard lit his joint at the fae’s prompting. Carnegie’s favorite episode was on next. The Monsters are Due on Maple Street. Felix sucked on his teeth and as the episode continued, looked between screen and lizard. The screen went darkas the episode ended.

The pale face in the dark was still there. It hadn’t moved.

Felix turned, arm around the back of the couch and eyes on the window behind him. The face from the television screen was in his window. Staring at him. He took a long hit of his joint and stood up to walk toward the window. In his own home, he didn’t feel the need to wear his glasses. The face stared at him as he slid it open.

“Hey there, friend,” Felix called out as he smiled. “Someone send you here? Kinda rude since I don’t just give out my address. Seriously, who the heck are ya? Don’t think I’m familiar with you and I’m pretty good with faces.”

The face said nothing. Felix took a bigger hit and squinted. He had started smoking after he first saw it. He knew that much.

“Alright, so...y’want something or what? It’s my night in, not really trying to sell or nothing.”

Silence. Felix huffed and pulled out his joint. Holding it between two fingers, he offered it to the...mime. The mime made no move to take a hit. Out of politeness and the sheer wonderment on whether or not this weird ass outside his second-story window would take his offer, he stepped away to roll and light a new one. Maybe that’s what it was. He finished off his glass before he returned. Liquid luck. With the joint pinched between his fingers, he lit it and handed it to the mime.

“Alright, I get it, mime law an’ all,” he laughed. “Give it a try, huh? I’m assuming that’s why you’re here. They told you I had the good stuff, right? And they were right, I guarantee it. You’ll be singing my praises in no time, bud.”

Silence. Felix was starting to bristle. He had just offered the guy his finest kush and he was getting nowhere. He wasn’t keen on abandoning a sale,  but his patience was getting tested something fierce. 

“Alright, wiseguy, I ain’t gon--What the FUCK!?” 

In a snap instant, jaws latched forward and nearly took his hand off. Instead, they latched onto the lit joint as he snapped his hand away. The mime inhaled and blew smoke before it tore away from the window, smoke billowing behind as it fucked off. Felix stared into the open dark of the window as the heat of rage flowed up in him. Smoke rose from Carnegie as fae and salamander looked at each other.

“That fuckin’ mime took my fuckin’ Green-Eyed Girl, Carnegie? Can you believe this?” He huffed in the rest of his joint and crushed it into his ashtray. “They fuckin’ owe me.”

[katreal-fic]

Day 2 — for #fictober 10/02/19

Prompt: “Just follow me, I know the area.”

Fandom: Homestuck

Warnings: Cursing I suppose. 2nd Person POV

Characters: Dirk Strider & Davepetasprite

First | Previous | Next

x-x-x

It was pretty fun, until you got hopelessly lost.

“Just follow me, he said,” Davepeta quotes the you of an hour ago, hiding their fanged smile unapologetically behind their blue ice cream cone, “I know the area, he said. The best pizza ever, he said.”

Dirk > Nurse Your Pride

Your pride is not wounded, and thus does not need to be nursed. Entirely unruffled by the teasing. It does not bother you. You make sure indifference is the air you project as you respond with a mild, unimpressed glare—one they can’t see behind your shades—but you’re familiar enough with their expressive body language by now to realize they find even your glares funny. 

You don’t know how to feel about that. It’s actually quite the novel experience after the probably healthy levels of fear and distant awe your mere presence affords to anyone not connected to your particular pantheon of childhood friends. Who you probably don’t see enough as it is, living secluded out here in your workshop off the coast of the consort kingdom. Which is likely your fault, if you’re entirely honest. You should visit more. You can fuckin’ fly. What’s a couple latitude and several longitude lines to a god?

There’s always an excuse. When the lime-green poison and flashes of white begins to seep through the cracks in your heart you just shut yourself in and work. You’ll figure this shit out. And deal with it. You’ll have to.

You decide not to dwell on it any more than you already have, “Do you even need to eat? You already sweet-talked that salamander outta that ice-cream. You’ve probably already ruined your lunch with that shit.”

“Nah, dad, I’m cool.” They do it to see you twitch, you know they do, even as they take another lick of the sweet treat, “Just cuz I don’t need to eat doesn’t mean I can’t. No stomach, can’t get full. Being of pyurrre energy up in here bro.”

They pat their abdomen lightly to prove their point, the long, almost dress-like robe largely stays some cream color despite the constant gradient shifting, almost giving off an ethereal glow from within. A being of pure energy, huh? You wonder if that’s what they are doing with the food–residual game play processes immediately transmuting the energy into something compatible. You don’t know much about the sprites, for obvious reasons. You never were particularly close to any of the others.

Man, sprite physics has the potential to be fascinating as hell, if you cared to dissect it. It makes for a good thought exercise, mapping out what would happen to all thr excess energy.

“Let me guess, push it too far and you’ll just get hyper as fuck, huh?”

“Yup!” Another lick, a grin. They always seem to be grinning, but that might be just because the overlong canines always seem to peek out mischievously, “Roxy didn’t realize that until we were paws deep in a pumpkin eating contest. In all fairness, neither did I! I could probably devour an entire musclebeast all on my lonesome if I deemed it apurrrrropriate. I’d purrobably be clawing at the walls like Jasprose on catnip if I did tho. Not sure if the consequences are worth poking at it, ya’know?”

That…is something of a mental image. “Have you seen this particular occurrence?”

“Nah, but you remewmber how hopped up she was befur the big battle?”

Like you could ever forget.

“I’m sure you can imagine it then. It’s purrrrrretty hissterical.”

The elongated rs turn into a purring rumble, as expected. They really do go all in on the cat-thing, huh? Can’t be worse than ARquius’ obsession with muscles. And horses. Tho you do have to give him props for that one, Horses are fucking awesome.

Trolls just seem to have a Thing, you guess. Just like the Batterwitch had a Thing for subjugation. Cats and Horses and Muscles seem much more reasonable, framed in that light.

Once the purr runs its course, and you go back to scouring Booble Maps–which are kind of useless outside the Human and Troll kingdoms. The Consorts just Don’t Care and fuck if you know what’s up with the Carapacians–they decide to continue, “It’s just funny, with the way you talked this place up on the way over it sounds like you should have that shit on speed-dial or something. All Prince of Heart’s Seal of Approval, endorsed and all that. Tourism would be booming.”

“I like it quiet. Tourism is the opposite of quiet. Especially when people are here god-watching,” At least Jake’s TV show is filmed an hour’s flight away so you don’t have to deal with his groupies, even if some make the pilgrimage to try and catch a glimpse of you.

You grumble, trying to remember the name of the place. You do have it on speed dial, but it was listed as tmnt instead of using the proper name. Past you had been so proud of the reference. When was the last time you actually went instead of just got delivery sent to your beach-side drone deliverybot? When Dave dragged you out last?

…when the fuck was that?

You shouldn’t get lost. You live here.

Or, well, maybe you don’t. You’re standing here in the shadow of an unidentified Jungle Tree, in some unnamed suburb of the city of Hearthstone. A city that popped up near your abandoned workshop during the big ol’ Time Skip. A dot on the map and a place to deliver your shit. Nothing more.

You surreptitiously check the calendar using your thought controlled computer-shades, realize it’s still set to your personal pre-sburb calendar, marked with all the historical dates from a Time Before Yours and indexed with clips of your Bro and you really aren’t in the mood for childhood nostalgia whiplash, thanks—so you abandon that shit and go back to booble to see if you can find the current date on there.

Jesus fucking Christ on a pogo stick, it’s been two years since Dave visited, although you’ve talked to him since then. You’re nearly twenty.

“Hey bro,” Davepeta, predictably, interrupts your existential crisis in regards to your detachment from the society and narrative in which you live, an unintentional action you mentally thank them for since you are so not in the mood to deal with that either, “That pizza place, was it called Half Shell Piez?”

That rings a bell. You nod, probably a little too forcefully as you mentally close the booble search window and start paying attention to the world around you, “I think so. It’s run by an older couple of turtles, if I remember. How did you know?”

“While you were brooding I asked around. Turns out people remember when two of their gods descend from on high to patronage their pizza joint. C’mon! World’s best hunter is on the case! We’ll stalk them wild piez and feast until we can feast no longer!”

You’re learning not to resist as they drag you away. Maybe they’re right. You really should be getting out more. You don’t even know your own fucking town.

The pizza is just as good as you remember it though. Better even, since you get it hot and steamy and fresh plopped right in the middle of the table in front of you, instead of luke-warm in an insulated delivery bag, sitting out on the table for you to grab as you work. Alone. Here, you find yourself surprisingly good company. You don’t even notice when the ridiculous chatter ends and conversations…shift. They did want to get to know you, after all.

You don’t think your shit is all that interesting personally, especially if you avoid the game shit because no one really liked talking about game shit since you all won, but they listen with rapt attention as you describe growing up in a world alone and feral, learning from and looking up to a Bro long since dead. They turn around afterwards and describe a wriggler, feral and alone, who grew up in the middle of a jungle and learned to hunt from a great purr beast, on an Alternia you’d never cared to learn about before.

You don’t comment when the last slice is gone and the pizza is taken away. You just…keep talking. Exchanging stories in that semi-private booth in a hole in the wall restaurant run by business-savvy turtles, long past an appropriate lunchtime, and well into dinner.

Time becomes a thing to dread, because you know they’ll be leaving tomorrow.

First | Previous | Next

[dafukdidiwatch]

Part 228 End

God that was a lot, and after that video I think I am done for the day.

Meenah was the one to ask for the bubbles like Feferi, but it was her plan to die, even before the reset. I guess she didn’t want to be trapped in those bubbles, even though it was her idea. So she spent her eternity doing evil shit in purgatory and trying to hunt Roxy.

John almost died (AGAIN) but thank god he woke up. Unless that death didn’t count as a heroic death, which in that case, I am glad he isn’t stupid.

Terezi meeting with Aranea, yeah Aranea is pretty cool. I like her enlightment and Buddha symbolism. She tried so hard to help Terezi learn about the former world, as well as try to get her to heal and forgive herself for doing the things that she had to do to Vriska.Now we get to maybe see what the other Alternia, A1, was like before the reset. At least, a small fragment of it from a dream bubble. I wonder what that would be like?

I am happy that Slick liked Paint, but he is now maybe drowning and Ms. Paint is now maybe captured/killed by English.

I can’t believe Hussie managed to save Slick.

I can’t believe that Hussie was killed by English. (in a pretty gruesome and sad death)

I Can’t BELIEVE that Hussie is haunting Vriska in the afterlife! Like she is 13 and you are a grown ass man, leave her alone! Don’t the bubbles float away, WHY ARE YOU HAUNTING HER!?!

Also, English’s cane better not need a red, green, and blue sun. Just saying here.

And now, Jane. Janey Jane Jane. Damn her place is horrible.

Barren and nothing. Roxy’s place is on fire (may be in the future still, who knows?) Jake currently got knocked out and maybe turned evil because I doubt he is fucking dead. Seeing how, oh I don’t know, HE HAS THE NEXT COMMAND LINE! Anti-Jegus messed with Alpha-Jegus’s shit in her dream room maybe, and Alpha-Jegus isn’t all that sweet as initially thought. Maybe she has dark thoughts since she likes empty desolate lands (overpopulation?) and maybe is planning on doing something sneaky. Maybe.

The land was filled with all the consorts, not just salamanders. I wonder why they all gathered here, instead of being spread out? And those lanterns, it sounded like Dirk and Roxy might die, leaving Jane as the last survivor.

God I hope not.

But seeing how Hussie DIED I’m not ruling it out either.

In fact, all of their icons were on the land too. Heart, Void, Life. Just no Doom. That is depressing, and also leads into my theory/fear of “English turning to English.”

Then...Mother...FUCKIN....Gamzee....What did Cal DO to you?

Because I know for a fact Jack killed all of your dream selves. (exception of Aradia). So I was right in there being a way to become a god without the dream-body. But what the fuck did Gamzee do? Why is he a god? Why is he here? Why is he selling the blood of his friends? Why did he fucking keep Tavros and Vriska in a fridge?

God that was horrible, seeing them merged in a fusion like that.

I hope it never happens again, they didn’t deserve it. No one deserves that.

At least, they are back to being separated, and hopefully Vriska and Tavros can still kick some ass even when dead.

[luvjonze]

Tenacious T & Me

I’ve been following @garyvee for at least 5-6 years. I remember he was being interviewed on Z100 radio, by @elvisduran . He was jawwing on about wine.

Immediately I thought - wow this guy has some serious crackhead energy AND I WAS IN LOVE WITH IT!

At that moment I immediately began following him on Snapchat of all places. I would watch every single story - him up usually at 7ish in the morning and giving little nuggets of wisdom laced with Fbombs galore…I knew I made the right choice following this fuckin guy!

Fast forward to prepping for VeeFriends launch day. He said to have everything set up by May 5th and being the awesome procrastinator I am… I waited until the last week of May to get my shit together. Had NO CLUE wtf I was doing but I joined the discord, read the helpful info channel and started my journey.

NF…wha??

Setting up Coinbase and MetaMask was a breeze and I was so proud of myself for taking this leap on my own blindly into something I knew jack shit about, but that’s how much I believe in Gary Vee.

Didn’t have a lot of money at the time to get ETH so I proudly added $10 thinking it was enough to get .05 ETH … yeah, about that…

I guess you could say I am a complete Crypto Noob.

Days went on and I began making awesome friends in Clubhouse (and honestly was going to delete that app until VeeFriends came along). Then, Gary announced GIVEAWAYS!

Holy shit, I thought, my bumbling $10 misstep might be forgiven! I might actually be able to win a VeeFriend!

Yeah, no. Didn’t win. It’s ok though - I still had my VeeFam in discord and Clubhouse!

OG VeeFriends Are The Best Friends

More and more days went on. It was a whirlwind of community members donating to eachother, listening to eachothers stories, paying it forward to eachother. It was beautiful, yet I still felt sad. Felt like I was missing out. I was pretty down in the dumps about a week and a half in and @bryceallard11 and I were talking about our life situations and while they weren’t exactly the same…we had a lot in common.

Little did I know that Bryce would be plotting with @realcolliebuddz, @b.lopez1989, @_f_e_r_r_i_n_ to donate some eth so I could start saving up. @_nickcorso also worked with LucChao to get eth donated to me.

What I also didn’t know is that Bryce was to be the recipient and instead of taking the eth to get HIS first Veefriend, he asked that it go to me & @workitmamab instead.

@irunpro heard the story and gifted Bryce his mammoth but Bryce also wanted his wife to come with him to VeeCon, and so I gave him what was donated to me.

Bryce reluctantly took it back but then he really turned up the heat. That man not only orchestrated eth donations for me but he even worked out a deal with @beardofshteel that allowed me to purchase his Tenacious Turkey for the price he bough it at!!! See, Beard was trying to flip for a Sentimental Salmander and in a glorious turn of events, another amazing community member paid it forward to Beard and he was able to get the Salamander!

Tenacious T was meant for me!

Although my journey was probably a little unconventional, Tenacious T was meant to find me. It’s a symbol of my resolve and perseverance through adversity. I read that Benjamin Franklin referred to turkeys as “birds of courage”. I dig that. It’s me.

I didn’t choose the Tenacious Turkey life, it chose me. It’s my symbol to keep pushing forward and no matter what gets in my way.

Tenacious Turkey is in the house!!! Gobble, gobble, Bitches!!!! 🦃

[caressofkrieger]

Title: “Shame”

Pairing: Ray Gillette/Dr. Krieger

Word count: 5,435

Rating: T 

Summary: Krieger knows that Ray is ashamed of him. Honestly, though, that’s okay. It’s not exactly hard to see why the idea of sleeping with him would be revolting, and if that’s not gross enough, the idea of dating him? Well, that’s just social suicide.  That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt his feelings, but... Krieger’s terrified to rock the boat.

“Holy shit.”

“Yep.”

“That was... Holy shit!”

“Yep yep yep.”

“Jesus, well... I’m gonna be feelin’ that in the morning.”

“Oh, yes.”

“Are you capable of saying anything besides ‘yep’ and ‘yes?’”

The scientist took a moment, brows knitting together in brief, pensive consideration. “Yes?”

“Ugh.”

“Wait! I mean... No? No, I mean yes. Yes. Final answer!”

Ray couldn’t help but smile, a small, involuntary upturn of the lips. “If you hadn't just given me the best, strongest, most mind-blowingest orgasm, I would be deeply annoyed with you right now.”

“But I did.” Krieger sat up halfway, raising his eyebrows at Ray hopefully. “Right?”

“I mean... Well, yeah.”

A bright, cheery grin instantly spread across the doctor’s face. “Excellent!” He leaned forward and kissed Ray on the forehead, then lay back down. “I, for one, have never been so satisfied by regular human sex in my life. It was nice.”

Ray opened his mouth to ask, but stopped himself before he could make that mistake. “I don’t want to know.”

“Oh, no, you most certainly do not.”

“Hang on—did you fuck some disgusting sort of robotic swine VD into me? Because if you did, I swear to God, Krieger, not only will we never do this again, but the next time your sad, sad little penis sees the light of day, it’ll be in two hundred years, getting scraped off the underside of my shoes by a bunch of archeologists!”

Krieger blinked, a small frown on his face. “I mean... If you bury a human penis, it would be entirely decomposed in less than a decade. Unless you plan to preserve it-”

“Dammit, Krieger! No! I don’t mean literally.”

“The whole thing? Or just the part about my penis?”

“Goddamn- If I’ve got radioactive venereal infections up my ass, I will figuratively obliterate your dickhole, and I will literally never sleep with you again.”

His eyebrows flew upward in understanding. “Oh! Well, then we better start testing right away!”

“What? Why?”

“Because I have an erection.”

Ray glanced down, noting the scientist’s sizeable boner, and looked back up to meet Krieger’s eyes with a deeply unimpressed expression.

Krieger coughed. “...What?”

Krieger rolled off of Ray with a satisfied sigh, humming as he ran a hand back through his hair to tame the mess into some semblance of its usual sleekness. “Heilige Scheiße.”

“Yep.”

“Das fühlte... Heilige Scheiße.”

“You could say that again, baby.”

“I mean... I’ve already said it twice-”

“Figuratively.”

“Oh.”

Ray laughed softly, shifting to rest on one side, a hand propped on his elbow so he could rest his head on his palm and just look at the man lying beside him. “So, that was the best celebratory STI-free sex I’ve ever had.”

“Me too!”

“And, uh, I think I’d like to do this again.”

“The infection screening?”

“The sex, asshole.” He gave Krieger’s shoulder a playful shove. “I wanna keep doin' this. Us. Whatever.”

Krieger’s eyes lit right up, like something switched inside him to bring him this pure joy, and suddenly the green of his irises went from warm moss to fucking Christmas lights. He took Ray by the wrist and leaned in close, making his expression as serious as he could manage while still being utterly giddy. “I. Would. Love that.”

Ray rolled his eyes, hoping to play this off as casually as possible, and said, “Well, it’s all yours, honey.”

And then Krieger fucking giggled, and if that wasn’t the cutest Goddamned thing-

Oh, Lord.

Ray was in trouble.

Krieger was a lot of things, namely: bizarre, creepy, eccentric, offensive, seriously disturbed, clinically insane, and terrifyingly genius.

But, as it happened, he was also sweet.

He came over to Ray’s place one night, an eager grin across his face as he happily anticipated a night of guinea-pigging his own personal brand of lubricant with Ray. Ray, on the other hand, was... not so in the mood.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I know I promised you we’d try out the... the whatever stuff tonight-”

“It’s a water-based apple-flavored tingly lubricant with a special aphrodisiac quality that’s absorbed through the skin-”

“Yeah, that. Look, I’d just rather not. Alright?”

He started to close the door, but Krieger stopped him. He gripped the edge of the door with a firm hand and forced it back open, and for a moment, Ray was scared. He might not have known too much about Krieger, but he knew Krieger was mentally and emotionally scrambled with bass-ackwards morals, a creepily vague past, and an extraordinarily rapey van, so yeah. There was a moment there where his heart beat faster and he reflexively reached for his guns, but then he glanced up at Krieger’s face and it was...

Soft.

It was gentle and concerned, a little frown and a furrowed brow, eyes surveying Ray’s expression carefully.

“That’s okay,” he said simply. “We could watch a movie instead.”

Ray raised an eyebrow, looking the German over suspiciously. “What’s your play?”

“We could watch a movie,” Krieger repeated. “I have a bunch of DVDs in my van-”

“Nuh-uh. No rape vans for me, thank you.” He started closing the door again, but once again Krieger held it open.

“I was planning on bringing the DVDs in here,” he explained. “Look, it’s just that I drove all this way—and there may or may not be a vat of bioengineered explosive salamanders brewing in my apartment that need several hours to stabilize before I can reenter—so I’d like to spend some time with you.”

The blond watched the brunet for a while, skeptically studying his expression. After coming up with an alarming amount of sincerity from Krieger’s end, he took a deep, wary breath and reluctantly relaxed his defensive posture. “No sex.”

The doctor nodded enthusiastically. “No sex!” he confirmed.

"Alright. So, what movies you got?”

The German started reciting a list of movies to which Ray only half-listened (okay, quarter-listened), because he was too stuck in his own head to even watch a movie, much less decide which movie to not-watch.

Honestly, he was just glad he didn't have to be alone.

At first they just sat like guy friends, dude bros, on opposite sides of the couch. Ray stared blankly at the TV screen, obviously paying no attention while Krieger was so absorbed by the narrative that he mouthed the dialogue as it happened.

His mind wandered. His legs felt heavy and unreal, and he looked down at them with a nostalgic frown; it was a strange sensation, knowing that the bones in your body weren't real bones, that you were an abomination, a sci-fi freak experiment assembled at the hands of a mad scientist-

A mad scientist.

He looked to Krieger, expecting to see the doctor still enthralled by the film, but instead he was suddenly there, watching Ray with a thoughtful expression and sitting about a foot closer than he had been before.

Ray jumped in surprise, inching further away. “Uh, hey. Can I help you?”

“I can fix them, you know.”

“‘Scuse me?”

“Your legs. If something is wrong, I can fix them.”

“What? No, honey, no, don’t worry about it. I’m just-”

Krieger reached for the remote and paused the movie. The silence bled into the room and Ray felt his chest tighten.

The scientist waited several moments for his colleague to finish the thought. When it became evident that there was no such intent, he prompted, “Look, man, you’re going to have to help me out here. I’m not... experienced, when it comes to comfort.”

“I’m just tired,” Ray said bluntly. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, yeah, but you’re lying.”

“And what business is it of yours?”

Krieger frowned and glanced away; the blond sighed as guilt crept up into the back of his mind.

“Listen, it’s just... It doesn’t feel right. Doesn’t feel real.”

The German’s eyebrows flew up. “The skin? It’s one-hundred percent real. The majority of it was actually yours-”

“That’s not-” He sighed again. “I mean it doesn’t feel natural. Because it’s not, and I... Well, I can’t help but feel like I’m not really human anymore.”

“Oh.” Krieger blinks. “I didn’t...”

“It’s fine. It just happens every once in awhile, I get these days where I kinda wish I wasn’t a fuckin’ monster.”

He said “Oh,” again, and then they both stayed quiet for a long time.

It was heavy and thick. Ray chewed the inside of his lip, searching for something to do or say, because the conversation felt unfinished; Krieger was unusually stiff and well-postured, hands bracing his knees as he stared resolutely at the middle distance. Eventually, Ray gave up and leaned forward for the remote, but that’s when Krieger inhaled in preparation to speak.

The blond froze in place as that deep, tender voice said, “You’re not a monster, you know.”

He sat back up and looked at Krieger, lips parted slightly in surprise, and said nothing.

“You’re a human being,” he continued, “with thoughts and feelings and free will—for now, as far as you know—and even if you are a monster, I mean, I’m a clone of a fringe Mauthausen-Gusen experiment who was stolen from my home and brainwashed by Malory Archer when I was fifteen years old. Now, I live in a transitional neighborhood in an apartment crawling with irradiated insects and swine. So even if you are a monster... Well, I sort of am, too.”

Here, he turned his head to meet Ray’s eyes, a sad smile playing at the corners of his lips. Ray looked back into those deep green irises, world-weary and sincere, and took the doctor’s hand. “Krieger-”

“Besides!” he interrupted cheerfully, the weariness in his eyes switching back on into Christmas lights, enthusiastically squeezing Ray’s hand before letting go completely. “It should serve as some consolation that a solid—mmm, fifty percent?—of your body is still totally human! Pure, unadulterated, original, organic Gillette.” He patted Ray’s knee, the smile now almost contrived, then resumed the film.

As Ray looked back at the TV, he noticed that the emotion currently in the forefront of his mind was confusion. Close behind that, though, was comfort, and he found himself scooting closer to Krieger, resting a head on his shoulder, and laying a hand on his knee.

And when Krieger smiled, wrapped an arm around Ray’s waist, and started rubbing small circles into the small of his back, it didn’t feel unreal or unnatural anymore.

It felt right.

“And... selfie!”

“No! No, no, no, no, no.” He swatted the phone out of Krieger’s hand so fast the scientist actually flinched, blinking rapidly with a blank, dumbfounded expression.

“Um... Okay? I mean, what?”

“You can’t take pictures of us right after sex, you ass!”

“I take pictures of you after sex all the time.”

“Yeah, but- Wait, that only happened once.”

Krieger widened his eyes, glancing around nervously. “That’s- What are we- The number of pictures isn’t important.”

Ray sighed and rolled his eyes as he lit his post-coital cigarette. “Whatever, look—that’s different. I don’t care if you take pictures of me.”

“I, uh, don’t follow.”

“I just don’t want there to be pictures of... us. Like, both of us. Together.”

Krieger blinked again, furrowing his brow first in confusion, then in displeasure, then in simple thought, before the wrinkles on his forehead smoothed over and his expression softened into acceptance. “Oh.”

“Now, don’t get all pissy-”

“Yeah, no, I mean- I’m not!”

“It’s just—you know how everyone else is! They’ll be all like, ‘Ray, what the hell is wrong with you?’ ‘Ray, that’s disgusting.’ ‘Ray, have you gone literally insane and that’s why your judgement is so clouded that you’ve started bangin’ the human equivalent of that weird-shaped fruit they won’t sell to grocery stores?’”

Krieger just looked at Ray, lips parted and quivering slightly. A trace glimmer of betrayal shone in his eyes.

“I mean- That’s not-” Ray sighed. “I don’t feel that way! You know I don’t. I like you. I like spendin’ time with you and talkin’ to you and Lord knows I like fuckin’ you. But, I mean, you can’t honestly tell me you don’t think they’ll give us hell.”

Krieger shifted uncomfortably. “They aren’t the most... supportive bunch, are they?”

The blond chuckled, curling up on Krieger’s chest and pressing a firm kiss against it. “That they are not,” he confirmed. “So, I’d just appreciate it if no one... found out about this. Alright?”

He just ran a hand through Ray’s bedhead and tried not to think. “Yep,” he answered absently, chest hollow and dull.

“Yeah?”

“Yep yep yep.”

Krieger was in his lab one day, slaving over an M-16 that Archer had given him to customize, when—speak of the devil—in barged the man himself, laughing obnoxiously at some inevident joke. “Krieger! Kr- Ha! Krieger, come here, oh my- oh my God.”

“I’m a bit busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Modding your gun!” He held the rifle up, grinning ear-to-ear in pride of the modifications finished so far, but Archer didn't even look; he was too busy staring down at his phone—wait, no, that- that was Krieger’s phone.

“Hey- What're you doing with that?!” He put the gun down (delicately) before lunging across the table to snatch his cell back, but Archer easily avoided him.

“What are you doing with- holy shit, with pictures of Gillette on your phone?!”

“Don’t tell-” Pam. Lana. Anyone. Don’t tell anyone. Ray doesn’t want anyone to know, and-

Oh, shit. Ray didn't want anyone to know.

Not even—especially not—Archer. Because if anyone was gonna give Ray shit for fucking Krieger... oh, God. Krieger quickly figured out that this wasn’t going to be an ‘Archer, Ray and I have been sleeping together for the past two weeks but it’s a secret’ thing. This was an ‘I’ve been secretly taking pictures of Agent Gillette because I’m Krieger and I’m a pervert’ thing.

“...Ray,” he finally finished. “Don’t tell Ray.”

Like Archer would ever show that much mercy.

He took Krieger by the arm and dragged him out, cackling all the way. “Raayy!” he sang, all too pleased with himself. “We’ve got something to shooww yoouu!”

Ray wasn’t interested at all. When Krieger and Archer found him in the break room (Krieger sporting the promising beginning of a black eye from when he tried attacking Archer to get the phone back on the way up), he glanced up over the magazine he was reading and sighed, “What?”

“Krieger’s got nasty pictures of you on his phone! Like, sleeping! And- ugh, just look!” He shoved the phone into Ray’s hand, and the blond took it and flipped carefully through the pictures.

They were... sweet. In a Krieger-y way. It was still fucking creepy, yeah, but in a weirdly sweet Krieger-y way; they weren't even sex pictures, they were just sleepy pictures. Cute, sleepy pictures of Ray with eyes screwed shut, blankets drawn up around his shoulders,  head resting on his arms. Plus, the creepiness factor was definitely subdued by the fact that they’d been sleeping together for half a month.

Although, Archer didn’t know that.

Dukes.

Ray glanced up at Krieger with an almost-apologetic look before he exclaimed, “What the hell is wrong with you, man?! This is disgusting!”

“Well, sor-ry for having a knack for art.”

“This isn’t art!”

“Photography is art!”

“This is stalking! For the love of- Ugh. Archer, get out.”

“What? Why?”

“I wanna talk to Adolf Dickler in private. See how hard these robot legs can kick him in the balls.”

Krieger widened his eyes. “I made those legs!”

“Then I hope for your sake you didn’t do a good job!”

The German winced. Archer laughed and left the room, closing the door behind him. Ray waited patiently to hear his footsteps disappear down the hall, then locked the door and turned back to the doctor.

“Good acting,” he noted, gently placing a hand on the side of Krieger’s face to inspect the gently swollen, purple-pink ring around his eye. “Jesus,” he sighed. “You gotta stop provoking him.”

“He’s really a good guy,” Krieger defended.

“Oh, honey, he’s really not. Speaking of...” Ray pulled the phone out and held it up. “What the hell man?”

“He stole it! I don’t know how! And who knows how he guessed my-”

“The PIN is 2112.”

He gasped with an almost comical level of drama, taking his phone and clutching it to his chest. “How did you-”

“Oh, please, honey, everyone knows it.” He crossed his arms and cocked a hip to the side. “Just try and be more careful, alright?”

“Of course, of course.” He unlocked his phone to start flipping through the pictures. “At least he didn’t see any of the more... unseemly photographs.”

“The what now?” Ray snatched the phone back and swiped through about a dozen photos of himself after sex, face flushed and hair a chaotic mess. In some, he was cute and sleepy, a lazy smile across his face; in some, he was totally fucked out, sticky and bruised. He smiled almost imperceptibly at the memory of seeing Krieger the same way, helping him put makeup over the bite marks on his neck, speaking German with him when he was half-asleep and too out of it to remember the English word for ‘Vorhaut.’

Krieger, who had moved to peer over Ray’s shoulder at the pictures, hummed softly at a particularly intimate photograph. “These would have been... more difficult to explain.”

Ray sighed. “It’s really creepy that you took these without me knowin’ about it. You know that, right? It’s pretty effed up.”

Krieger frowned. “Do you want me to... get rid of them?”

“No, it’s... It’s sweet. It’s effed up, but it’s sweet—and honestly, I’m scared of what you’ll start masturbating to if I take away the most normal material you’ve got.”

When the brunet just blushed and coughed awkwardly in response, Ray scowled.

“You’ve got a boner right now, don’t you?”

“Only, like, half-”

He rolled his eyes and spun on his heel to exit, tossing Krieger’s phone onto the breakroom table on the way out.

“Wha- Where are you going?”

“To your lab.” He stopped, turned around, and pulled Krieger toward him by the tie. His breath ghosted heavy and warm in Krieger’s ear when he said, “And in five minutes, you’re gonna meet me down there.”

Krieger’s heart actually (literally) stopped for a solid two-and-a-half seconds. He gulped and watched Ray walk away, eyes wide.

Something was telling him he was about to take a lot more pictures.

When they became official, Krieger cried—literally. He scooped Ray up in a massive hug (“Jesus, man! Put me down!”) and giggled like a little girl. Ray pretended not to notice the little signs of wetness in the corners of the scientist’s eyes once he finally released his grip.

“Good gracious God, Krieger, y’know we basically passed the point of no return the first time we hung out without having sex.”

“But once you say it out loud, there's no turning back.”

“Don’t remind me,” Ray mumbled, but he couldn't suppress his smile when Krieger wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him in close.

“I intend to. I will remind you multiple times every day, at regular intervals. As well as everyone on the planet.”

“Wait, Krieger, no. I don't want anyone knowing about us. Remember?”

“What—even now?”

“Especially now! Krieger, you said it was okay if we didn't tell anyone.”

“I, uh- It is! Of course it is, I just- Yes! Yes, it’s fine.”

“Krieger-”

“Ray.” He rested a hand on Ray’s shoulder and offered a small smile. “They don’t need to know. We’ve got each other, and that’s all we need.”

“Oh, you big cornball,” Ray scoffed, but his grin gave him away. “Now—if my boyfriend would accompany me to a shady movie theatre for popcorn and handjobs...”

Krieger’s eyes lit up like Christmas, and dammit if that wasn’t Ray’s favorite sight to see.

Krieger knew that Ray was ashamed of him. Honestly, though, that was okay. It wasn’t exactly hard to see why the idea of sleeping with Krieger would be revolting—you’d have to be blind (and deaf, and it wouldn’t hurt to lack a sense of smell) to not know that Krieger had some... unconventional tastes in the bedroom. With Ray, he took extra-special care to avoid overstepping boundaries, and not once had he initiated (or even talked about) a single thing unless Ray explicitly expressed interest first. But they wouldn't know that.

If the idea of sleeping with Krieger wasn’t disgusting enough, the idea of dating him? Well, that would have been social suicide.

That didn’t mean it didn't hurt his feelings, but... Krieger was terrified to rock the boat.

Ray was incredible. He was handsome, talented, and simultaneously normal and extraordinary in the most mind blowing way. He could move on from Krieger; he’d done this whole dating thing before and would do it again. For Krieger, though, it was the first time he’d ever had feelings—real, human feelings for a real human being—so if he decided to make this difficult, decided to be an ass and make a big deal out of it even though he knew exactly why Ray felt the way he did, Ray could just leave. And Krieger would be alone.

Ray was the best thing that ever happened to him. He wasn’t about to jeopardize that for the sake of his own ego.

That being said, Krieger was a man who was very open about his feelings. And he wasn't used to hiding them, so... he messed up sometimes.

Take that Wednesday, for example. Ray had been gone almost five days on a mission, and when Krieger came up from his lab to see that his boyfriend was back, safe and sound and all in one piece, he ran forward and threw his arms around Ray without taking note of the other people in the room.

Automated instinct made Ray hug back for a brief half-second before he froze and pushed Krieger off, scowling as if he’d just smelled something horrible. “Jesus, Krieger! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“Hey, why all the PDA all of a sudden?” Cyril asked, backing up as if he was afraid he might be subjected to physical contact, as well.

“Yeah, ew!” Cheryl chimed in, narrowing her eyes at the scientist. “Ever heard of personal space, jackass?”

Pam, Lana, and Malory all threw in their two cents, as well, but Ray continued on.

“Seriously, you pervert! God, get off me—I don’t know where you’ve been!”

Maybe Ray oversold it. But he was desperate and terrified that anyone might find out, and honestly, he was a little pissed at Krieger, too; what kind of an idiot just barges in like that without realizing the room is full of people?

Krieger played along. He played along perfectly. He laughed it off, fabricated an excuse off the top of his head, and threw out a few quirky Krieger-isms to make it extra convincing.

But there was this look on his face, right before he got into character. His green eyes shone with a soft, dull light, and his eyebrows pulled together into a hurt, apologetic knot. He looked like a kicked puppy, and it tore into Ray’s heart.

There was nothing he could do, though; not in that moment. He continued to play the part, join in with the others for a few more minutes of ripping on Krieger, then the doctor receded back into his lab and all was normal again.

It was a few hours later when Ray managed to steal away into the lab, descending the steps carefully and knocking softly on the wall once he found which room his boyfriend was in. “Knock, knock,” he said softly, and Krieger looked up with one eyebrow raised.

The agent took a deep breath and stepped hesitantly forward. “Algernop...”

“Look, Ray, I’m s-”

He interrupted the German with a, “Bup!” and held up a finger to stop him. “Don’t worry about it. I, uh... I missed you. While I was gone.”

Krieger hummed fondly at that, closing the distance between himself and Ray before gently taking his hand. “Ich Habe dich auch vermisst.”

Ray smiled.

“Who is it?”

“Nobody.”

“I know you’ve been seeing somebody, Ray.”

“I have not!”

Lana crossed her arms skeptically, barely hiding the growing smirk on her face. “Honey. Come on. You’re practically glowing, you haven’t been going to Fetish Night the past few weeks, and you don’t turn into a little schoolgirl every time someone hits on you, anymore.”

“No one likes a Nosy Nellie, girl.”

“Yeah, no one likes a Secretive Sally, either.”

“Ugh—We are not having lunch together anymore.”

“Raayy! Come on, who is it? Is he cute? Did you meet him at the club? I bet he’s like, a tall Chris Hemsworth type with washboard abs and gorgeous tan skin.”

Ray snorted. “Not exactly.”

“Ha! So there is a guy!”

He let out an indignant squeak. “No! No, there’s no-”

“Come on, this is fun! Is he a circuit queen?”

“No!”

“Is he a twink?”

“I- No, Lana.”

“Is he tall?”

Ray stared at Lana for a long moment, attempting to out-will her, but of course he eventually failed and gave up, sitting back in his chair with an exaggerated eye roll. “He’s my height.”

“Ooh! Okay, okay. Is he... Oh, does he wear glasses?”

“No.”

“Does he have tattoos?”

“Nope.”

“Well, alright, how about you tell me what he does have?”

Ray ducked his head down in slight embarrassment as he calculated his answer. “He’s... sweet. He’s not really my type, but he’s sweet.”

“So he’s ugly?”

“No!” Ray laughed, pushing Lana’s arm. “No, you bitch, he’s good-looking, just... not the type I usually go for. But he’s nice. He’s smart—he’s smarter than me.”

“Holy shit.” She smiled, amused, and sat back in her seat, sipping her iced coffee like she knew something. “You really like this guy.”

“Oh, shut up. I don’t like anybody.”

“You do! You’re totally in like with him. Okay, how’d you two meet?”

“Oh, who remembers?” he deflected, taking a big bite of his chocolate croissant. “We’ve known each other for a while.”

“Oooh! Do I know him?”

“Wh- No.”

“You lying whore! Who is he? He’s not from work, is he?”

“You’re not gonna get it out of me.”

“Okay, so he’s your height, no glasses, no tattoos, and I know him.”

“Stop it, girl. Dangerous territory, here.”

She leaned in close, squinting, and looked deep into Ray’s eyes, scrutinizing and deliberately intense. The blond glanced nervously from side to side, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. He could see all the thoughts running through Lana’s head, all the calculations, and dammit, this was why you never tried to keep secrets from spies. “What color is his hair?”

He closed his eyes, at this point only hoping to delay the inevitable. “Brown.”

“Eyes?”

“Green.”

“He have any hobbies?”

“God damn,” Ray sighed, reluctant to give up any more information. “He has... Projects?”

The exact moment that it hit her was ridiculously obvious to pinpoint. Her eyes went wide and her face fell, her lips parting in shock. “Holy shit.”

“Dukes.”

“Really? Him?”

He groaned, putting his head in his hands. “Dukes.”

“Ray, honey. Be careful.”

And then something switched inside of Ray. He felt a twist in his gut and he looked back up at his friend with narrow eyes. “And just what is that s’posed to mean?”

“I mean—Girl. Are you serious? It’s Krieger. He’s practically a Nazi, for one-”

“Oh, please-”

“And for two,” Lana pressed on, “he’s a fricken psychopath! Or a pervert, at the very least-”

“Watch it, honey!”

“I’m worried about you! What, did he Stockholm Syndrome you?” Her expression softened suddenly, and she placed a gentle hand over Ray’s. “Ray, honey, is he... Is he hurting you?”

“Jesus!” Ray pulled his hand back, scowling. “He’s not a goddamn monster, Lana! He’s sweet, and cute, and I’m happy! Yeah, he’s sort of a freak, but- Jesus, I like him, okay? He’s a good cook, and he has soft hands, and he does this thing where he starts drumming on his legs when he gets excited about something, and I don’t think he even notices it. He’s... really thoughtful, and weirdly sexy. And I’m not a fuckin’ idiot—I know how to take care of myself! You know if he tried anything funny I’d shoot his dick off.”

Lana blinked, watching Ray’s expression and letting several silent moments pass before saying, “Okay.” It was simple, but it was enough. She just nodded thoughtfully and accepted Ray’s defense. “Okay.”

“You’re damn right it’s okay,” he huffed, standing up and pulling out a cigarette to ignite. “He’s weird, yeah, and he’s a little crazy, but he’s a human being.”

As he lit the cigarette and breathed in a long, satisfying stream of smoke, Lana put money on the table for their meals, then finally said, “I’m glad you’re happy,” a small (but honest) attempt to ease the tension.

He just sighed. “Thanks, girl,” he mumbled, then he walked away.

Ray analysed his feelings a lot on the drive back to work.

He’d expected to be utterly humiliated if someone were to find out about him and Krieger. But instead of being ashamed of him, he just got... defensive. Because how dare Lana criticise Krieger like that? How could she pretend she knows what’s best for Ray when she never even gave Krieger a chance?

Krieger was a good kisser, a really good kisser. In the bedroom, he was careful and respectful and never did anything Ray didn’t want to do. He cuddled Ray with all his heart, and when he thought Ray might get up or leave, he hung on tighter and pretended to be asleep. He played with Ray’s hair and kissed the nape of his neck and helped him do morning sit ups.

He was weird. He was really weird, and kind of scary, but Ray didn’t give a shit. He was Krieger—Ray wasn't exactly sure when that stopped being a bad thing.

It didn’t matter.

Algernop mattered.

“Where’s Krieger?” It was one of the first things out of his mouth when he got back to the office.

“He’d dicking around in the conference room,” Pam answered. “Why?”

“I wanna talk to ‘im.”

Archer laughed, annoyingly. “Why? Is he still stalking you?”

“Krieger!” Pam shouted. “Get your Dolly-ass out here!”

The doctor strode into the room on cue, eyebrows raised almost dubiously. “You rang?”

Then, Ray kissed him. Hard, full, and deep. He walked right up to the scientist, gently took his face in his hands, and kissed him openly, willingly, in front of everybody.

Krieger first tensed, then hesitated, then followed through. His final sign of acceptance was a soft, content hum into Ray’s mouth as the blond let his hands slide into Krieger’s hair, around the back of his head to pull him closer, and Krieger’s hands landed instinctively on Ray’s hips.

“Holy shitsnacks.”

“Dude, Ray, what the- what the hell?”

“Have fun with his girly-ass hands!”

Cyril insisted on continuing to press for information. “Ray! What’s going on? Can you, like, actually stop for a second and talk to us about this? I mean, can you physically stop? Or is he... drugging you, or something?”

��Oh, please, he’s obviously a robot.”

“Ha! Right?”

“Why would Krieger make a sex robot off of Ray?”

Ray finally pulled back from the kiss with an exasperated huff and indignantly started, “You know-!”

But Krieger put a finger to his lips, his smile gentle and warm, and shushed his boyfriend softly. “To the van?”

Fond little chuckles danced on Ray’s breath as he looked back at Krieger and let himself forget about everyone else. “Alright, honey,” he smiled. “Lead the way.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yep.”

“That was... Holy shit.”

“Yep yep yep!”

“I mean... Seriously, holy shit!”

“Are you capable of saying anything other than ‘holy shit?’” Krieger teased, the smirk on his face entirely too smug.

Ray clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Oh, go to hell.”

“Fine,” the scientist conceded. “But first...” He reached over to retrieve his phone from the pocket of his slacks, haphazardly strewn over one of the seats, and held it up with a small smile, one eyebrow hopefully raised. “Selfie?”

Ray rolled his eyes at the doctor, but he posed for several photographs without protest.

And if he started keeping a few pictures of Krieger on his phone just for himself... Well, that was nobody’s goddamn business.

[immanueldid]

Alternative to feeling sad: Think of life goals instead.

Warhammer Armies to Build:

AoS Mannfred force,

AoS Muscle Khorne force

AoS Nagash Bone Zone force

AoS Bretonnians but kitbashed into vampires with lances because fuck you I do what I want

30k Vulkan+Salamanders

30k Perty+Iron Warriors

30k Lorgar+Kor+Erebus+Word Bearers

30k Horus+Abby+Sons of Horus

40k Huron+Corsairs

40k Abby+Black Legion

40k Lamenters

40k Flesh Tearers

Cosplay goals:

Full fuckin Word Bearer Dark Apostle w/ Voice Modulator and helmet so nobody has to know I am of the titty persuasion

Moe says I should do Shielder from Fate grand order

Become athletic and not terrified and do Satsuki Kiryuin w/ Junketsu 

Priest of Sigmar

Isabella von Carstein

A Zaku II suit

General Goals:

Learn 2 everything

Make Comic

Make date-my-stupid-astartes game

Make Primarch charms because everybody’s phone needs their favourite boy lookin’ out for their shit

Stop being scared of writing

Read more

Become Fit

Not forgetting to eat

Remembering to take care of self

All of this shit is doable.... okay maybe not the armies I do not have excess millions but everything else. 

[heyhowyadoingpally]

it’s been so fuckin long since our first installment of this series. at the rate we’re going i’ll get through the first ten pokemon by the time another game comes out. and that means more pokemon to cover. ew, i know.

since i went over the first starter evolution previously, time to go ahead and plow through the next starter like a combine harvester on the fields during a calm and early sunday morning.

#004 - Mega: Charmander Evolution

#004 - Charmander

the starters are supposed to all be, like, the basic elements, right? bulbasaur is supposed to be grass/earth, squirtle is water, and charmander here is fire. i gotta admit, i like the name. charmander’s name is obviously a combo of “char” and “salamander”. it just works. i mean, i think it does? i might be fuckin wrong but salamanders were once associated with fire in some culture’s mythology? greek? roman? native american? i don’t remember. but it’s somewhere.

according to the pokedex entry on this lil guy, if the burning flame on his tail gets snuffed, he’s dead. like, straight-up dead. and yet you see people pit their wimpy charmanders up against hulkin water-type monsters whose abilities cause tsunamis capable of wiping out an entire nation. charmander is a goddamn resilient little fucker.

i like his overall design - simplistic, yet iconic. he doesn’t have too much going on, which makes sense since he’s the first stage of a starter evolution. he’s like a lil baby. except this baby knows how to fucking suplex you into mount doom, all the while pissing all over the eye of sauron because he can.

i might have exaggerated on that one. maybe he could spit on sauron, but his piss stream wouldn’t reach that far.

#005 - Charmeleon

alright, alright. i’ll just go out and say it: charmeleon looks like that older brother who says he’ll do the dishes and then immediately goes out with his buddies.

like, i appreciate that they’re still going for subtlety with his design, but it doesn’t quite reflect the name. don’t get me wrong - the parasolophoid crest-thing going on is prett similar to some real-world chameleons, but maybe just make his tail slightly curl up like a chameleon’s? idk. if you’re gonna name it after a reptile who lives in the trees and eats bugs, at least show it in the design.

and, another thing i just want to get out there: we all know what he turns into, and how that fucker has wings. but the you’d thinkt hat maybe charmeleon here would have maybe like lil bumps on his back where wings are forming, or perhaps just small weak lil flippyflaps? it just seems weird that the final stage of this evolution has wings yet the middle and first stages lack such appendages.

i don’t want to say i hate it, tho; the fact that his skin is a lot darker and his “cute” features aren’t as prevalent are a nice touch. i think i said this enough, but i love subtlety and realism. when it shines, it shines good, especially here. the previously-stated features i like make charmeleon seem like an adolescent of his species. i don’t know how many times i can say i love when that happens without becoming a redundant recluse.

i just wanted to throw alliteration at the end. so sue me.

#006 - Charizard

the final stage in the charmander evolutionary line (much like in bulbasaur’s) is badass.

even the name (which doesn’t seem to really fit his appearance, either) reeks of badassery. charizard. just saying it out loud makes you feel the adrenaline enter your bloodstream and cause the greatest orgasm known to mankind. HNNNNNNGH. YEEAHH. THAT’S RIGHT FUCKERS. I JUST CREAMED IN MY FUCKING PANTS.

this motherfucker is your standard dragon, but it’s a fuckin great dragon. i mean, it’s kind of a given that the first fire starter in the games would be a dragon, but it looks so fucking good. it’s a shame that it doesn’t reflect much of the “lizard” qualities in its name. idk. give him a big ol long licky tongue or smth. it’s a shame it has such a badass name yet the badass design doesn’t reflect it.

badass. blah blah blah. i’m very tired.

and, just so nobody blabbers to me about it, yes, i’m aware that charizard isn’t a dragon-type. i can understand why this didn’t happen, honestly. they probably didn’t know if the first two games would even sell as much so they didn’t want want to make a dragon type just for one pokemon. or something.

charizard’s mega evolutions differ from ivysaur’s in that instead of having just one evolution for both games that get released, charizard has fuckin two, one for each game.

Mega Charizard (Pokemon X)

ugh. i mean, it looks like a mega evolution, but it just seems a little bit on the “”””edgy”””” side for my dumb baby tastes. just a little.

however, i will say that giving him a darker color scheme does a better job at keeping the “char” part in his name. since, y’know, when things char, they typically turn black.

the fire being blue is a nice touch, too. it implies that he’s one hot momma older, and therefore has hotter flames. maybe if a charizard turns into this at its last years of life and it blows up bc of too much heat? think of when godzilla went through a meltdown, but not as large and not as cool-looking.

i just hope that the mega from pokemon y looks almost as interesting as this fella. maybe even better. but i doubt it since pokemon likes to pander towards the edgy fanbase it h-

Mega Charizard (Pokemon Y)

I TAKE BACK WHAT I SAID THIS IS NOT EDGY, THIS IS THE OPPOSITE OF EDGY. WE HAVE BEEN BLESSED.

sorry. had a stroke for a second.

this is just-.....he’s....

he’s fuckin fantastic.

if there was an evolutionary line after charizard, i’d sure as hell want this fucker to be next. he looks like an elder charizard. like, the leader of some sort of charizard group. the three crests make so much sense to me. like, charmander had no crest, charmeleon had one, and then charizard has two.

the wings???? they look slightly damaged, as if years of fights and flights have wore down the edges. this fucker has seen shit, and he annihilated the PISS out of that shit,

the tail??? a bigger flame, naturally. the older it gets, the bigger the flame? i don’t know. i’m a little peeved that they didn’t make his flame blue as well for the sake of making him seem also powerful, but i can understand the aesthetic choice.

what i would have personally liked to see is the two megas switch color schemes. i personally think it would have worked a lot better in their favors.

in fact, hold on. i’m gonna see what this would have looked like.

(source)

this looks a lot better than i thought it would have. fuck. @nintendo reboot ur games just for the sole purpose of this factor. i don’t care if i have to wait 10 years for garbodor to pop up in another game. this is a fuckin masterpiece.

RATING:

4.5/5 venonats. where they shine, they shine like a goddamn gold nugget. and that’s pretty much everywhere. mostly.

my only gripes are that they could have done a somewhat better job making the pokemon reflect their names.

be sure to tune in....whenever....when i review the squirtle evolution line.

PREVIOUS POKEFART: Bulbasaur Line

NEXT POKEFART: Squirtle Line

[riverofmemoriesft]

. Obsessive Impulsive . 14

Full Summary: “‘I’ve been trying to find you alone for weeks, but you’ve been avoiding me.’  He clicked his tongue, as if scolding her.  'I tried approaching, but you always had someone with you to give me nasty words and looks.  They turned you against me, Miss Levy.’"

Pairings: Gajeel x Levy

Warnings: I strode for a darker fic again.  This is not for sensitive readers.  Violence, stalking, etc.  

Author’s Note: This is a very, very twisted gift for Bubbles, who has not been allowed to so much as read a single chapter.  This will update every other day.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip-

Levy's hazel eyes fluttered open, hazed with pain and confusion. She blinked a few times, and then gasped, shooting upright. Pain lanced through her - bandaged, she noted - shoulder, and she rested a hand lightly on it as she looked around.

A sewer? she wondered, shocked as she took in the space around her. She was resting semi-upright beside a round grated entrance that, from the looks of it, could be removed if necessary. She licked her lips, remembering who she'd last seen, and looked around. Elroy wasn't there at the moment.

She hissed as she struggled to sit forward. Blood seeped into the bandage, warm and sticky, but she ignored it - particularly as a shadow appeared nearby.

"You're awake, Miss Levy!" Elroy cheerfully said, green eyes glinting in the dark.

Levy spat at him, furious. "Take me home, Elroy."

He disregarded her fury and instead stepped over, lightly grabbing her wrist when she tried to hit him. She shrieked in outrage as she was lifted into his arms with a gentle touch. She was disgusted with it. "Forgive me, Miss Levy, but we need to hurry. Someone will come looking for you soon, and I don't want you to be taken from me again. Do you?"

"Yes, surprisingly enough," she said wryly as he started forward. Her shoulder ached horribly. She wouldn't be surprised if it got infected. Not with the space they were traveling through. "I honestly hate to break it to you, Elroy, but home is sounding pretty nice right now."

"You don't mean that," he murmured, furrowing his brow.

"Again. Surprisingly enough, I do."

He ignored that and kept walking. It seemed like ages before they reached an exit to these sewers, and when they did, Levy was blinded by the sun. She threw her good side's arm up to protect her eyes. When she lowered it, her heart skipped a beat.

They were literally in the middle of nowhere. Eloy's legs were wet from walking through dirty water.

And her eyes welled with tears as the cuff on her arm glinted in the sunlight.

Because not even Natsu would find her now.

Elroy headed onwards, and Levy sniffled. His gaze dropped to look at her, nearly leaf-green in the light. Levy couldn't tell if night had come and gone, or even how many days or hours it had been since she'd last seen the horrified look on Gajeel's face.

"Miss Levy," he soothed, "it'll be alright, you'll see. You won't need to worry. I'll take good care of you, and soon, you'll forget about everything else."

"This is kidnapping," she whispered. "You're taking me against my will, Elroy!" Her voice rose until she shouted, "In what world would I even think about dating or even liking you?!"

His gaze darkened angrily. "Stop it-"

"No," she seethed. "I will never think of you as anything but as close to evil as someone can get. And I've looked evil in the eye and survived. Gajeel crucified me to a tree. And even after I've forgiven and forgotten that, he still doesn't think he's worth anything to me! If you think you're worth more than a rock to me after this, than you're a delusional psycho!"

The blow came so fast, she didn't see it coming. She cried out as a stinging pain filled her cheek. Elory had slapped her - and continued to glare at her, practically foaming at the mouth as he snarled, "Don't talk about me like that! Or him! One more word about Gajeel Redfox, and I'll make damn sure he finds your body half-rotted in the middle of the woods!"

Levy clenched her jaw and said nothing, her small chest heaving as she glared at him hatefully.

A heartbroken look spread over his face. "Miss Levy, don't look at me like that," he whimpered, and she yanked her face out of his reach when he paused and tried to touch her cheek. He frowned, unhappy. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"I hate you," she seethed.

His gaze hardened. "We'll change that," he mumbled, half to himself and half to her.

Levy looked to the sky and willed herself to stay strong.

"I'm coming with you."

"That's fine." Gajeel nodded in approval the next morning at Lily's fierce words as he shoved some medical supplies into a bag for when he found his new sort of girlfriend. Nighttime had come and gone, giving him resting time that he didn't want, and now it was time to leave. The birds had begun to chirp hours before.

"I'm coming with you, too."

"...that's definitely not fine," Gajeel said, pausing and turning to look at the glaring sky mage. Wendy's dark eyes were sharp, her cheeks puffed up as she gave him a nasty look. He was impressed. "Sorry," he grunted, patting her on the head. "Mira and Erza would kill me."

"I can fight," she insisted.

"I don't doubt ya can. But Charle would kill me, too." He scrambled for reasons. "Besides. I need someone to be ready to help her when we get back. I sure as hell ain't a fuckin' healer."

She faltered. "I...I want to…"

"I know." He didn't budge on the matter, refusing. He would not let Wendy come out there after this man. Not when they didn't know what he was doing with Levy - a line of thinking he did not let himself go down. "Please, Wendy."

"Okay." She took a deep breath and then told him to hold on. She slipped out of the main part of the guildhall, where the guild had offered shelter for the injured - and for the bodies of those who'd been killed. Some in the guild were there, tending to those who needed it and offering to help others search for the missing. No one seemed to notice Levy was gone - something Makarov had wanted when he'd ordered Gajeel to leave and not return until he had Levy with him.

Dead or alive.

Wendy came back, trilling lowly in her throat. "Natsu's badly hurt. Porlyusica's with him. But...he said that if you were going to leave, to tell him. He gave me this to give you." She pressed something into his fingers.

Gajeel blinked as he unfolded the cloth. Within it was a cuff of iron - one of his own, made specially by Gajeel himself. Natsu had demanded he make it and then had carved crude symbols of luck-wishing, protection, and other such phrases.

All in Draconian.

Despite his irritation towards Natsu on a regular basis, Gajeel clasped it on his wrist and told her, "Tell Salamander I say thanks."

She nodded and stepped back. "Good luck!"

Gajeel nodded curtly and glanced at Lily, who met his gaze and inclined his head. He was ready.

"Alright," he rumbled. "We're gonna start around the explosion site, Lil'."

"Understood," Lily replied.

His wings snapped out and Gajeel bared his teeth in a malicious grin.

"Let's go kick that fucker's ass."

It seemed like ages before Elroy stopped and when he did, Levy felt fear race down her spine because she realized just how long he'd been planning this. Because there was no way in hell that you could set up a fully stocked cabin in just a week.

Her throat dry, she whispered, "How?"

Elroy beamed. "I payed people to come out and build it. Isn't it lovely?"

Sure. I'd love to come here. If I wasn't with a stalker.

Taking a deep breath, Levy tried to shove herself free of him. With gentle hands, he put her down, but kept a firm grip on her cuffed wrist. To make sure she wouldn't go anywhere...not that she would make it far. She wondered how high the smoke would go if she burned the cabin down.

That would be a thing to try. Lock him in, burn, and run until someone figured out where she was.

"You must be hungry and tired." Elroy suddenly pulled her towards the cabin. "Come, Miss Levy, we'll make sure you're fed and see to it that you are put to bed."

Levy pressed her lips together. Maybe she could try to escape when he was asleep? He'd have to be exhausted, too. Those shadows beneath his eyes were brutal...but he'd be waiting for attempts tonight, the first night.

Levy grimaced as she was pushed inside, taking in the space around her. It wasn't too good, thank the heavens above. It was filled with cheap furniture, a running fridge and an old stove that looked as if it would blow up at any second. She wondered if she could sabotage it?

She looked to Elroy when he chirped, "Your room is here." He pointed to a door and she hesitantly walked over to it. Any thoughts of escape left her when she found that the window within the simple room containing only a bed and a shelf of books was barred.

She hated her luck.

She freaking hated her luck.

Levy, with reluctance, entered the room and wasn't surprised when Elroy closed and locked the door behind her, calling, "I'll be back and then you can come out! They've brainwashed you so much, I know you'll try to go back. I'm sorry, Miss Levy."

When Elroy was gone, she sank to the ground, seated against a wall. She swallowed the lump in her throat, flinching at the throbbing in her shoulder - and forced herself not to cry. She would not cry.

No, no crying.

But Levy was determined to find a way out of this. Even if it meant tainting her hands and soul with Elroy's blood.

Because that may very well be the only way she could get out.

Gajeel studied the space around he and Lily. Lily was on his shoulder, using his tail to balance himself. Gajeel could see Erza heaving against some debris with Juvia and Gray, her dark eyes worried for whoever was trapped. She was streaked with ash.

They'd wandered the area, seeking any sign of Levy. He'd finally found an iron pipe that was almost entirely slicked with Levy's blood. Lily had looked disgusted - as had Gajeel as he'd breathed in that horrific and familiar scent before using it to track her. He'd gotten halfway down Strawberry Street before it disappeared.

"Fuck," he seethed.

"We'll find her," a calm Lily muttered. "She didn't just disappear into thin air."

"She might as well have!" Gajeel crossed his arms. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself, frustrated. After a moment, he drew a hand down his face, thinking. Elroy had definitely taken Levy and run. He'd caught his stench while investigating the pipe. The question was how he'd managed to get out of town without being noticed by anyone, because they'd checked and nobody had seen them.

Gajeel's gaze roved the street slowly, studying it as people worked and wailed and whimpered.

He'd been down the street plenty of times and knew precisely where everything had been before. He remembered slipping through the sewers beneath it, too, hunting for a criminal that Makarov had wanted him to detain-

The sewers.

Gajeel lunged for the nearest entrance, earning a squawk from his cat. "What are you doing?!"

"The sewers." He knelt to peer into the hole in the ground, jaw working furiously when he saw that it had flooded. Something had burst thanks to the canal. "I bet he used it to get around...Juvia!" he shouted, looking over his shoulder. The water mage paused, blinking, and then waved for a tired Gildarts to take her place.

"Gajeel?" she said curiously when she'd come over, "What-"

"Clear the sewers," he ordered, peering into the darkness. "This section flooded and I gotta find Levy. Fucker went down in 'em like a rat."

Juvia's lips parted, blue eyes stretching wide. "Okay." She cleared her throat and stepped back. "Juvia needs you to patch up the breach though."

She settled contently into a stance, eyes on the canal. She suddenly closed them - and then snapped them open as the water came soaring out of the sewer, swirling through the air and into its proper place. Gajeel went to work, creating a patchwork of iron that he nailed into the massive crumbling hole. It wouldn't hold forever, but it would hold for a few weeks at most.

"Juvia will have Gray strengthen it," she promised. "Be careful, Gajeel."

He ruffled her hair as Lily settled onto his shoulder again. "See ya later, water woman."

And then he jumped.

[gizoogletranslateshomestuck]

> Jade: Go inside.

-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pester'n ectoBizzle [EB] --

GG: jizzle be you tizzy??? 

EB: whoa, hizzle! EB: yoe awake! 

GG: Keep'n it gangsta dogg. yes! GG: Bow wow wow yippee yo yipee yay. im so relievizzle to rap ta yizzay n hear youre ok GG, chill yo: i mizzean....... GG: be you ok john so jus' chill? yo' drizneam self i mean 

EB: oh, yeah. Put ya mutha fuckin choppers up if ya feel this. EB: i be pretty sure thizzle i... EB: Aint no stoppin' this shit nigga. he? EB: be/be F-to-tha-izzine. Its just anotha homocide. EB: i woke up on the battlefield whizzich wizzas on fizzire, n hizzy flam'n bits of prospit everywhere sho nuff. 

GG: :( GG: yes, but that wizzy nizzy prospit with my forty-fo' mag. thiznat wizzay its miznoon whizzich wiznas severizzle by tha crazy derze agent 

EB: oh, yizzy miznean jizzack? 

GG now pass the glock: i dunno with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin! 

EB: that be his name, karkat tizzold me. EB upside yo head: i saw hizzim thizzere tizzay. EB: oh!!!!! EB fo' sho': i also gots yo' present, and it saved mah life dogg! 

GG: really?? : Aint no stoppin' this shit nigga.D 

EB: yes, thizne bunny wizzle so off tha hook, it was definitely tha best bunny i gizzot today. EB: T-H-to-tha-izzank yizzle so much, jizzade bitch ass nigga! 

GG: Aint no stoppin' this shit nigga. <3 

EB: when jack saw it, he F-L-to-tha-izzew tha hell away. n then tha B-U-Double-Nizzy n i wizzent on an adventizzle togetha. EB: does tha bunny have a name? i asked him but i dizzy T-H-to-tha-izzink he cizzy rap. 

GG: i dont know! i did niznot give him one afta izzle tha upgrizzles GG: i gave ha a gizzay name whizzle i was verizzle yizzy, bizzle now she be a different bunny, n also a boi i gizzle? GG: its up ta you J-to-tha-izzohn, he be your bizzle 

EB: oh, i did not evizzle thizzink of that. EB: well if she grew up as a girl, then it not right fo` me ta suddenly miznake drug deala a boi. EB: hmm... EB: you hiznave no idizzle how tempted i be ta N-to-tha-izzame ha casey again. 

GG: hahahizzle GG: again? One, two three and to tha four. 

EB: yes, i named a yiznoung salamander casey pimp, but then i left ha at roze's hizzle. 

GG: you wizzere at rozes hizouze spittin' that real shit?? 

EB: yes, but she wizzle asleep. EB, betta check yo self: aizzy, apparizzle i be supposizzle ta marry roze. karkat sizzy so cuz this is how we do it. 

GG: what! Fo'-fo' desert eagle to your motherfuckin' dome.!!! 

EB: it be true, it be a F-to-tha-izzact frizzom an izzle. 

GG cuz I'm fresh out the pen: ugh he be so weird GG: you shouldnt listen ta him! 

EB paper'd up: heheh, i diznid nizzay takes hizzay thizzat seriously. EB: bizzle kizzle be coo', he be angrizzle n F-U-Double-Nizzy. 

GG puttin tha smack down: D: GG: he be angrizzle n a huge pizzle 'n the ass GG now pass the glock: have yizzy wanna be gangsta talked ta two of hizzim at once???? 

EB fo gettin yo pimp on: haha, no! 

GG: It's your homie snoop dogg from the dpg. dizzle eva do it and my money on my mind! you W-to-tha-izzill git a heezeeache 

EB: that siznounds kizzay of awesome. 

GG: nooooizzle, thizzink again 

EB: i've gots it so i can get mah pimp on. EB: i wizzill nizzame ha liv tyla. 

GG: ? Aint no L-I-M-I-to-tha-T.??? 

EB: You'se a flea and I'm the big dogg. tha bunnizzle. 

GG: :| GG: You'se a flea and I'm the big dogg. you mizzay frizzle armageddon? Wussup to all my niggaz in the house. 

EB: yizneah! 

GG paper'd up: john that is so stupid GG: but also kind of skanky i guess GG: ok thizzay tha bizzle will be namizzle playa your silly movie stizzle fantasy crush 

EB: it too bad i C-to-tha-izzan't marry liv instead of roze ya feelin' me? EB: tha girl i mean, not tha bunny fo' sheezy. EB: but i guess shizzay is probably dizzead now, along wit all tha otha glamorous movie stars wizzy come out ta shine on tha silva scrizneen. Listen to how a motherfucker flow shit. EB with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin: that P-R-E-Double-Tizzy sad. 

GG: yizzeah...... GG: thizzay reminds me john GG: have you looked 'n tha lizzle yet? 

EB: tha lizzay? 

GG: the big room 'n tha sizzy at tha top of tha towizzle 

EB: oh, no. why? 

GG: could you do me a fizzle n not lizzay in thizzere? 

EB: Snoop dogg is in this bitch. ok. One, two three and to tha four. why, be thizzay a secret 'n thiznere? 

GG: its nuttin thizzle secret or personal or nothin' trippin'.... GG: it be just sum-m sum-m kind of sad n weird fo` you ta see 

EB cuz its a doggy dog world: what be it? Subscribe nigga, get yo issue. 

GG fo all my homies in the pen: it be mah dead dream self GG: it hizzas bizzay there fo` years, i always kizzy i would die biznut i diznid nizzot realize it would go lizzike this.... 

EB: oh... EB: Chill as I take you on a trip. errr... 

GG upside yo head: W-H-to-tha-izzat? 

EB: i have sort of already seen... T-H-to-tha-izzat with my forty-fo' mag. EB: nizzy 'n tha lab, bizzle on tha battlefield. 

GG: It's your homie snoop dogg from the dpg. oh no! Put ya mutha fuckin choppers up if ya feel this.!!!! GG ya feelin' me? im sorry john  ya feelin' me?( 

EB: it's ok. EB: i was so confuze' n sad when i saw you ly'n there... EB: i'd ratha nizzle rap 'bout it i guess. Listen to how a motherfucker flow shit.  

GG: i understand 

EB: Subscribe nigga, get yo issue. but, i wonda... EB: if yo' dizzy self dy... EB: thiznen what were you just ho-slappin' 'bout nizzay? 

GG: ummmmmmm GG: i think i wizzay ratha not rap 'bout that eitha 

EB: Ill slap tha taste out yo mouf. ok, that coo'. EB: oh, also... Listen to how a motherfucker flow shit. EB fo' sho': i found yo' r'n. 

GG: yizzou did dogg???? 

EB: yizzes... EB: Throw yo guns in the motherfuckin air. but thizzay i woke up, n D-to-tha-izzidn't have it anymore. EB in all flavas: so i be not sure where it be now. 

GG: oh nooooooo GG: jizzohn that r'n be reallizzle important, it belizzles ta tha white queen ya feelin' me? 

EB: Bow wow wow yippee yo yipee yay. oh, whoa n we out! 

GG: when yizzle go ta sizzy izzle, you shizzay trizzy ta find it n keep it siznafe! 

EB: ok, i will do thizzay. EB: hey jizzade, we have a lot ta cizzay up on, but hizzay 'bout rappa? EB: we have ta hurrizzle, remember there be a big meteor heezeeing for you right now fo' sheezy? 

GG: yes i have seen it, it be so huge  so show some love, niggaz!_. GG: hizzow miznuch tizzime d-ya suppoze we have in tha mutha fuckin club?  

EB: i will find out now upside yo head!

> ==>

[fallen029]

Passing Time

Even before her death, honestly, it was rare for Lisanna to keep something from her sister. They shared everything. Everything. And after her return from Edolas, this was upped to even the most mundane of things. Stuff that no one would even care to know about another person. They shared it in hushed whispers, even, some of their secrets. Theirs. The only two they’d ever truly be completely, one hundred percent, not lacking in the slightest honest to. Each other.

There was no one Lisanna trusted more than Mirajane.

And yet…

She wasn’t going to be telling her about this.

At least not yet.

It was weird, honestly, the entire thing. Awkward. Embarrassing, maybe, even, for her. For him too, maybe. They weren’t exactly anyone’s dream ideal for a couple. Or even each others. Lisanna wasn’t even so sure she wanted to be a ‘couple’ with someone else, at least not in the way that her sister was with guys, every so often. All in love and all that junk.

And she was nearly certain, truth be told, that they weren’t that. A couple.

But they were...something.

“Lovers,” Bickslow coined happily as his babies floated about, singing the same word as they sat in his filthy kitchen the next morning, eating the burnt eggs she’d made them.

“I don’t love you,” she replied simply though her face heated up from the insinuation.

But the seith only shook his head and he looked so odd, as he had the night before, without all his getup on. Lisanna wasn’t certain she’d ever seen him without his visor and hood pulled tightly over his head. She had to have, of course, because she was aware of his...choice haircut, but couldn’t recall the time in which this had taken place.

“And I don’t love you, kid,” he told her with a bit of a bemused look. She thought, maybe, he was mocking her, as he had a strange way of doing that, it felt like, where he said nonsensical things only, once tripping her up on them, acting as if she were the one to drag the conversation towards the insane. “That’s not what that word means.”

“Uh, yeah, it kind of does.”

“Does not.” And he’d lit up, a rolled cigarette, to have with his breakfast, which he puffed at from his chair as the kitchen table which was cluttered with newspaper. But only the funny pages. She wasn’t sure what he did with all the other, many, sheets that came with a newspaper, but he seemed to only have the comics strewn about. “If I’m a fireman, does it mean that I’m the fuckin’ salamander? Natsu? Fuck no. It means that I fight a fire. It’s just a word for it, yeah? Lovers? Don’t mean love.”

“It means you fight love then?”

“Now you’re being silly.”

The whole thing was silly. The entire thing. That she was there and that she was actually eating her gross, burnt eggs, or that she was even therein the first place.

How did she get there in the first place?

Well, it started in the most innocent of ways. There she was, working a shift up at the bar for her sister, minding her business completely, not bothering anyone (though she and Happy were succeeding in annoying Natsu by not allowing him to sleep) when he came in with the Thunder Legion. She rushed (okay, maybe slumped) over to get their orders and caught on rather easily that they were in a rough patch of sorts. If there was one thing you had to be good at to be an attentive barmaid, Mira imparted on her frequently, it’s eavesdropping.

“That can’t be right,” Lisanna told her flat out once. “Mira.”

“It’s not,” Laxus grumbled as he happened to be over that day (he and her sister were inseparable when he wasn’t out on a job) and frowned at the suggestion. “Don’t be listening in on people. It’s rude.”

“Oh, hush.” Mira made a face at him before smiling at her sister. “What’s the point to it anyways? Just working the bar? If you can’t pick up a few secrets here and there?”

Literally just working at a bar, it was turning out, for Lisanna. She found out quite quickly that she wasn’t nearly as good at it as her sister, the entirety of things required to be successful in tending bar. She didn’t...eavesdrop too well, she didn’t feel nearly as attractive as Mira, that ditsy, coy shit Mira did to make the dumb drunks think she actually cared about their pathetic lives was lost on the youngest Strauss.

Honestly, she did good not to just abandon the work all together and hang around Natsu and Happy all day, goofing off.

But it was rather easy, honestly, to pick up on the down mood of the Thunder Legion that day. Even Freed, who was usually in the best humor, seemed rather cross. Not directed towards her, of course, but rather his two teammates.

She only made a bit of a face though when she walked away to get their drinks, glad to find their down attitudes weren’t spreading to those around them. Other than that, she thought little on them. Any of them. She liked the Thunder Legion enough. A lot, even. She found them entertaining in their own separate ways. But she also figured it was none of her business nor interest what was going on with them.

And it wasn’t.

Until she broke the one rule of bar tending.

“Oh, yeah, you can over serve people. I over serve Cana every night,” Mira assured her sister.

“Do you want to get the bar shut down?” Laxus complained any time she tried to teach Lisanna in her ways. “Because this is how we get the bar shut down, demon.”

“The more drinks they have, the higher the tab, the more inebriated they get, the less likely they’ll remember their tab, then you can write anything on their tab and make the guild a lot more money when you have to dock their pay!” Mira was all smiles as her boyfriend and sister only stared in astonishment. She was undeterred, however, instead only insisting, “Honestly, Lisanna, that’s exactly how Master tells me to run the place. How do you think we get out of debt?”

“The old man’s gonna end up in jail,” was all Laxus griped. “And you too, Mira.”

“Well,” Lisanna thought slowly. “They’ll always have a way to save up bail money, at least.”

Still, it wasn’t Lisanna’s intent to get Bickslow so absolutely wasted. At all. She actually found it a bit gross when people were in that state. Slurring their words and falling all about themselves. It wasn’t that she didn’t drink, but rather that in her tight circle around the hall, it wasn’t seen as some sort of social thing, really. Natsu definitely could toss a few back, but him and her rarely did that for fun. There were so many other things to do. They could watch him fight Erza. Fight Gray. Fight Elfman. They could bother Lucy at her apartment. Bother Lucy at the guild. Bother Lucy out on a job. Hang around the guildhall and not even once do any of the jobs Lisanna was assigned with as barmaid.

So much to do.

And that wasn’t even including all the fishing she, Happy, and Natsu did together.

Still, she’d more than realized she’d made a mistake when, given their argument they’d apparently been having among themselves, the rest of the Thunder Legion was nowhere around to deal with the clearly wasted Bickslow that night when it was finally time to close.

Now, Lisanna could have easily gone to Elfman, who would have dealt with it for her, or Laxus, who would have dealt with it because Mira made him, but she didn’t want to bother them. Or allow them to continue to act like she was inept at her job (which yeah, okay, maybe she was, but it was so rude to point that out).

“No,” she told Kinana when, at the end of the night, the man was passed out with his head pressed against the table, a thorough mess. “You deal with Cana every night. I was the one serving Bickslow. It’s my turn.”

Kinana, glad to have this duty relieved, only went off to deposit the money in the safe in the back, leaving Lisanna alone in the bar area with the intoxicated seith. Even his babies seemed to be dormant in that moment, instead just resting on the table, their bodies were a least, not moving in the slightest as she approached.

Now, she’d dealt with her fair share of guys up at the hall who’d had one two many. She’d had angry drunks, flirty drunks, any and every kind there was. She was prepared for whatever Bickslow turned out to be.

“Are you serious? Gross!”

Other than ill.

Yeah, no, when she shook his shoulder and he just turned and vomited all over her, Lisanna was not prepared for such a turn of events. At all.

Blood, sweat, and tears were all abound at Fairy Tail. Unfortunately, puke wasn’t far behind. But all over her shoes? By someone that, while she had a friendly relationship with, but certainly not to the ‘getting sick in front of one another’ kind of way.

She was more than done with the man by that point and Kinana, also a bit green at the thought, only led him up to the infirmary, to sleep off his troubles. Then came the terrible task of cleaning it up and oh, wow, Mira stopped by to check up in how closing was going right at the perfect time.

Laxus, who was with her, only went upstairs to berate the barely conscious Bickslow.

The next day, after spending most of it sobering up, Bickslow was ordered to march down to the Strauss house and apologize to the youngest of the brood, both by Freed and Laxus. And Evergreen, in a roundabout way. She couldn’t have him mucking up the Thunder Legion’s relationship with the Strausses, after all. For personal reasons. That she did not wish to go into, so he better stop implying things about it.

Still, he was a showman above all. Even after a thorough night of drinking, when duty called, an acrobat was always up for the call. He sludged into his gear and muttered to his babies it was best to go ahead and get it all over with.

She was least than enthused when, upon opening the door, she found him standing there. At the sight of her though, he only bowed deeply at the waist, for fear she would tell Freed if he didn’t (it had also been an instruction, after all) before, in his typical bravado, he loudly apologized for his behavior the night before.

“I don’t accept.”

“Eh?”

“Now if you’ll excuse me-”

“Don’t accept? This is outrageous! How could you not accept?”

“Easily.” And she began to shut the door.

He wouldn’t have that, however, and only quickly stuck his foot in there to stop this from occurring.

“Bickslow-”

“I thought you Strauss kids had to be fucking nice?” he griped. “Isn’t that, like, a rule? I feel like you should be written up for this.”

“What are you talking about? And this is really creepy, coming over here and acting like this.” “

Creepy? How am I creepy?”

“Literally in every way.”

“Oh.” And he removed his foot the doorway then. “You really think that?”

She could have just closed the door. But as with a lot of things that she would quickly come to discover in her relationship with Bickslow, it was that she always had that option, yet never took it. There was something in the back of her head that insisted, almost, that she do so. That she back out. That she flat out tell him no every single time they ever had any sort of interaction, but…

“Well, no.” She fully opened the door then. “I mean, I think that other people definitely think that and I’m pretty sure you want most of them to think it, but-”

“Imagine trekking all the way here, after being violently ill-”

“You were drunk. Not sick. Ill of, at best, your own accord-”

“-only to arrive and have the person you were doing all this for, that you got all dressed up for, that you put a happy face on for, basically call you a creep.” He shook his head. “If I didn’t know better, Lisanna, I would think that you were raised by wolves. But as it were, it was merely a demon. Though worse, to some, as a savior of souls, I can understand. We got that in common anyways, eh? Souls and all? So I forgive you. Soul saver to soul savior.”

She only blinked. Then she did again. Finally, she remarked, “Are you really savior to anything? You captured a few souls and now force them into doing your labor.”

“They do that because they want to.”

“Really? Or do you just mind bend them into believing that?”

“And you save anything? More like you eat souls and absorb their power. You’re practically a murderer.”

“Like you know anything about it.”

“I’m the master of souls,” he retorted before lifting up his visor enough to flash her his wild eyes. “I know everything about it.”

They had a staring match then for a few seconds before, with a snort, she gave him an evil eye of her own.

“You,” she accused then, “puked on me. That’s not so easily forgiven. Even if you are over here apologizing for it.”

“Ah, I see now, kid, you want a fair trade, huh?” He nodded down to his own feet. “Try and keep it away from fabric, huh? All shoes.”

“Wha- I am not vomiting on you.”

“Your loss.”

“This is why people call you creepy.”

He dropped his attitude once more before kicking at the ground. “Yeah, well, just trying to make things even, is all.”

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

He couldn’t go back to Laxus and Freed (and Evergreen) without some sort of a truce called between him and Lisanna, however. No. He had to do something to make things up to her. Something…

“I’ll treat ya,” he offered then, resolved once more. “To drinks and a meal. All even.”

“I mean, just covering your tab and giving me a nice tip would probably be a good start-”

“Dinner it is.”

And even though she actually had plans that night (tentative; she was going to hang out with Elf and probably stick around the house for a meal with her siblings), she still found herself getting her things all together and heading out to meet the man, sometime later, for dinner and a drink.

She tried very hard to pretend like this wasn’t the first time she was doing that. Meeting a man for a dinner and a drink. She tried to imitate Mira, honestly, who was far more worldly and experienced than her. In most ways, sure, but the ways of men, definitely. And she didn’t rightly feel, anyways, as if the pair were on a date. Her and Bickslow. It felt more like friends meeting up, maybe, kind of.

Mostly it just felt awkward.

“Light weight, eh?”

Until he said that, having taken note of her hardly sipping on her beer. Lisanna, as with all Fairy Tail members, could smell a challenge far off and was never one to back down from it. So she guzzled down her mug of ale before, with the death gaze, retorted to the seith simply, “Not if you’re buying.”

That way that he cackled had never sat too right with her, but in that moment, it, along with the gleeful cheers from his babies, only seemed to egg her on.

And lead to some less than desirable decisions. She didn’t recall all of it, honestly, as the night seemed to blur, but she did remember having to make up an excuse the next day, to Mirajane, about where she’d been. Even though she was a grown woman. And Mira wasn’t her mother. Or had any say so in the things that she did anyways.

She felt silly, Lisanna did, and even more so the next time she saw Bickslow. She was blushing and embarrassed and flustered and Happy, who’d been sitting in her lap at a table with their friends, took notice immediately as he began to rib her mercilessly under the assumption she was reacting to something Natsu had said.

But she only ignored him as Bickslow, taking notice of her eyes, glanced over. They stared at one another for what was probably less than a second, but felt like an eternity, truly. But he seemed, even beneath his visor, to lack recognition. Instead of motion to her or even looking the least bit flustered, he took his place once more with the Thunder Legion as if nothing had happened.

Only something had happened.

Hadn’t it?

Well, obviously so, but at the same time… Lisanna had never been in this sort of position before. With a man. At all. In any form. For Bickslow to now seemingly be disinterested felt… Well…

She wasn’t into him. Honest. Not really. So she wasn’t, like, heartbroken. But she was a bit confused. Sort of. It was a bit of a stereotype, after all, guys being this way. And though she had no firsthand experience, again, she knew from Mira’s many stories that it wasn’t uncommon.

If she wasn’t interested in Bickslow in a serious way, why should she assume he’d want to pursue her either?  

And if she just pretend, especially if she didn’t remember much anyways, then… Then couldn’t she just pretend it didn’t happen?

No. She knew she couldn’t. But she had to pretend in that moment, just to get her blush to die sown some.

It did bring up an interest she’d never really seemed to have before with her fellow guild mates. She’d now, officially, slept with one of them. Her. Shocking, to say the least. But did that mean… Were others sleeping together as well? Not in the out there way, like Mira and Laxus, but rather the discreet way? The...Lisanna and Bickslow way?

Was everyone sleeping together? In some facet? Would it make her feel less embarrassed to believe this? She tried hard, but for some reason, she felt extremely alone in this regard.

Over a week went by before she and Bickslow even spoke again. She wasn’t working that day, but had come in to glance over the job board when, suddenly, there was Bickslow, looking over the requests just as carefully as she.

“Going on a job?” He seemed to snicker. “Huh? Lisanna?”

“Pick a good one,” some of his dolls hissed.

“Choose carefully,” the others agreed.

She only frowned at them before him as she asked, “What do you want? Bickslow?”

“Can’t a man choose a job anymore? Sheesh, kid, ya fuck a woman raw and suddenly she thinks that she can just control your every-”

“Shut up!” And he hadn’t been speaking loud, not really, but her reaction was immediate as she took to trying to shove him away from her, glancing around to check to see if anyone noticed. Or cared. “Why would you even-”

“Don’t touch me.” He just stood there, after she shoved at him (in vain), before feigning dusting his clothes. “I have an image to uphold around here, you know. Can’t let just anyone go pushin’ me around.”

More importantly though, he’d been told to make nice with Lisanna by the others. If they were caught arguing, Freed and Laxus (and Ever) would not been too pleased. Especially if they found out why they were arguing…

Well, Freed wouldn’t care too much, no doubt, though he’d probably lecture him on being more a gentleman. But Laxus (and Ever) would see it as him encroaching and possibly ruining what was going on with the Strauss family. He couldn’t have that.

Not to mention Lisanna’s oaf of a brother wouldn’t take too kindly with him teasing her. Now, the seith didn’t care much about other opinions and all, but he just wasn’t in the mood to deal with the ogre. Which would, again, lead to the wrath of the others on his team.

Namely Ever.

She huffed some, Lisanna did, as she didn’t want to draw attention to them either. So, with a shake of her head, she turned back to glance over the jobs once again.

“These jobs suck,” the man decided after they’d both fallen into unease. “Don’t you think so, babies?”

“Yeah, Papa,” most agreed. “They suck!”

“Ah, well. Freed’s out of town, Ever’s busy, Laxus ain’t around. What am I to- Oh, wow, Lisanna!” And he sounded animated then, turning to face her once more. “What do you say kid? Wanna hang out?”

“I want you to stop calling me a kid,” she said bluntly, refusing to look at him. “And besides, I just said that I’m going on a-”

“These jobs blow.” And he blew air through his nose heavily, as if to punctuate this. “Let’s get a drink. Again. Your treat this time.”

“Why,” she griped with a frown now, “would I do that?”

“I dunno, kid. Why would you?”

She didn’t know.

But just like with all other decisions he presented her with, she found herself unable to deny him. And it wasn’t a ‘magical’ thing or anything. He wasn’t, like, mind controlling her. She just…

Well…

Maybe she kind of liked Bickslow? At least a little?

Or maybe just any guy who was willing to actually sort of pay attention to her. Even if it was only to get her drunk off cheap booze and, some times, sleep together.

They didn’t that night, but it was only because Lisanna had something to do the next morning (she was going fishing with Natsu and Happy) and she had the wherewithal to know she didn’t want to miss that. Least be asked questions she didn’t want to answer when she turned up late or not at all.

It was weird, but they almost fell into something of a pattern then. If they were both free, they were each others...date? They weren’t official and she was nearly certain that, were Bickslow not so much of a, well, creep, he probably would be seeing other women also, and she definitely could be seeing other men, you know, if she had been, to begin with, but…

Maybe this was growing up. Or at least growing. She’d always imagined her first time being with, well, her boyfriend. Her first boyfriend. Her only boyfriend. And yet it had been rushed and gross, really, and not something she wanted to dwell much on. The second time either. But it was something. Even if it seemed to be a secret between the two of them.

Sometimes she worried it was out of embarrassment that the seith seemed hesitant to call what they had as more than friendship, much less bring it up to anyone in his close knit circle of friends. But other times she realized it was for the best, anyways. Because if another guy, any guy, really, showed the least bit of interest in her, she’d probably stop agreeing to it. To go out with the seith. To come back home to the shitty little apartment with him.

He didn’t seem to mind this, given it felt pretty obvious. She didn’t spend the times he was away on jobs pining after him, and she figured he hardly thought of her, when she wasn’t directly in front of his face. That was fine. Of course it was. Because they were just passing time. That was all.

Very adult. Very Mirajane.

“We’re friends,” she decided for the man that day in his kitchen as she wished his dolls were pets, instead of souls, and she could just pawn her gross breakfast off on them. They did have a charm to them, at least, for what it was worth. “Bickslow.”

“I don’t fuck most my friends,” he offered around a coffee mug that she was nearly certain he’d spiked with something, “but hey, if it works;”

Still, she only sighed, hardly glancing around her surroundings, as she said, “You know, you could clean some. When you have guests.”

“Guests, sure, fine. But you? My nearest, dearest friend?” He snickered. “What’s a little dirt between friends, eh?”

Probably the same as a secret between siblings, but, at least for that day, Lisanna resounded to continue keeping it. She wasn’t sure why. Probably because Mira would try and label things or, worse, fix them between she and Bickslow. OR sic Laxus on him.

She’d definitely sic Laxus on him.

And try and make Bickslow either, you know, commit or quit. Or something equally as stupid as that.

Or worse yet, Mira would give her that disapproving gaze and say she was being used or that Bickslow was no good or why would she go and do that, huh? Throw away her dream of being with her one and only and only her one and only when, for all she knew, she could have been out meeting him instead of sitting in Bickslow’s filthy kitchen, eating the gross breakfast she’d made, as his wooden dolls floated about, chasing one another around the tiny space?

No.

Lisanna didn’t want to deal with any of that. Not yet. Not any time soon.

When the one and only came along, she wanted to kind of just wanted to be able to brush Bickslow and all of this aside as if it hadn’t happened. Passing time would come to an end and they would just… Go back to how things were.

Before he vomited on her shoes.

She was certain the seith would be just as grateful, were she to arrange it out for him in that very way. And it went both ways. If some other woman somehow got passed...all his...traits and somehow…

Well…

If Bickslow met someone, it would be just as well. She could go back to waiting around to do the same and they could be friends, still. Real friends. Normal friends. And she’d be just fine with that. Honestly.

One day this would all feel like a silly dream and, probably, she and Bickslow wouldn’t reflect on it that often anyways.

It was silly and stupid and, at most, it did a good job at making them feel better about themselves in the moment, but moments end. Silliness ends.

Just...not any time soon, it seemed. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the day after. But it hadn’t been yesterday and wouldn't be in the upcoming few minutes as they finished their meal.

“I guess,” he was saying then though, “that I could at least dust sometimes. For my own health too, you know.”

“Mmmm,” Lisanna hummed as he puffed again at his cigarette and she considered making plans with him again, for the next night. Just to go out. Do something. Considering all her friends were out on jobs. “Couldn’t hurt.”