#legend WOULD be a puffy coat guy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

puppyluver256 · 2 years ago

Photo

[Image Description: Three characters resembling younger feminine versions of three different characters deemed “Tumblr Sexymen”, from left to right based on Dr. Habit from Smile For Me, Ingo from Pokemon Black and White/Pokemon Legends Arceus, and Troupe Master Grimm from Hollow Knight.

The first character is a teenage girl loosely resembling Dr. Habit from Smile For Me. She has green skin, long curly red hair in a ponytail, and red eyes with orange sclera. She is wearing a blue coat with turquoise accents and a pink flowery collar, a turquoise belt with a silver buckle, a small dark blue hat, a yellow lily flower in her hair, dark blue tights, and blue high-heeled boots with turquoise accents. She is smiling, revealing a missing tooth. The text on the image is transcribed as a bulleted list after the “keep reading” break, along with a paragraph that is not featured in the image.

The second character is a teenage girl loosely resembling Ingo from both Pokemon Black and White and Pokemon Legends Arceus. She has light skin, short silver hair, and silver eyes. She is wearing a lavender sweater with the circular Pearl Clan insignia on the front, a grey conductor’s hat with a blue and white circular logo on the front, a grey jacket with brown stripes and silver accents resembling train tracks, a brown skirt with silver accents to match the train track design elements of the jacket, lavender leggings, lavender socks, and brown shoes with silver soles. Beside her is a Litwick, a small candle-like ghost Pokemon. It has a white waxy body, a blue flame on top of its head, and green eyes partially hidden by dripping wax resembling “emo” bangs. The text on the image is transcribed as a bulleted list after the “keep reading” break, along with a paragraph that is not featured in the image.

The third character is a teenager resembling a humanoid version of the Grimmchild from Hollow Knight. They have pale grey skin, long red nails, light red eyes with black sclera, and short black hair styled to resemble horns. They are wearing a red sleeveless puffy jacket-style top, a short black cape, a black ribbon accessory that trails down their back, black shorts with black leggings, and black slip-on shoes. On the collar of their cape is a pin resembling the final state of the Grimmchild charm. The text on the image is transcribed as a bulleted list after the “keep reading” break, along with a paragraph that is not featured in the image.

End ID.]

---

okay guys i caved and joined in the sexyman descendants trend despite having never payed attention to the sexyman trend overall, i literally only know that two of the guys these kids are based on were on the poll and grimm has a sexypedia page that i only checked to confirm its mere existence and that + “fashion doll line” was all i was working on, yes i know other people have at least done kids based on habit and grimm but in my defense this has been sitting in my drafts for a while okay i was nervous and also too lazy to write up the text under the readmore for the longest time leave me alone /j

Lilya Habit (she/her), daughter of Dr. Boris Habit

always trying to make people smile

loves flowers and puppets, has a lookalike one called “Miss Habby”

has a passing interest in dentistry from other dad

big sis to Putunia

lost tooth in a model train incident

Of course I had to do one based on the teeth man, even if he apparently didn’t do nearly as well in the tournament as he did in last year’s and losing to someone who shouldn’t be considered a sexy-man at that, Nagito is a minor so if he has to be included it should be as a sexy-boy for the teens to latch onto, but I digress hehe. I realize I coulda gone with a Carla for this, but the joke is kinda to make these kids resemble their sexyman dads, so she’s Lilya instead! Even with a biological daughter in this weird universe I figured Boris and Kamal would still adopt Putunia, and she is the best big sister to the little hero, even if it leads to some punched shins sometimes. ...man, I realized I missed a fun opportunity there in not also drawing Miss Habby XD

Stacey Anville (she/her), daughter of Subway Boss/Warden Ingo

always seems bored

not nearly as loud as her dad and uncle

loves trains just as much tho

loves battling too

feels bad for Lilya’s tooth despite it being an accident

shiny Litwick was bred from Ingo’s Chandelure

Ingo wears black, Emmet wears white, so of course I’d go for grey for Ingo’s kid. Originally I was gonna name her “Donna” as in “downline”, but then I figured “Stacey” would be a better neutral-ish train pun hehe. And of course “Anville” comes from Anville Town, idk what sort of pun that is but iirc that’s one of the places connected to the trains hehe. As for her design, I wanted the outfit to combine both of Ingo’s “homes” so to speak, his original home of Unova and his new home of Hisui. And, of course, the daughter of one of the strongest trainers in both Unova and Hisui is going to have Pokemon of her own, hence the Litwick! I mostly picked Litwick because I like Chandelure most out of Ingo’s team, and because it could cause some silly shenanigans with the third descendent I’m sharing.

Nikki Grimm (they/them), child of Troupe Master Grimm

troublemaker

loves scaring people

sometimes can’t tell when they might be going overboard

tried to eat the flame on Stacey’s Litwick once

very acrobatic

caused Lilya’s “train incident” by sneaking up on Stacey at a bad moment

will hiss at people they don’t like

If you were thinking that this was basically just the Grimmchild (even without reading that image description up there), you’d be right! I figured if anyone was gonna make one of these based on Grimm, that’d be the best direction to go in since he already has a kid of sorts. The fandom generally refers to the Grimmchild as they/them or it/its, right? Someone please, correct me if I’m wrong, I haven’t been able to access the meat of the Grimm Troupe dlc yet in my own playthrough due to not having knowing I didn’t have to have the dream nail powered up enough quite yet. I mean, I might, but I haven’t gone back to the Resting Grounds since I got more essence in order to check. (see if you can guess why I named them “Nikki”, you guys are smart so you’ve got a real good shot at piecing my punnage together ;3 )

Soooo...yeah, that’s my offering to this nonsense, idk if it’s even still a Thing but whatever, sometimes an idea grabs you and you take forever to share the results. If I were drawing these three normally and not with the “fashion doll line” idea in mind, they’d prolly have more varied body shapes. I know Lilya would be much taller than the other two and Nikki prolly wouldn’t have anything resembling boob curvature, but I copy-pasted the body structure and posing to give this thing the exact amount of effort it deserved /j

#sexyman descendants #smile for me #smile for me game #pokemon #hollow knight #jess drew a scribbly mess #no i am not putting this in my main art tag #sfw #image description

49 notes · View notes

byrachel · 4 years ago

Text

QUIL ATEARA BROKEN PROMISE |part one

word count: 1475

summary: after (y/n) was abandoned by all three of her friends, quil tries to win his best friend back by showing her the truth

warnings: some angst??

note: I know this was totally not what you wanted so I will make it up by making a fluffy part two and work on the other requested imagine! Thank you for being so patient!

Once Quil was in her room, she asked herself why she let him in. He cut his hair, got a tattoo and was walking around without his shirt like Sam’s gang, like he would call them. She laughed ironically as she remembered how distraught he was when Embry and Jacob had left them to join him as well. He became exactly what he hated.

She let herself fall onto her bed, trying to comprehend what happened to the boy she used to call her best friend. Quil watched her hopelessly and decided to keep silent, not yet knowing what to tell her. He knew it wasn’t likely she would welcome him with open arms, he was lucky he let her in at all.

As tears blurred her vision, she took the glasses resting on the bridge of nose off her face. She tried to hold up the cold-hearted act, but it only took seconds for it to break, tears burning into her skin as she silently cried. She hid her face in her hands, hoping she would wake up from the awful nightmare she was having.

With an aching heart and a pained expression on his face, Quil slowly walked up to (Y/N). He kneeled down in front of her, getting to her eye level. “I’m sorry.” Were his first words to her in months, whispering in the most apologetic tone. “I’m really sorry, (Y/N).”

“I just don’t get what happened.” She said through her sobs, pulling her hands away from her face. “Why would you do this to yourself?”

“I didn’t have a choice.” He explained meeting her red, puffy eyes. It took everything in him to not wrap his arms around her to comfort her. He hated he was the reason for the pain she was experiencing. “I wish it was different, but I can’t walk away from this.”

The sadness in her eyes shifted to anger in a split second. He chose to be with Sam and his friends over her and their friendship of over a decade. “You can’t walk away from Sam, but you can walk away from me?”

“No, (Y/N), that’s not it at all.” He sighed, regretting the way he chose to word what he was actually trying to say. He was doing more harm than good. “I know it sounds like I’m probably just making excuses, but it was for your safety.”

“That’s your explanation for disappearing for almost two months?” She furrowed her eyebrows angrily at the most cliché excuse she had ever heard, sniffling between her words. “You could’ve called and told me you just needed some space or something.”

“I should’ve called and I can’t tell you enough how much regret not doing that.” He spoke softly. “Just let me make it up to you. I’ll do anything.”

“What could make this okay, Quil?” She sniffled once again, looking down at the floor. “First Embry, then Jacob and now you. You guys are the only friends I had and you dropped me like I was nothing. Do you know how worthless that made me feel?”

By then Quil knew nothing else could fix how she felt, except the truth. He had to tell her what had not only happened to him, but the others as well. He knew that sooner or later he had to tell her, because of their bond but he didn’t want it to be this soon. He had no idea how she would react. Just telling her would make him seem crazy and that was exactly how he felt when he shifted for the first time. It was like a crazy fever dream.

“If I told you that what I’m about to show you will explain everything, will you come with me?” He asked her.

It fell quiet between them for a moment. (Y/N) was trying to figure out what it could be, because she didn’t want to waste her time on his lies any longer. “What is it?”

“I have to show you, otherwise you won’t believe me.” He explained. “But you need to come with me.”

“I can’t just leave right now. It’s bad enough I let you sneak in.” She dried her tears with her sleeve, sighing annoyed at his stupid idea. He knew how strict her parents were. The only reason they were allowed to be friends was because her dad always went fishing with Billy and Quil’s grandad.

“What about tomorrow morning before school?” He suggested with a hopeful voice, because she was clearly considering it.

She bit her lip briefly, but thinking about it she knew she really had nothing to lose. It was either losing him again or him showing a legitimate reason. She had already gotten used to her life without the boys, despite being hurt it wasn’t like she couldn’t continue with her life. It was just dull without them.

She softly shrugged her shoulders, agreeing to meet up with him. “What time?”

“Six thirty.” He smiled softly. He could feel his heart raise from excitement. This was the chance to win his best friend back. She wasn’t fond of giving second chances, but her giving him one meant there was still hope.

The following morning (Y/N) was up much earlier than usual. She was so curious to find out what Quil wanted to show her, but no logical explanation popped up into her head and it had kept her up all night. Yawns passed her lips as she put on her clothes and keeping her eyes open felt like a chore, but just like she had promised she was standing outside of her house at 6:30.

Quil was already on her front porch with a nervous smile. (Y/N) walked up to him as she closed her coat, feeling the cold morning wind stroke against her skin. She was kind of amazed how he was walking around like he couldn’t catch a pneumonia without proper clothing on, but she decided not to comment on it.

“So what did you want to show me?”

“Just come with me.”

She followed him into the forest, the scenery reminding her of every horror movie about teenagers camping in the woods and getting killed one by one. She could feel shivers go down her spine and suddenly regretted thinking about it, not knowing what she was getting herself into.

Quil stopped in his tracks, turning around to her. (Y/N) was looking around her to find anything that stood out as she stopped walking herself, but didn’t see anything. “Is this the part where you kill me?” She sarcastically commented, her eyes shifting between the tall trees and greenery around her.

Quil snickered and shook his head. “No, but I need you to turn around.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, but wasn’t in the mood to argue, just doing what he said. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on or are just gonna stay vague about it?”

Keeping her eyes on the horizon which was barely visible through the leaves, she waited patiently while listening to what Quil was doing behind her. She could hear some shifting and zipper going down, almost turning around to see what he was doing. She stopped herself, blood immediately rushing to her cheeks as she tried to cover up her actions by shifting her weight from one leg to the other. Is he undressing himself? She thought to herself.

“Remember the legends my dad used to tell us? Some ancestors of the Quileute tribe were able to shape shift and protected their people from the cold ones?” She could hear his shorts fall to the ground, but was more focused on what he was telling her than whatever he was doing. She heard him backing up even further away from her. “They aren’t just legends, but I knew you wouldn’t believe me if I just told you so I’m going to show you.”

“Show me?” (Y/N) raised her eyebrows in confusion.

Aggressive cracking and shifting filled her ears, making eyes widen and move further away from Quil before she quickly turned around to see what was happening. Her shaking legs were barely enough to keep her standing as she looked up into the eyes dark grey furred wolf.

She fell back onto her back, a high pitched squeal leaving her lips as she held her arms in front of her to shield herself from the big creature towering over her. Her heart was in her throat as she was bracing herself to be eaten alive. When nothing happened she carefully lowered her arm down to see what it was doing.

He had lied down in front of her, not doing anything but breathing heavily and staring back at her. Those familiar dark brown eyes were staring back at her.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened once again as she leaned towards him. “Quil?”

masterlist | part two | edited

tagged: requested by @midnightcoldrain

#thaliawritesx #thaliawritesasks #the twilight saga #twilight #twilight blog #twilight imagine #twilight wolf pack #twilight saga #twilight new moon #twilight eclipse #twilight breaking dawn #quil ateara #quil ateara imagine #Quil ateara fluff #quil ateara x reader #twiliight wolves #wolf pack imagine #wolf pack #character x reader

210 notes · View notes

itsuki-minamy · 5 years ago

Text

“CANDLES IN THE NIGHT”

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

She thought halfway if she should die.

On the roof of the building at night, she was leaning against the fence and crying tirelessly, looking down at the ground.

If she flies from here, will he reflect on that for a bit? He'll regret it? Can she hurt yourself enough to hurt?

She had that dream, but after all, it was just a dream.

Take her eyes off the dark asphalt between the buildings and look up at the sky. Then, in the distance, she sees an airship swimming gracefully in the sky.

Also known as the "Sky Whale", it is a mysterious airship that constantly flies over Tokyo. From what she hears, a strange foreign owner is on board, but due to the mystery, it was used as a story for various urban legends.

"There was an urban legend of someone who had a hard time getting up off the ground when asking for help."

Remembering one of the famous urban legends, she took a PDA out of her coat pocket.

In order for the "Sky Whale" to pick her up, she must point the sky with a red light application called "candle".

When she searches, she quickly finds the "candle". Download the app from a simple page with no instructions on how to use it, and launch it. Then, something like a literal candle appeared on the PDA screen, and a red light came on.

This light appears to be visible from a distance. Aim for the "Sky Whale", flying away in the sky.

"Hi. It's a good night."

Suddenly, a man's soft voice came from behind.

She looked back, there was a young man in his twenties with a retro camera.

He has a kind smile on his face, and a warm atmosphere that detracts from his alertness.

With puffy eyes and crying too much, she looks at the man.

"Does it seem like a good night?"

"Ah. What happened?"

"No human being would cry on the roof of a building at night and point the "candle" towards the airship...!"

"That's right."

The young man stood next to her with a friendly smile, even though she was so distressed that she wanted to disguise herself as a strange airship.

"Onee-san, do you want to get on that airship?"

"Whatever. I just wanted to escape. It is much better than jumping from here.”

Speaking in a shy voice, the young man laughed cheerfully, "Yes." Feeling ill, she addressed the young man in a low voice.

“But if you get on that airship, couldn't you go home? Before that, is there anything you want to do on earth?”

Drinking to the rhythm of young people, she finally seriously considered what she wanted to do. She didn't have a very positive wish now. She said...

"I want to drink alcohol."

"So, are we going to have a drink?"

"You're flirting me?"

"What?"

The young man laughed curiously.

She thought it was a good invitation, but when she entered the store with a clear, teary face, the young man said, "Do you want to drink here?"

"Eh?"

"I'll buy it. What do you want to drink?"

"Something with 9% alcohol content, very sweet."

"Oh, I understand."

The young man laughed and went lightly.

While wondering who he was, the young man returned with a bag hanging from a convenience store. He took out some cans of chuhai and many sweets and spread them on the concrete on the roof.

"How many sweets did you buy? It is not an excursion.”

"No, if you choose, it will be fun."

With a sigh, she sat down across from the young man. She was not in the right state to worry about her skirt getting dirty, so she sat on the ground like a child.

She opened the can of chuhai, twisting it hard.

Dissatisfied with the fact that she had consumed alcohol and that the smiling young man was smiling in front of her, she was tilting the can at a rapid pace and breaking what was in her chest.

She has been dating her boyfriend for six years since college and promised to get married, booked a ceremony, sent out invitations, then found out that her boyfriend had an affair.

Simply put, that's the reason why she was even thinking about dying.

"Plus! After a while, he took me to a place I didn't like and started to tell me about the woman he had an affair with.”

"Wow, he's such a shameless guy!"

“In the end, I got hurt and the marriage broke up. What can I tell my parents, my friends that I sent them an invitation or my company...?"

She wiped away the tears that came back, and the young man gave her a handkerchief. She felt free to take it, wipe away her tears, and lie on her back on the concrete. He helped her get drunk, she felt bold.

"Ah! I was so sad that I couldn't talk to my friends yet.”

"Yes. You are tired."

The young man offered her a candy with a calm smile. A strawberry flavored pocky. She hasn't eaten recently, but she remembered that she liked that when she was in high school.

She took one from the box he offered her and bit him, and the nostalgic sweetness spread in her mouth.

"…Delicious."

"It's delicious."

The young man smiled. Looking at his face, she felt something that was a little intriguing. She felt like she knew him from somewhere. But after drinking some cans of chuhai with 9% alcohol content, her head was fluffy and the scratch flowed and disappeared.

The young man listened to her for a long time. He didn't give her any useful advice or connoted words, but when she spoke to that young man in a light environment, her anguish that made her think even of death and the search for an urban legend, didn't seem like much.

The young man took her to the taxi rank after drinking, eating, talking, and becoming drowsy.

"See you. Let's drink again if we meet again.”

The young man who took her to the taxi said that, shook her hand, and laughed.

"That young man, my contact information, I didn't even ask his name.”

As she was shaken by the taxi, she involuntarily murmured that.

She thought he wasn't interested, but managed to deal with it. Who the hell was that young man, she felt a fox pinch her.

Starting tomorrow, she will have to deal with the misery that comes with raping her marriage. First, she will contact her parents' house and inform them of the details of the matter. When she thought about it, she felt like she was coming back to sadness and bloating, but when she saw the box of strawberry pocky she ate in her bag, that young man's smile came to life.

"Well... I can handle it."

She said those words.

++++++++++

Three weeks have passed since the day she cried on the rooftop at night and the strange young man spoke to her.

It was three weeks of anger. Various cancellation works related to weddings and explanation of circumstances to each place.

Compassion and curiosity pierced her mercilessly. She spoke to her ex-boyfriend's father, who beat him up, as a consolation.

Fortunately, she was so busy that she didn't have time to sink into sadness. She didn't even have much time alone, because her friends worried about her so often.

Today is Christmas Eve. She was supposed to spend a miserable day after being abandoned by her boyfriend she dated for six years, but she plans to spend the first time in a few years, the Christmas party with a friend who told her to spend it with him.

Before going to her friend's house, when she was walking in Shizume-cho to get the cake that she had reserved, she saw a tall man with sunglasses from the front.

She thought she had seen him somewhere... She thought for a few seconds, and when he stood in front of her, she suddenly remembered it.

"Ahh! Kusanagi-kun!”

It seemed like the first thing he noticed when they called him, and he looked at her face with a surprised expression.

"Ah... Nattsun."

Note: Nattsun attended the same high school as Kusanagi, appears in Chapter 4 of "Kingdom of Red".

"Oh, yes! Wow, it's been a long time! Kusanagi-kun, I haven't been to alumni meetings that much, how many years have it been?”

Nattsun was her nickname in high school. Kusanagi was her high school classmate, handsome and smart, besides, he seemed to be a bit bad, and he was on good terms with the bad boy named "Wild Beast Mikoto".

When she remembered the sights of those days, something came to her mind.

"Ah..."

"Hm? What happens?"

“Kusanagi-kun, when you were in high school, you got along with a strange middle school student, right? A boy who is bright and looks like a smiling little animal... He was always waiting for you in front of the school gate.”

He had sat on the railing in front of the high school and seemed to be waiting in good spirits for Kusanagi and others, so she called him once.

"You are friends with Kusanagi-kun, right?"

The boy smiled and replied, "Yes."

With a smile that people love, she told him that she was Kusanagi-kun's classmate, also that she believed that Kusanagi-kun would be coming soon, and that is exactly the kind of snack she had to feed small animals. She certainly offered him a strawberry pocky that she liked at the time.

The boy's smile at the time overlaps the smile of the mysterious young man who offered her a strawberry pocky on the roof that night.

"Maybe I meet that boy the other day!"

Then, for some reason, something like a pain ran through Kusanagi-kun's expression for a moment.

"Totsuka, he..."

"Yes, Totsuka-kun! He is not like that little animal, he was a handsome man, but I think he had a very similar warmth.”

"That boy, what were he doing?"

"Than? Well... He had a retro camera, so I wonder if I wanted to shoot something..."

"Hehe." Kusanagi chuckled softly.

"Yes, he was probably Totsuka."

A fateful little encounter warms his heart.

"Kusanagi-kun, Totsuka-kun and ... Are you still close to Suoh-kun?"

"Yes."

"I see."

Nostalgic, she was satisfied that Kusanagi-kun was still connected to his comrades, she smiles inadvertently.

"I went through a lot of things before that... I was tired, but when I spoke to Totsuka-kun about what was happening to me, it made me feel better. So if you see him next time, could you thank him?”

"Yes, I will tell him."

Kusanagi smiled slightly, and lifted the bag of cake in his hand slightly.

"I think it's about time to go. There is a girl waiting for this.”

"Oh, yes! Sorry to interrupt you."

Kusanagi-san raised his hand slightly and greeted her, then walked.

Do you have children? Are you married?

She still had something to ask, but she felt it was enough to know that their friendship continued, so she left in a brilliant mood from that sad day.

#k #k project #k stories #k fan clan #totsuka tatara #kusanagi izumo #homra #nattsun

60 notes · View notes

unfried-mouth-wheat · 4 years ago

Text

Rating like four Ace Attorney characters in vibes alone

The man, the myth, the legend. I thought his name was Ace but I guess not??? He gives absolutely golden retriever vibes. I can't tell if it's just the suit but he looks like he's beefy from giving the best hugs. Also while we're on the suit he is absolutely killing the deep blue and magenta the like go bro heck yeah! I would absolutely trust this man with my drink if I were at a bar. Heck, I'd trust him with my life! He gives off very strong himbo energy but like not academically. Like he's very smart but needed a coffee maker to be explained to him about these times before it clicked. 10/10

Where does one begin with this man? First of all he is absolutely killing it with the suit and frilly neck collar. Like his suits range from the crimson color above to like???? Grape wine???? And once again, the frilly neck collar. He's also like rocking the prematurely greying hair so like extra points. Also his name is Miles?????? Like my mutual???? Like bonus points for positive connotation. This guy wants to kiss the other guy so much just trust me on that. I'd trust him with my drink though he'd probably scold me for having beer instead of a rose water wine with ginger and hints of cinnamon aged finely within an oaken cast. 10/10

She's so cute it's almost unfair like just look at her!!! I love her outfit choice being kinda more traditional and I also love her hair like yes work those giant beads you rock. With those shoes it would be a fucking pain to not trip in though sI she's probably a tad bit clumsy but that's okay we love you just as you air honey. I'd absolutely trust her with my drink but she might spill it a little and that's perfectly fine. 10/10

MA'AM, MA'AM PLEASE

Okay so she just???? Has a whip????? Like wow okay hot shut gimme a moment. I adore the puffy sleeves and big bow with crystals like hot damn not everyone is prepared to see perfection each day. I do have a sneaking suspicion that if she were to add a nice leather coat on top of her look though it wouldn't change anything. She also looks like she's going prematurely grey but it's more like cyan????? Either way she kills it. I would trust her with my drink and if anyone else even so much as looks at my cup I feel like I'd come back to a room full of dead men. 10/10

#Before anyone asks no this is not my new fandom. But I am very intrigued by how accurate/inaccurate I was #they all get 10/10 because they deserve it #also because they're all hot don't @ me

3 notes · View notes

jessiewre · 5 years ago

Text

Day 42

Sat 15th Feb

Safari in Lake Nakuru 🦒🦓🦏🦩🌞

The pillows in our room were officially the worst pillows in Africa so far and in the night we’d had to put our travel pillow inside one case, and one of our PUFFY COATS in the other. I planned to file a complaint with Philly Tours first thing the next morning.

On the contrary, the hotel had prepared our takeaway breakfast with so much care and attention. There were proper takeaway cups and packaged up food, including our leftovers from the night before so Phil tipped the two chefs and waiter a dollar each. They were buzzing.

Thankfully, our Safari vehicle arrived (so we hadn’t been completely ripped off by Peter) and it was a good vehicle, not a crappy minibus like we’d seen some people safari’ing in. The two French girls in there were nice but they hadn’t bought their passports with them, so paying at the entrance was a bit awkward - until I reminded them a picture might be fine and they found one on their phones. PHEW.

At first, the safari was a little underwhelming as we could see the edges of the park around us with all the buildings of the town. But then we went around the lake and deeper into the park - and then it was really cool. It was more chilled out than the Masai Mara, not as impressive of course, but still nice. There were quite a few areas that had issues from previous flooding though. A couple of roads had been built up with rocks and we passed a lot of dead trees atmospherically positioned in flooded land with loads of ugly maribou stork birds and baboons around. There was a weird atmosphere in those areas and it sort of felt like they were about to attack the vehicle. Then our driver was like ‘Make sure all the food is hidden as the baboons might attack the vehicle’. Oh god, planet of the apes could be REAL.

We got through all the baboons scratching and picking at each others arses without being attacked, then spotted giraffes and warthogs (there’s always warthogs), but then our driver managed to get us to an AMAZING spot where we saw two adult white rhinos and a baby right next to us! The adults had a bit of a stand off and we watched on in amazement.

We visited a nice waterfall where the water was a little brown from the mud, then we headed to a lodge for our lunch stop. We had bought our lunch with us as Peter had told us it would be 25$ per person to eat in the park, but outside the entrance was a massive sign in capital letters saying NO PICNICS ALLOWED. Great.

After the manager flat our refused for us to eat are food there, we made friends with the waiter and he said we could eat it if we were subtle and ordered other things - so I had a vegetable soup and Phil had a bang average veggie sandwich and chips. We sat with the French girls and one of them randomly said that the best ketchup she’s ever had was when we was in Ireland when she had a delicious homemade ketchup somewhere. LOL did not expect that to be what she remembered about Ireland, Stella & Helen will be disgusted. She also said that the grass on safari was green but the grass in Ireland is the greenest in the world she thinks. Ketchup and grass = Irelands legacy.

While we sat in the restaurant we went to book our train as we’d decided which day to get it. And guess what? It was fully booked again. We’d left it too late, assuming the weekdays wouldn’t be so busy. IDIOTS.

On the afternoon drive, we were lucky enough to spot a black rhino, much rarer to see than the white. It was peacefully grazing amongst zebras, impalas and warthogs - it looked amazing, had a proper tortois-y dinosaur face!

Over the whole safari, we saw:

Buffalo

Giraffe (endangered Rothschild type)

Monkeys

Baboons

Flamingoes

Maribou Storks

Pelicans

Pumbas

White Rhino

Black Rhino

When we got back to the hotel, Phil noticed that his shorts had disappeared from the bush they were drying on outside the room. It was obvious someone had been trimming that very bush as it was all neat and there were clippings on the ground, so Phil asked reception. They assured him they’d ask the gardener and find them. I was convinced they’d been nicked...

We half decided to eat at the hotel again out of pure laziness and fatigue, but as soon as we walked in I was like Why are we here. It ain’t for a plate of vegetables thats for sure. So we went to reception to get a taxi to town as we knew there was a Java cafe there and it was a safe bet, and plus if we went to town, we could book our coach tickets for Nairobi to the coast (damn you fully booked train!).

Our taxi driver annoyingly dropped us at a little shop with a Modern Coast kiosk that was CLOSED instead of the actual Modern Coast office HOW BLOODY USELESS. So we ended up walked through the busy town while really hungry looking for a tuc tuc to get to the right place. Then we saw Java cafe on a corner so thought screw it, We’re really hungry so lets just eat first.

But then...we walked over and the door was LOCKED. I could see people inside eating their food, but it had closed at 7pm and it was now 7:15pm. Oh ffs.

We stood outside it feeling a little sad, then the manager walked over to the door, popped his head out the door and smiled at us ‘There’s another Java cafe if you want to eat, just over in the Mall!’. OMG what a legend, we KNEW Java wouldn’t let us down like this. Thanks random man 👍🏽.

We jumped in a tuc tuc to go to Modern Coast and Phil jumped out to get the tickets while I paid. The driver and his mate (not sure why he had a mate with him but whatever) then tried to overcharge me. I paid them 200ksh as that was more than enough and then one of them was like ‘Miss, Buy me a tea’. He had this really annoying look on his face like he was telling me I had to do it. Excuse me buddy, that is not how you ask someone if they’d like to buy you a gift.

We needed a tuc tuc to get to the mall but I didn’t want to go with them out of principal so we walked there like fools. It was only 10 minutes but it was down a crappy dusty busy road and we were hungry. But at least we had our morals right?!

We passed a shop with hats and remembered my quest for a baseball cap (look, I know its a bad idea, but I need one for safaris okkkkkkk). I tried a few on and honest to god it might be the worst I’ve ever looked ever. HORRENDOUS. So no, I didn’t buy one. The search continues.

Dinner at Java was half good and half annoying. Our starter of tomato soups were bought over and the girl said ‘Two chicken soups’. Uh, no love, we ordered tomato soup - so she walked away to check with our waitress who was dealing with another table. This waitress then bought the soups back over and fully tried to blag it ‘Two chicken soups’ she said as she tried to palm them off onto us. I’m not gonna lie, part of me wanted to just take the chicken and peanut soup as I’ll bet it was tasty as fook. - but no, we told her the mistake and waited patiently for our TOMATO soups.

After the soup, I honestly felt full (mental I know) so my Mexican burrito was ready for takeaway after two bites. Phil managed to devour his vege burger no problem.

On return to the hotel, still no sign of the shorts (cos they’d been nicked obvs) but I forced the reception guy to find me new pillows and he basically broke into someone’s room while they weren’t there and took the pillows off their bed. BOVERED cos they were SO much better, as in, they were actual pillows and not a bag of socks. So I went to bed happy. Well, I did until I checked my phone and saw the news that Caroline Flack had passed away. It wasn’t officially suicide at that point, but from the reports it seemed the most likely scenario. It felt incredibly weird to be sat in Kenya and to think she’d died that very day, while we’d been on a safari, and we went to bed feeling very strange and very sad.

1 note · View note

meshugana1 · 6 years ago

Note

"On Halloween night a where it's full of scares and fright, one soul wanders to find some 'treats' of his in the form of women he likes to bone. But as this holiday has taught us that girls can carry a lot of tricks especially one group which which usually are ideal for sorting out these kinds of pricks." To clarify, all the girls turn one man into an anthro Black cat with 6-breasts,green eyes,a slutty witch costume but just hat, toe/heel showing witch stockings and jack-o-lantern bell collar.

William zipped his pants up and left the young princess to tidy herself up in the bushes. How he loved Halloween. Even the stuck up girls put out. Must be the full moon or that escapist feeling in the air this time of year. It was the perfect time for a guy like him. He didn’t even have to put much effort into his costume. Just a white t-shirt, a pack of cheap cigarettes rolled in the sleeve, his hair slicked back with pomade, and jeans with a pair of cheap boots. It was the total Brando package, and he didn’t even have to spend thirty bucks. It already paid for itself, that was the third bimbo so far that wrapped her lips around his seven inches and the sun hadn’t even set yet.

As he rounded the corner, he already spotted his next conquest. The first thing he saw was tits, huge juicy ones. They were attached to a pretty face too, beautiful tan skin, really sexy eyes, and hair like a wildflower. Her costume didn’t hurt her figure either. Pink, nearly transparent silk, covered her fabulous tits and even her goofy airy silk pants couldn’t hide an ass that went on for days. God love the genie look. William sauntered over with his usual confidence, the bulge in his jeans was obvious and warned of exactly what he wanted. “Sup pretty lady? You seem like you need some company, my night is free if you like what you see,” William said. The woman looked William up and down. ‘What was it about this night that made it so easy?’ She thought. This would be the forty-third boy she came across trying to take advantage of her, it was too easy really. “Well thank you, young Master, I am but a humble genie, and I would love to repay you. So, your wish is my command Master,” She said. She held her hands in front of her chest and popped her hips slowly to a rhythm William could not hear. “Well then, I think first I’ll wish for you to give me a little pussy, then—” “WISH GRANTED!” She said snapping her fingers. There was a flash and a surging of smoke from her feet. William coughed and waved the air clear, and spotted the crazy girl’s ass bouncing away. “All you had to do was so no, crazy bitch,” William said. He did what he usually did when he was rebuffed, he reached he’d down to readjust his semi-turgid best friend. He patted his left leg, where it usually rested but felt only thigh. He checked the other but found nothing still. He gulped, jamming his hand into his jeans. He felt skin, on a night like tonight he would always forgo underwear, it just got in the way. But as he rubbed his crotch, he didn’t feel his shaft, nor his balls, nor his head. He just felt a little…tingly? He didn’t give up searching, but then, on a downstroke, his index finger slipped inside him. His knees shook, his finger was wet, and when his nail grazed a sensitive little bud of nerves, the mystery was solved. “MY COCK TURNED INTO A CUNT?!”

William ran hard, pants dangling by an ankle and dripping pussy exposed to the nippy air. He gave no thought to his direction, his eyes stared ahead blankly. He rounded the corner and struck something soft, then two bodies crashed into the ground. His bare ass rubbed into the ground and the long grass tickled his pussy. “What the hell dude? *Pbbbrrrbbtt* Watch where you’re going!” The woman said. William looked at the victim of his panicked dash. The first thing he saw was an enormous round belly attached to an incredibly sexy woman. Her breasts were glorious and her ass was the stuff of legends, if she could lay off the burritos, she would’ve been another fine woman he would love to let suck him off if his circumstances were different. “Uh, sorry,” William said. He tried to raise himself off the ground, but the shock from his sudden transformation was setting in and they remained rooted to the earth. “Oh! I’m so sorry, *fffwwweeeeeenn* I guess ‘dude’ is a bit offensive huh? My bad, *Splorttt*” she said. Why would she say that? He thought. Then he remembered his state of dress, and what he was unintentionally exposing to her. “Wait, NO! I’m not trans, I was cursed or something, I don’t normally look like this I swear!” “Cursed? *Brrrrrrrbbbb* Really? *Flablatch* No way! I can totally help! I’m Stacey and I’m a witch in training,*fffffffffffffffffffffffffffp*” she said. Fifteen minutes ago he would’ve thought she was some crazy pregnant chick, but now the scales had fallen from his eyes and he would grasp at any straw. “Really!? Oh please help me, I’ll do anything!” “No problem. *Rrrrrppppppttttt* I understand what you’re going through too, just brace yourself. *Ppppppppppppttttrrrr* I probably can’t fix all off this but I think I can put one thing back to normal at least,” Stacey said. William was a smidge confused. There was only one thing wrong with him so how could she miss? Stacey began speaking, and letting out a long, high pitched fart, in a language William had no hope of knowing. Her rate of strange words increased along with her gas. Then she just stopped, and William felt a twinge in his chest. He pulled up his shirt and saw his nipples had become puffy and erect, and his pecs started to look a little fatty. He then felt a tremendous sense of vertigo and the ground rapidly approached him. Then his chest trembled and surged forth with such force that it knocked him off balance. He had fleshy bags attached to his chest topped with large, puffy nipples. He couldn’t say the word, he wouldn’t say the word. “Well, *Blort* that’s all I can really do without making it worse. You got a doozy of a spell on you. *Sprrrutut* I hope that get’s you back to normal a bit, bye! *Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr*” Stacey said. She turned and waddled away, the sounds of gas still echoing into the night.

William shambled against a fence. Twice, how could the same thing happen to a guy twice in less than an hour? It was like being struck by magical lightning, then getting hit by a magical meteor. He felt his…chest, dangle and bob with every step. He knew this fence, it was some recluse middle-aged ladies. He used to be tall enough to peer clear over the top, now thanks to that gassy bitch he was a foot too short. William didn’t even have the will to put his pants back on. What was the point? All people would see of his living nightmare was a costume of a gender-bent freak. He continued on his hopeless march when he rubbed himself against a soft pair of tits coming around the corner. “WHAT?! How dare you touch me so casually!” William heard, he didn’t care. What else could happen to him. Going to jail would be an improvement at this rate. “Are you ignoring me you little bastard? You think you can fondle a goddess and get away with it? I know your type little man. You think you’re just a real tomcat, don’t you? I can tell you’ve already been given a few lessons, but they clearly aren’t enough for someone like you,” The woman said. “What? Oh god no, no! Please don’t, it was an accident! Leave me alone!” William said. He didn’t wait for an answer and turned to run. His shorter legs pumped as hard as they could but nothing was moving around him. The woman held her hand out, suspending him in the air. “You want to be a little Tomcat? Fine! One little change though, I’d hate to erase your progress!” She said. William flailed in the air. Three times, three fucking times! His clothing dissolved into nothingness, exposing his new breasts and pristine pussy completely. His short body began to contract even further, reducing him to just barely above four and a half feet. What remained of his masculine form began to melt away. His arms became supple and graceful, so did his legs. His waist contorted into a tiny shape, his legs became slender at the calf but tremendously thick in the thigh. His ass tingled, then it felt like it was falling out, becoming a tight, round fanny. All his muscles faded away, his facial features softened, going from the hard face of a rugged man to a supermodels visage. No trace of him was left. Then it got worse.

The hairs on his arms having nearly gone were returning with force. Same with his legs. Before this evening, he was gifted with very light flaxen hair. But his hair growing in now was black as black. It was probably the same on his head, he could feel it coming down his neck and slipping past his shoulders. It was getting thicker and thicker, soon it coated his arms and legs so entirely that he could see no skin beneath any of it. His new fur shined glossy. There was a pinch atop his head as pointed ears, much better suited for his new shape. Another pinch came above his engorged bottom as his spine lengthened nearly four feet. Unceremoniously he dropped toward the ground. He twisted and distorted his body on the way down without effort. His arms and legs hit the earth first, catching him. “There, now you look the part, Pussy. Maybe you’ll think better of trying to cop a feel on a goddess with your filthy paws,” she said. She turned aggressively on her heel, then left down the sidewalk leaving William to lick his magical wounds.

He sat there a while, squatting, feeling his tail flick back and forth. “FUCK! FUCKFUCKFUCK! Why?! Why me?! I didn’t do anything and now the universe has fucked me FOUR FUCKING TIMES! Now I’m a big tatted cat bitch?! Of fucking course! Why not? Who cares?! Is that all you got? Can’t get any worse so bring it the fuck on! What’s next? Antlers? A cock on my forehead? How about a whole buncha titties? Could always use more of those right?!” “Well, now that you mention it that doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” came a small voice behind him. Every hair on Williams body stood on end. Every muscle tensed and he shot into the air nearly fifteen feet, landing in the recluses yard. The hair all over his body stood on end and his arms and legs remained stiff and outstretched. “Holy Titania, sorry didn’t mean to scare you kitty,” the voice came again. William turned and saw something he both feared and begrudgingly expected. It was a tiny blonde woman, no more than six inches tall, floating there in a green dress. “Let me guess, you’re gonna change me too? Fucking great, FUCKING GREAT! Well, get on with it you little freak. Do your fucking worst!” William said. “Hey! Don’t you yell at me you little bitch! I know you’re having a rough night, fella, and maybe if you were nicer, I would’ve helped you out. But now? Well, you reap what you sow!” She said. Yellow light shot from her hands and struck William below his breasts. He felt a cramp, followed by three others. Then his shoulders slumped as four new pairs of breasts, each one equal to his first set, weighted him down so much he was forced nearly to all fours. “There, enjoy what being an asshole gets you,” the fairy said. With that, she turned and left in a blinding display of speed.

William plopped down on his round bottom and grabbed one of his middle tits. They felt so heavy. His chest began to heave, then the tops of his original pair of jugs began to moisten with his tears. It was so unfair. All he wanted to do was get his dick a little bit wet, that’s all. What was so wrong with that? Now he was a freak, a six titted cat freak. What was he going to do? Where could he go? His family wouldn’t recognize him now, none of his friends would care beyond wanting to fuck him. He was screwed. Stuck crying in the cold and the grass. “Perfect!” He decried. “I’ll say,” a sultry voice said behind him. He wasn’t surprised this time. His new ears picked up the creaking of the porch ages ago. The woman was simply stunning, beautiful olive skin, a voluptuous figure and a sexy as hell witches costume. “You look like you’ve had a rough night,” she said. “Oh yeah, sniff, how can you tell?” William said. “Well, the tits give it away. Come on up here, no need for tears.” “Like hell there isn’t,” William said as he sulked up the steps of her porch, “Look at me! I’m practically a monster.” “Hardly, I’ve seen monsters before and you are quite far from that. I’d even say you look pretty cute.” “Oh what, are you a witch too or something?” “Yeah, isn’t the costume obvious?” She said with a smile. “Oh.” “Don’t worry little kitten; I’m not going to hurt you.” “Might as well, everyone else with magical powers is.” “Actually, I was going to ask if you might want a job.” “A job?” “Yup, interested?” “What kind of job could I do like this?” “Well, most witches have familiars, but I’ve never really gotten around to it. I’m not exactly proactive, but when such an opportunity lands in ones lap it is unwise not to take advantage.” “What does a familiar do? I don’t have to do anything crazy or satanic do I?” “Satanic, really? I just run a little store of oddities and antiques. I guess you’d run the counter sometimes, organize, anything else I need, maybe test out new magical items I acquire, that sort of thing. And of course, you’d be living here with me. What do you think?” “You’d want a giant titted cat monster running the store while you’re at lunch?” “I have a myriad of items at my shop kitty; they’re almost all of a magical nature. There are more than a few that would change the way you look to something a bit more socially acceptable. So, what do you think?” William didn’t need much time to think. “What choice do I have?” William extended his hand to her, “I’m William.” “Pleasure to meet you, I am Saveta, but you’ll call me Mistress when it’s just us from now on,” Saveta said as she clasped his outstretched hand. William felt a surge coming from her hand that left him weak in the knees. “I don’t know about that Mistress, sounds a little too kinky. Wait what? I just called you Mistress instead of Mistress. Oh crap, is this magic again?” “Yeah, sorry. It’s best you don’t think too hard about it until you’re used to it. But here, a little welcome home present,” Saveta said. She lifted her hands and seemed to produce a choker from nowhere. It looked expensive. It was jack-o-lantern shaped, of course. Saveta placed it around Williams’ neck, it fit perfectly. The moment she clasp was locked it disappeared, and William was bathed in a blue-hued light. A witch’s hat, nearly identical to his new Mistress’s appeared on his head. It even had holes specially placed for his ears. “A hat?” William said. “The bell has a pretty nice feature too,” Saveta said. She curled her finger and flicked the bell, sending the ring into Williams’ ears, then she did it again. The bell began to glow, then Williams world seemed to collapse in on itself. Where he was once sitting, he now was suspended in mid-air. As he fell to the chair, he contorted, catching himself on the seat cushion. He felt claws, whiskers, and warmth from the fur now covering his entire form. “Mrrow?” “Useful right? Just for when company is over. And two more hits to change back,” she said striking the bell twice. William popped back into his human-ish form. “That feels so weird!” “You’ll get used to it; you can do it yourself too you know, should the need arise. Now come along inside, I’d like to take those tits for a test ride before anymore trick or treaters arrive,” Saveta said delivering a swift and sharp smack to Williams’ bottom, that answering more questions about what she meant than anything else.

The End. Hope Y’all like it!

#Halloween #MTF tf #TF #anthro tf #anthro cat tf #multibreast #breast expansion #ass expansion #animal tf #request

52 notes · View notes

hellnla-conspiracy · 7 years ago

Photo

DELEÓN “DIDDY” KING CONSPIRACY - DID HE SELL HIS SOUL?

“Hey what’s up guys today we're going to be doing another conspiracy theory. Now today's video is packed we have so many things to talk about so let's get started. We're going to be talking about the rap mogul Deleón King and how he got his empire...Deleón Dynasty formerly known as Rockefeller Entertainment. If you didn’t know Deleón King is the son of R and B Legend Quincy King.” Shane speaks slowly in a creepy tone with creepy music playing in the background.

“I found this story online, and I had to share it with you all. By the way this is all just a conspiracy, so diddy don’t kill me.” Shane snorts. Shane looks straight ahead and reads the insert word to word. “As many of you know I’ve been in the business for about 15yrs in various positions. It was during the summer of 1994 a friend and I were in LA for the Soul Train Music Awards. I was working the event, one of my girlfriends was friends with Wolf (Now dead) he was one of Deleón King’s best-friends and I like to call him his male groupie on the payroll.”

Shane pauses and blinks at the screen, “That sounds like a nice job. actually.” He snorts again

“Anyway we chilled with Diddy, Wolf, Warren G, and a few others the following day after the awards and vowed to hangout when we got back east. That evening us girls caught our flight and arrived home safely, 2 day’s later my girl get’s a call from Wolf wanting to hang so we all agree to meet at Puffy’s apartment which at the time was on 23rd street. We get there and we commence to partying and hanging out, Smoking, drinking and doing the things you do when you hang-out. About 3-4 hours into the hang-out session Wolf calls myself, my girlfriend he’s trying to holla at, and our other girlfriend to come downstairs. So we leave everyone else and follow him I assume he asked just us based on the conversations we’d all been having back in Cali and earlier that evening. We get downstairs and the room is completely blackened out.”

There were couches and a small table in the room, Wolf asked us if we believed in GOD? We all said yes. Nobody was really taking shit seriously hell we was F#$^cked-up, anyway he asked us individually what we wanted out of life and if by some chance we could have would we do anything for it? Like young chicks we all basically in unison was hell yea! He said good and told us to sit down on the floor, so we did. Puffy wasn’t saying anything during our initial questioning, then he joined us on the floor. We sat in complete silence for about 10 minutes just looking back at one another, and then Wolf, Puffy and Suga Dice started chanting this crazy stuff. At this time the room started to become colder and colder by the minute to the point I was becoming uncomfortable cause I likes it hot all the time.

“So the chanting doesn’t bother her, but the fact it’s cold in the room does cause she likes it hot all the time? Well okay I guess.” Shane says while rolling his eyes.

Still our dumb ass’s didn’t move or say anything that is until they started talking in voices that didn’t sound like what they were previously talking in. At this point it was so cold in the room you could see your breath and I was completely not up for what was going down or about to go down, hell I didn’t know what was happening all I know is I knew it was time to go I didn’t want to play anymore. I motioned to get up and Wolf shot me a look that seemed to go right through me, I was scared then. I tried to move but couldn’t so I just started praying, praying real hard (something I hadn’t done ever). I didn’t do it out loud but the more i prayed the angrier they got it seemed until Puffy looked at me and told me to get out. Not anyone else, just me. I was so scared I didn’t even look back at my other two friends I just went up back upstairs. I grabbed my coat and left, Honestly everyone left upstairs seemed to be looking at me real crazy, I got home and tried to forget what happened. The next night I had what I thought was a nightmare but it was as real to me as I’m sitting her typing, I was laying in bed and about to dose off to sleep when I smelled something, mind you I was in my apartment alone and hadn’t cooked anything all day. It was a rancid smell almost like a foul man’s odor, then my apartment became Ice cold like the night before, and as I tried to wake myself up I felt hands holding me down. Again I prayed to GOD to help me, that what ever was happening to me please save me, it felt like I prayed and struggled all night. When I finally woke up the next morning my body felt like it had been through a battle I was sore and my upper arms were bruised. I later told my Nana (very, very religious) what happened and she said that somebody or something was after my soul. I went on for a couple more years living on the edge before I became born again and realized what was trying to be done to me. Sad thing is, I was so eager and anxious to be down and get put on I almost sold my soul to the devil to get ahead.”

Shane’s mouth drops and he just sighs deeply. “She left her friends there and I will say that she said her friends stayed and their lives are pretty much shit now. But her life is fine so I guess as long she’s okay it’s all alright.” Shane claps his hands together, “Well I think Diddy definitely did sell his soul or was born without one. OO OO OO I wonder what makes his sons? Were they even baptized. Were they even born with a soul? Because it’s crazy how their all doing good in something but they have no talent.” Shane snorts, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But in all seriousness. That story was creepy. I don’t know how to feel about this honestly.” Shane smiles.

“This can all be made up but what if this was all real...until next time everybody.”

5 notes · View notes

sonsoflucis · 7 years ago

Text

as brothers, we fall | nsfw

a possible explanation for what happened once noctis went into the citadel at the end of the game to confront ardyn

NSFW | warnings: blood, injury, ffxv spoilers, death, implied death

Gladio’s sword broke through the daemon’s hide, weakening it enough for Prompto to deal the final blow, sealing its fate. It burst into an array of multicolored fragments, the closest thing to stars they’d seen in years. Prompto high-fived the shield, wiping a tiny trickle of blood off his upper lip.

“We still make a great team,” he mused, shooting a smaller daemon materializing near the grand staircase. The daemon shattered before it even finished spawning and Prompto pumped his fist in the air.

“One short,” Gladio murmured behind gritted teeth, looking up at the Citadel with anguish soaked eyes. It had been only moments since Noctis had ascended to summon the kings of old, but it felt like ages. We’d only just gotten him back. We were supposed to have more time. I couldn’t even give him a decent goodbye.

“Gladio, we need to make sure Noctis can complete the ceremony undisturbed!” Ignis bellowed, gingerly tugging at the bit of his uniform caught on a piece of distorted metal work. He tipped his head toward the hoard of daemons spawning, a seemingly relentless wave of spite and scourge. Gladio turned back to the strategist, a weak attempt at a joke to lighten the mood hanging off his lips, when he saw the wide, jagged gash zigzagging up Ignis’ mangled calf.

“Iggy, what the hell happened!?” Gladio hissed, trying not to draw the daemon’s attention to his wounded friend. “Stay there, I’ll come to you. Don’t move-”

“I’ll be all right, defend the Citadel!” Ignis retorted earnestly, tossing his shattered glasses aside.

“Like hell I’m leaving you!” the shield spat, ducking behind the hollow shell of a car.

Ignis sat under a large, crumbling chunk of stone, grasping at his uniform, trying to find a thin piece to tear off to use as a tourniquet. “Gladiolus Amicitia, as the King’s Shield, your duty is to protect-”

“To protect him!?” Gladio snarled from his hiding place. The daemons drew ever closer, throaty grumbles echoing across the ruined streets, their cries bouncing off of a city turning to ash. Gladio crouched lower, stealing a glance at Prompto who had his hands over his ears, wincing at the daemon’s rage.

“No, you are here, Gladio, to see him through to the end. To bring the dawn!” Ignis snapped, grimacing as his leg brushed against the ground. He shakily lowered himself down to tend to his laceration, a hunk of his Crownsguard attire in his hands, ready to become makeshift gauze. “You are here to see that your sister sees the dawn!”

“You leave Iris out of this, Ignis, I swear to the Six...”

“G-Gladio, I-”

“Shut up, Prom!” Gladio shouted. “Before you get yourself killed!”

Prompto bit back a nasty insult but thought better, a shiver rolling through him as the daemons screeched angrily, searching for their prey. There were too many. The gunman instinctively reached for his pistol and felt only air. “Huh?” He held his palm up, summoning his gun, yet nothing happened. Prompto shook his hand, trying again. “I- what... What the fuck?” Nothing. Again and again he channeled his weapon and time and time again it failed. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Not even the familiar electricity coursing through his veins before it materialized.

“Gladio, something’s wrong!” Prompto cried, crawling further into his hiding spot.

“I don’t want to be the Shield anymore!” Gladio shrieked, clenching his fists. “I want to be his friend! His ally! We should be in there!”

“So we can do what, exactly? Allow ourselves a front row seat to his de-”

“Don’t you say it. Don’t you fucking say it!” the shield warned, moving to a closer, taller bit of debris, avoiding the daemon’s search, but only just.

“You knew coming in here what would happen. The lore foretold his destiny before you were ever a thought in your mother’s womb!”

“To hell with legend, Ignis!” Gladio’s voice cracked, his brawny form shuddering in the shadow of the debris. “To hell with it-”

“Gladio, listen!” Prompto cried, crawling over to the brute of a man. “Gladio, something’s wrong, my gun, it won’t-”

“I told you to shut up, kid!” He knocked Prompto back easily, but Prom could only focus on the thundering footsteps of the pack of daemons overtaking them. The gunman regained his balance and gripped Gladio’s collar tightly.

“Gladio, my gun is gone! I can’t summon it!” Prompto bawled hoarsely, shaking him. “What is going on? What does this mean!? Gladio, what happened?!”

Gladio yanked Prompto off of him coldly. “What on earth are you going on about?” Ignis stopped wrapping his leg, face paling.

“Prompto, what did you say?” he called out, sitting up straight.

“The w-weapons,” he choked out painfully. “Noct...”

Gladio glared at the blonde wildly, mouth twisted into a sneer. He extended his arm, waiting for the weight of his sword to fall into his open palm. Nothing happened. Gladio’s eyes widened, reaching his arm out again. “No...” He looked up at the blonde and Prompto saw genuine fear flicker across the man’s scarred face. He’d only ever seen Gladio frightened to that extent one other time. ...in Gralea.

“No, dammit, NO!” Gladio’s chest rose and fell violently, his breathing erratic.

“Prompto, RUN!” Ignis’ voice echoed amongst the white noise consuming Prompto’s entire existence. Like the world was encased in molasses, time ticked by at an agonizing snail’s pace. His eyes traveled up the rocky debris slowly, falling upon the enormous, fanged face of one of the daemons, claws already swinging towards them. Before either of the men could react, a horrible cracking noise vibrated through the air as the stone split, erupting into shrapnel and dust. The daemon’s other claw came down unceremoniously, sending Prompto sailing backward into a fallen lamp post, Gladio tumbling harshly next to him, a resounding pop and splinter drawing a pained howl from his broken body. Prompto coughed, clutching his side, only getting a moment to adjust to the pain before the daemon delivered another righteous blow to the companions. Gladio heard Prompto’s strangled cry, but couldn’t see him for the thick, grey haze of dust coating the area.

“Prom!” Gladio choked out, frantically scrambling to stand. The daemon swiped at him furiously, missing him by a hair. Gladio’s left arm hung limply by his side, void of all pain, a more worrisome predicament. He gripped it tightly, limping over to where Ignis hid, sliding deftly behind whatever he could to avoid the daemon who’d lost him in the haze. “Iggy, get up,” Gladio ordered bluntly, kicking his boot. “Prom is down, we gotta get him.” Gladio shrugged off his Crownsguard jacket and tested his arm, feeling for a dislocated joint or a break, bruises blossoming over his tattooed flesh. “Ignis, come on, the dust is clearing,” he hissed sharply, the outline of the daemons growing clearer in the foggy streetlamp glow. He dropped his arm and bit back an unholy noise at the pain shooting through his chest and back. A whisper of a whimper escaped his lips, dying on a sharp exhale. “You ready?” Gladio questioned, shaking his head and moving to Ignis’ side.

“Iggy, did you hear... me...” The shield’s voice trailed off, driven away by shock and horror. Ignis was splayed out where he hid, an intimidating pool of blood oozing out from under his lifeless form. His hair matted with more crimson, a crisp calm etched across his face. “I-Iggy...?” The strategist didn’t move, didn’t breathe, eyes half-lidded and cloudy. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was merely stargazing. Fat, wet tears pushed through the grime on Gladio’s cheeks, falling onto the cool asphalt. Gladio knelt beside him, his boots squelching in the growing puddle of blood.

“Iggy, please,” Gladio whispered, sniffling. “Iggy, we gotta help Prom.”

Ignis’ skin held no light, no warmth. Gladio leaned over him, pressing his forehead to Ignis’ chest and weeping uncontrollably. He chanted his friend’s name like a prayer, hair falling around his face, sticking to his sweaty skin. Maybe if he said it with enough conviction, he would stir, a reprimand primed to scold him for not fighting.

But there would be no miracles tonight. The daemons crushed anything they could get their claws on, stomping through burning reminders of a kingdom doomed to darkness. His ears pricked, picking up faint footfalls headed toward him. Gladio slowly raised his head, squinting into the dirt cloud, eyes locked on a stumbling shadow. Prompto gasped, moving past the remaining hiding places, seeing daemons where nothing lurked, doubled over, breath rattling. He fell at Ignis’ side, his uniform in tatters, and steadied himself on his shoulder, wheezing.

“Guys, are you-” he stopped mid-sentence and sucked in a breath, recoiling in disgust. “Oh my Gods!” he wailed, scrabbling backward, slipping in the coagulating blood. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” Prompto held up his crimson-stained hands, pure terror taking hold of him. He desperately wiped his palms on his pants, long after all the blood was gone. Before he could rub his flesh raw, Gladio took Prompto’s slender hand in his own, calloused skin catching on the soft edges of Prom’s palm. He tugged at him, motioning for him to sit on the side housing his defunct arm. Amber eyes met blue, sharing a solemn truth, both blinking back tears, both accepting what was to come. Taking a lungful of air, Prompto begrudgingly rose, wincing at the deep injury erupting in his side, and plopped down on Gladio’s left, tilting his head to rest on him. Gladio slipped his hand under Ignis’ blood slick arm, cradling his broad shoulders as tenderly as he could, hoisting Ignis up until he rested in his lap. The shield looked down at Prompto’s red splotched face, his puffy eyes, and kissed the top of his head. The weapons were gone which meant...

The line of Lucis has ended. Noctis is dead.

Faltering breaths overtook him, tears falling once more, this time onto Iggy’s peaceful face. Gladio swiped them away with his thumb, leaning his head on Prompto’s. The blonde was sobbing quietly to himself, feeling a rapidly expanding numbness settling over his body.

Gladio sniffed, clearing his throat. “I, uh... I really... love you guys. I-” he groaned, reeling from the pain emanating in his dead arm. “...I am proud to... to have been on this journey with you three.”

Prompto sidled up closer, the daemon’s booming footsteps headed right for them. “Your dad w-would’ve been proud, Gladio,” he mumbled, lip quivering. “Iris has the bravest big brother around.”

Gladio chuckled softly, his thumb caressing Ignis’ cheek. “You know, you should’ve asked Cindy out, man. She has... such a thing for your scrawny ass.”

“You think?” Prompto answered brightly, closing his eyes.

“Oh, I know she does. Those big, beautiful eyes batting in your direction any time we passed through. You were too b-busy with that damn camera...”

Prompto laughed, a little more tired this time. “I would’ve made her so... so h-happy,” he sighed. Gladio’s face fell. “I’m going to miss them all... so much.”

Prompto drifted in and out of consciousness, coughing up a mouthful of blood. He didn’t even have enough energy to stop it from running down his chin. Gladio buried his face in the blonde’s hair, the daemons surrounding them. He pulled Ignis’ body in closer, bracing himself for their onslaught. The daemons grabbed the cement and metal covering the three heroes and tossed it to the side effortlessly, roaring. Gladio let out one last breath and opened his eyes, staring the largest daemon down, his final act of defiance.

We’re coming, Noct.

#ffxv #ffxv spoilers #cw blood #noctis lucis caelum #prompto argentum #gladiolus amicitia #ignis scientia #angst #older!chocobros #final fantasy xv #my writing #cw death #tw blood

145 notes · View notes

firethatgrewsolow · 7 years ago

Text

Swiss Time - Chapter One

**Hey guys - here’s the next tale. It’s going to be a long one … slow and steady. I hope you like it. :-) Another thank you to @ladygrange for getting me past a roadblock and providing the perfect title!! What would I do without you? <3**

March 1, 1970

Montreux, Switzerland

She was nearly asleep, seduced by the steady hum of wheels on tracks racing to meet their schedule. On time. Always on time. Trains never failed to make her feel that way. Comfortable and drowsy. Her aunt’s voice filled the compartment.

“So, what do you think?”

Natalie’s eyes blinked open, taking in a blur of alpine white through the sheet of glass in front of her.

“Well?”

The word had garnered a bit of an edge. She can tell I’ve been daydreaming. “I’m not sure, Aunt Sue.”

“What do you mean, you’re not sure. This is costing us a lot of money.”

Nat’s gaze flickered back to the whirling landscape. Us? She means Christian. There was no way she was going to say it out loud, though; that would only serve to pique Susan’s anger. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I just need a little time to process everything.” There was a skeptical hum in the back of her aunt’s throat as her mouth twisted, but she appeared to give up, at least for the moment, reclining into the leather bench seat.

Truth be told, Natalie didn’t need a little time to process everything. It was all perfectly clear. She’d been sent off. Admittedly, there were worse places than a boarding school outside of Montreux, but the fact was, they’d given up on her. At the ripe old age of fifteen. Almost fifteen. She couldn’t really blame them. They weren’t prepared to be parents. And she wasn’t prepared to be a kid. It was an old joke in the family that she’d been born at the age of thirty, and she was beginning to believe they were right. She made things difficult, and that wouldn’t do. You’re lucky, and you know it. Embrace the change. Hell, you might even like it. No longer content with the silence, her aunt began to shift in her seat, tapping a magazine against her leg as she reached for her cigarettes.

“Christian’s got some guests coming tomorrow.”

Guests. Natalie watched a ribbon of smoke trail through the air. She’d been staying with Susan in a suite he’d procured for them in the hotel next to the casino. It had only been a little over a week, but it was enough to catch on. Guests almost always meant musicians. Or people attached to them. Christian had made quite a name for himself with the jazz festival he’d begun a few years before. It had grown like wildfire, and he deserved the success. He was a smart, kind man, endlessly fascinating to chat with and completely in love with her aunt. For a brief moment, Natalie found herself wondering how many of the guests she’d slept with. Maybe none. Hopefully none. Christian deserved better than that.

“Well, aren’t you going to ask who it is, Nat?”

Her tone was excited, expectant. It’s a band. And she must know them. Natalie stayed silent a beat longer and was rewarded with an impatient scowl. I wasn’t born at thirty. I was born at fifty. Snickering to herself, she gave in. “Who is it, Sue? Wait, let me guess. The Stones?” Her aunt shook her head as the corner of her mouth curled up. “Pink Floyd?”

“Keep going.”

She was grinning like the Cheshire Cat, and Natalie held up her hands in defeat. “I really don’t know … just tell me.”

“Well, the singer’s about the most gorgeous man on the planet.”

She still has it, Nat mused, taking in Susan’s glowing smile. The years had been kind to her. She still looked twenty years old. Her mother had glossed over the wild tales about her much younger sister’s dalliances with certain music men, but when Susan got a buzz, she’d always regale her with the full details. Somehow, Natalie never felt shocked and was pretty sure that annoyed her aunt, as the stories inevitably grew more and more salacious. The woman was a legend among the groupie circuit, although she hated the term “groupie,” much preferring the term “friend.” Oh, she was a friend alright, a friend with benefits. When she’d met Christian, sheer happenstance on one of his visits to New York, she’d given it all up, delighted to be whisked away to Lake Geneva to hobnob with entertainment stars and other high profile people. At the clearing of her throat, Natalie realized she was daydreaming again.

“So, aren’t you excited? They’re about to be the biggest band in the world!”

“I’m sorry, who did you say?”

“Good lord, Nat, get out of your head. It’s Led Zeppelin, for heaven’s sake.”

Natalie knew of them, even listened to a few of their songs, courtesy of her best guy friend in the neighborhood. Old neighborhood, she reminded herself. “I’ve heard them.”

“They’re good, aren’t they?”

Nat nodded. They were pretty good. But a little weird, too. Kind of mysterious. What had Will said that night? They were into some heavy, dark stuff, dangerous, even. He’d been pretty stoned, though. She put it out of her mind as the train began to slow. Our stop.

“Tres agreable!” Bonzo bellowed, supremely amused by his prowess with the French language.

Or lack, thereof, Robert decided as he shook his head, exchanging a look with Jimmy. It was the only phrase the drummer knew, and he seemed compelled and certainly content to repeat it over and over. “Right, Bonz, we get it, tres agreable.” The singer couldn’t suppress his chuckle as his friend roared with laughter, calling out for another drink.

Montreux. It was their first visit to the Alpine city, and Robert had to admit he’d been looking forward to it. A week’s vacation skiing, sledding and perhaps some other activities sounded like the perfect respite before it was back to the States. After a quick stop in Germany, anyway. Ahmet had set up a meeting with the band and Christian Rohner, the renowned European promoter and founder of the famous jazz festival the city hosted. It was only in its fourth year, but it was already blowing up. As a lovely blonde entered the dining car, he drained his glass. Yeah, Montreux will do very nicely.

“Let’s go, lads. Grab your things. This is it.”

At Peter’s directive, Robert snatched up his bag, grimacing at the blanket of icy air that enveloped him as he stepped off the train. Shivering, he tightened his coat around his shoulders. At least they were on time. You could always count on the Swiss for that. “Bloody hell, it’s cold, man. I thought it was supposed to be warmer here.”

“Yeah, Cole, where’s the bloody car, mate?” Bonzo grumbled, the heat from his breath forming puffy clouds of steam. “I’m freezin’ me fuckin’ …”

“Quit your whining and start walkin’!” G boomed, following Richard’s lead as they filed across the platform. “Hotel’s right next door.”

Robert dutifully squelched his complaint, stopping to light a cigarette. While unseasonably cool, it was pretty, and after all, he’d certainly been in worse conditions. With a backward glance at the train as it pulled away, he strode toward the station’s entrance.

“Watch where you’re going!“

Small hands pressed against his chest, pushing him back, and he spun around, an apology on his lips. “Christ, I’m sorry, I …” He trailed off as he took in the young girl he’d nearly trampled. She was a slight thing with long, dark hair, and big, dark eyes that were studying him intently. And disapprovingly, he determined, doing his best to quell his grin. Even with a frown, she was cute, nearly pretty, but in a quiet, understated way. Like a child. Bloody hell, she probably is. Her eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second, and he was sure he’d met her before. Or someone like her. She speaks English … probably American. He opened his mouth to begin where he’d left off, but she darted away, wrangling open the heavy glass doors and scurrying into the station. He stood mute, watching her coast nimbly through the crowd. She was calling out to someone, but it was lost in the throng.

“Robert, come on!”

Jimmy’s admonishment cut through the din, and the singer nodded, jogging to catch up with the rest of them. He scanned the cavernous room for the girl one last time, but she was gone.

Grateful for the cozy warmth of the suite, Natalie slipped off her coat, hanging it neatly in the closet by the front door. She shook her head, sending icy droplets across her shoulders. Vowing to wear a hat next time, she padded to the window, mesmerized by the view. The snow was thick and heavy, an unusual occurrence for the town, according to Christian. She watched it take possession of the network of sidewalks around the hotel while she peeled off her boots. The whole scene seemed enchanted, from the pristine swaths of white nestling into the ornate architecture of the buildings next door to the steely blue-green of now quiet Lake Geneva. It was mystical, like nothing at home, and it dawned on her that she wasn’t sad anymore. In fact, she felt kind of happy. An alien emotion to be sure, but there it was. Her smile was short-lived as she caught a glimpse of herself in the tall gilded mirror next to the fireplace. God, I’m a mess. Suddenly, she longed for nothing more than a cup of hot tea and a long bath. She was about to announce her intentions when the phone began to ring.

“I’ll get it,” Susan called out from the bowels of her bedroom.

Natalie dropped onto the sofa, working the thin cotton socks from her frozen feet as she recalled the day. Christian had offered to teach her how to ski, but duty had called in the form of a meeting with the headmaster of what would be her new school. Maybe tomorrow. She stretched her legs, wriggling her toes in hopes of feeling them again as her thoughts wandered back to the man at the train station. Very tall, long hair … strange looking guy but kind of familiar in a weird way. More soft spoken than I expected. He’d sounded English, but who knew. Everyone around her seemed to speak at least three languages. She made a mental note to work on her French.

“Well, it looks like you’re my dinner date.”

There goes my long bath. Natalie stifled her sigh. “What happened to Christian? Was that him on the phone?”

Susan nodded, perusing the array of wine in the fridge at the bar. “Yes, says he has some last minute business to attend to. That it can’t wait.” She peeked her head over the top of the door. “He told me to take you out for your birthday, and that he’ll try to meet us later.”

“But it’s not for a few weeks.”

She shrugged as she made her selection. “Why not start celebrating early? Have you ever had Champagne?”

Not waiting for an answer, Susan peeled the foil from the cork, twisting the wire cage that surrounded it. Nat jumped at the mighty pop, much to her aunt’s delight. She plucked two stemmed flutes from the overhead rack and laid them on the coffee table. Natalie watched transfixed as the shimmering liquid filled the crystal, nearly trickling over. She had an expert hand, though, pouring just enough, then a bit more, until the bubbles were gently popping into the air above the rim.

“I take it that’s a no?” Susan asked, her lips coiling mischievously.

“Yes, I mean, no, I mean, yes, you’re right. I’ve never had it.” Natalie had never had anything to drink, save for a very hot, very disgusting beer, once again, courtesy of her old friend Will. Susan held up her flute, motioning for Nat to do the same, and she followed suit, clinking hers against her aunt’s a bit too loudly.

“Careful, darling, these are expensive.”

“Sorry,” Natalie muttered, bringing the glass to her lips. The fizz of the bubbles against her mouth sort of tickled.

“Well, cheers! Bottoms up, doll,” Susan chirped, downing her champagne in one fell swoop.

Again, Natalie followed suit, erupting into a coughing fit as the bubbles turned traitor, burning all the way down her throat. She finally caught her breath as her aunt’s laugh waned.

“Let’s try it one more time, shall we?” Susan poured another round, this time sipping genteelly. Nat did the same, feeling her head begin to spin. It was pleasant, though, warm and fuzzy. “Do you like it?” Sue asked, giving her a knowing smile.

“Yeah, I do,” Natalie whispered with a snicker. At what, she had no idea.

“You’ve got a little buzz.” Susan’s smile morphed into a grin. “Come on, let’s get ready.”

Nat attempted to stand but wobbled instead. “Where are we going again?”

“To dinner, silly,“ Sue chided, pulling her up with a flourish. “Have you ever thought about wearing makeup?”

Natalie struggled to keep up as they made their way down the hall. “Not really.”

Susan turned, giving her a wink. “You will tonight. Let’s have some fun.”

#Led Zeppelin fanfic #Robert Plant fanfic #Led Zeppelin fan fiction #Robert Plant fan fiction #Led Zeppelin fanfiction #Robert Plant fanfiction

47 notes · View notes

neen-writes · 7 years ago

Text

Iron Legends: Reforged -- Chapter 11

Series: Fairy Tail

Characters: Gajeel, Levy, plus appearances from Natsu and Lucy.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Sci-fi

Summary: The old lab had always been fuel for a good story, something you would half-heartedly joke about going to sometime. Some did, and when they came back they never talked about it again. The legends circulated, telling of ghosts, monsters, and anything else someone would be likely to conjure up about an abandoned building. But even with all the stories meant to keep everyone away, there are still those for whom the intrigue is too tempting.

Note: Reordering! I feel much better having the interlude on chapter 10. I fleshed this one out a little more too, but it’s still just a kind of intermission, so not a long chapter.

Read the Reforged chapters on FF.net here, Ao3 here, and read the entire original story here!! AND find this fic’s soundtrack here!

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8 Ch. 9 Ch.10

“Have you completely lost it?!”

“Can it, Natsu! Can’t you see how she’s feeling?” Lucy scolded the pink-haired boy sitting on the ottoman from her spot on the sofa next to the blunette. Lucy had hauled the sobbing, shaking girl over the the couch earlier, trying to make out anything she said. But she only repeated unintelligible words over and over, sometimes sounding like she had been saying a name in between sobs. It took her almost an hour to calm her breathing enough to speak. Afraid of losing her resolve again, Levy had spilled everything at once at her best friend. She detailed every visit from the day after the “attack,” how she had asked him to stay with her, and what she knew about what was done to him. She kept some specifics to herself, not having the strength to admit how she felt to her friend.

Lucy tried to interrupt her several times, shocked more and more by each detail. Levy had to assure and halfway shout over and over that no, he wasn’t going to hurt me. He wouldn’t hurt me. He’s terrified, no listen to me! Don’t look at the counter, he wasn’t going to hurt me!

Lucy had called Natsu immediately after to come over, because this wasn’t something she could do alone. It was something they were all involved in now, and Levy didn’t have it in her to stop her. What did it matter now if he knew too?

Natsu puffed his cheeks and bit down on his lip to try and stem the vocal stampede that was threatening to rush forth. Lucy shot him one more warning look, before focusing on Levy. Truthfully, she felt the same as Natsu when she first told her. Had Levy told her normally, at any other time, she might have put her through the ringer for it all.

But she didn’t. She was an absolute mess, and Lucy had no choice but to be gentle with her.

Still, Lucy’s stomach was twisting uncontrollably throughout the entire conversation, and she felt absolutely sick that Levy had kept this from them, and had brought the source of their terror so close by no less. All this time, the day of Halloween, he had been so close. The creature that chased them in the dark and provided her with enough nightmares for days, had been here, in this same house.

“I-I’m so sorry,” Levy finally said into her hands, her voice hoarse. “I never meant for it to be like this. I never meant for it to become such a mess. I-I just… someone needed to do something, no one ever has.” Slowly, she lifted her head to look at them both, and they were struck silent for a moment by the absolute devastation on her face. Lucy especially. There had been one other time that she had seen Levy worse, and her gaze moved quickly to the unused hallway before looking back to her. “He’s not what everyone thinks. What you think. And I know that means nothing to you two, because all you saw was what happened that night. I understand how you feel, but he’s not that.” Her already red eyes started to water a little again, and Lucy resumed rubbing soothing circles on her back. “He’s more than that. He’s like us, he used to live here, he was normal once.”

“Then why didn’t you tell us?” Natsu finally said, trying to keep his tone as non-judgmental as possible. “We’re your friends, Levy.” The hint of hurt, offense on his tone stoked her shame.

Levy bit her lip guiltily. “Can you blame me?” she practically squeaked. “Especially with your dad being who he is?”

Natsu, reactive as he was, opened his mouth to say something else but Lucy lifted her hand quickly to give him pause. Natsu cocked his head at her in silent question, but after a moment, he conceded. He liked to think his father was separate from this, but he would have been a terrifying person to have discover her secret.

After all, that was why the three of them agreed to keep it quiet in the first place, because of how bizarre it all was and how much trouble they could have gotten into. Lucy could imagine the weight Levy, with all her kindness, would have felt trying to keep the man safe from both the world and them.

“I know I lied to you, I was just trying to do the right thing.” Levy swallowed hard and hung her head in her hands again, “But it got so complicated, so…” she trailed off and Lucy looked to her suddenly, leaving Natsu in the dark. He tilted his head, watching the thoughts fly across Lucy’s face before she settled on some kind of realization. Lucy’s eyes went wide, and she glanced to Natsu who could only mouth the word ‘what?’ to her. The blonde shook her head quickly, silencing him. Because he of course didn’t get it, but Levy wouldn’t have to say another word for Lucy to understand. “I accused him of something terrible, and I put him in danger. Who knows what’s going to happen to him now,” her voice cracked again and the tears fell once more. “I screwed up. He was so…” she coughed out a whimper, “I really, really screwed up.”

“Hey!” Natsu finally called to her, breaking her out of her thoughts. He was done being silenced by the blonde. “Didn’t you hear what I said?” he called her attention back up from her hands. “We’re your friends.” The words came out slow, deliberate, “I’m miffed that you hid this from us, and I’m not gonna let you forget it. For, at least a few months. But you didn’t ‘betray’ us.”

Levy’s eyes widened a little as he flashed her a toothy smile, and she looked to Lucy for affirmation. Her best friend put on a warm smile as well, and nodded.

“Levy… this is not easy. But we trust you. I know you. You can find the good in anyone. And if you saw something in this Gajeel person, then something is there.” Lucy had waited anxiously all through high school for Levy to find someone. You know, like any best friend does. There had been drive-by crushes and interests here and there, but the blunette was a particular type, and it wasn’t easy for someone to catch and hold her romantic attention. Despite that, she cared deeply, for just about everyone. It was inevitable that she would find someone on which to pour all her heart, and that when she did, it would be with great immoderation. It all made sense now.

The blunette watched Natsu nod in agreement with a kind smirk, and she leaned over into Lucy as she put her hand over her eyes. “You guys…” she choked, the hot tears spilling forward again. “Thank you.”

Lucy hummed in acknowledgement, “Of course, Levy.” She smiled again, gently. “Now, how can we help?”

Levy was beyond moved by the offer, and now couldn’t help feeling terribly for thinking her own friends couldn’t or wouldn’t understand. Or be willing to stand by her. Having that kind of support took a great deal of the weight off her back and lit a spark of hope in her that allowed her to turn her thoughts back to her dragon, and the mustached man–Jose–that sent him into oblivion. Her chest tightened as the image of Gajeel’s face surfaced clearly, and even more so when thinking of the threat that had driven him away. The threat that knew her face and her name. He won’t come for me. And I can’t tell them he knows, it could put them in danger too. Knowing his name is good enough for now.

What Gajeel needed was some kind of protection, but how was she going to do that? What could someone like her possibly do for him when what he’s wrapped up in is far bigger than any of them could even comprehend?

None of that changed the fact that he needed her help. Hell if she knew how she was going to do it, but none of that mattered. Levy looked up with hope and determination in her puffy eyes, smiling gratefully to her friends. “I need to find him. I need…” She paused, “I need to do more research.”

There was no sleep to be had for Levy that night, unlike the slumbering blonde next to her. Her thoughts raced, and she couldn’t get him out of her head. Their final moments played over and over on a loop, and every time she closed her eyes, he was all she saw. Asking her why. Why did I say that. Why then.

There was no guarantee that he would even want to see her when she went back, let alone even be there in the first place. With how distressed he had been, she would have been surprised if he was still at the lab. But she would never forgive herself if she gave up, and didn’t at least try to find him there. If anything, she might find something there that would help her track him now.

The faint light outside provided some relief for her, as it signaled the end of hours of pulling herself apart under the guise of sleep. At the crack of dawn, she slipped out of bed and wrote Lucy and Natsu–who was currently passed out in the living room–a hasty note.

Went to the lab. I need to go alone, in case he is there. I made a promise, please understand. I will be back by noon. Thank you so much.

–Levy

With a knot in her stomach, she left it on the pillow next to Lucy, and quietly slipped into heavy layers and her warmest boots before sneaking out in the golden morning light.

It took the small woman much longer to arrive at the frosted fence with the heavy layer of snow coating the woods, but the snowfall had let up overnight and the sky was clear of clouds. It did nothing to curb the chill, but it helped her on her journey. Even if just a little. It took everything she had to not lose her resolve, but she admittedly lost her composure more than once after stumbling on a snow-covered root. In her desperation, she half expected, and wholly hoped, for him to appear from the wood to lift her up, reprimand her, and call her shrimp before taking them back.

But soon enough, she found herself, and her silence, standing in front of the destroyed hole in the fence. She took several moments to even out her breathing, the fog passing in front of her very flushed face. Levy slowly moved her gaze over the grounds, taking in the looming two-story building, the empty grounds, and the path of rubble and disturbed snow leading to what looked like a destroyed gate in the back she hadn’t noticed before.

Despite the dread that seeped into her, she headed for the gaping entrance, and she saw the extent of recent disturbance. The snow outside the entrance was violently torn up, all the way down to the dirt underneath. Debris from inside was now outside and littered the snow. Slowly, she stepped inside and found the lobby was in a greater state of ruin than it had been before. Which was saying something.

Desks were smashed, chairs flung across the room. The air was heavy with freshly stirred must. What did he… In her mind’s eye she saw her gentle dragon in a rage, destroying anything he could inconsequentially take his anger out upon. It was a violence she did not want to imagine, and the fact that she had been the catalyst for it was nigh unbearable. She felt like she was going to be sick.

Levy stood rooted, with a hand to her chest, in the middle of the atrium. “Gajeel?” she projected, unsure, her voice echoing within the walls.

Levy waited, knowing her voice could not possibly travel through the entirety of the impossibly large structure. But she knew him and what he could do. If he was here, he would hear her, no matter how weak her voice was.

Nothing answered her but dead silence and the sound of a brushing breeze outside. Not even a sign of the small black cat. Levy felt a lump rise in her throat as her prediction started to assemble in front of her. There was silence. “Gajeel!” Levy called out again, walking forward now through the fresh rubble.

Still nothing.

Something on the floor caught her eye, however, and she slowly stepped over to see what it was. As she kneeled down and took the item up in her hands, her heart fell. Levy’s eyes burned as the realization became more clear and her fears became tangible. In her hand was the red and white scarf she had given him, frayed and marred with dirt. He’s not here. Levy brought the scarf to her face, trying to smother the tears that had started to spill over. Gajeel… There’s so much I didn’t say, please. But she couldn’t fall apart, not now. She had things to do.

Desperately, she swept her gaze around the room again, refreshing herself on every detail. Enough dust still lingered in the air, creating shafts of light from the clouded windows that extended upwards towards the high roof of the lab’s small atrium. To her right, she could see the dark doorway that led into the underbelly of the facility and swallowed hard. Slowly, she looked to the left, noting again the large, damaged staircase that led upwards. The one she had wondered about so many times before. Levy had talked herself out of it because it didn’t look safe before, but now that just seemed so silly.

Levy clenched her fist around the scarf and all but ran to the stairwell and haphazardly scaled them, skipping steps when needed and clinging to the railing with the hope it continued to hold. Everything else around her faded away in light of her new target, and she stepped through the doorless entrance.

As she stepped onto the second floor, she found herself with three different halls to choose from: two short ones to the left and right that curved somewhere to hallways beyond, and one long one straight ahead. Levy took a second to stand there and take in the scene in front of her, lit dimly by skylights and a few windows.

Doors were completely ripped off their hinges and tossed aside like trash, walls had massive holes smashed into them. The hall directly ahead of her, however, looked far worse than any of the rest. More than halfway down that hall, which she felt must have led all the way to the other side of the building, a massive hole was ripped open in the floor, and straight up through the ceiling. Every surface around that destruction was charred black, and daylight cascaded in a shaft through the opening. There was a whole other sector of the lab she hadn’t been to, because she didn’t remember seeing anywhere with that level of damage.

She had a feeling that whatever rampage that had been the ultimate downfall of Jupiter Technology, ended on this floor. Stepping over rubble and debris, she went left first down the short hallway and found nothing but supply rooms and janitorial closets. She furrowed her brow, frustrated, and doubled back to the main hall again. She hadn’t wanted to head that way just for the level of damage, but it was evident she had to.

As she moved forward, she noticed that many of the doorways had plaques next to them with names, or looked like they might have at one point. Offices? she thought, multiple with names she didn’t recognize.

The further she got, the worse the damage was as well, and in it’s own dark way it was promising for what she was ultimately looking for. Finally, one nameplate stopped her dead in her tracks. It was smashed in half and hung loosely from the damaged wall. The first name with its title, however, was more than clear to her.

Dr. Jose--

Her eyes narrowed and looked beyond the gaping hole in the wall to the destroyed office; the door, charred black, was melted shut. The desk was broken clear in half, and there were deep slashes in the walls. At least three semi-recognizable bookshelves and a filing cabinet were in the office, but only one still stood; the other had been tipped over. Levy ducked through the hole in the wall, and maneuvered back to the standing shelf. She brushed away the thick layer of dust–partly age, partly from the destruction–from the books that were still on the shelf. Most were textbooks, and not particularly what she was looking for.

Peaking under the partially toppled shelves, she saw more textbooks and frowned. This isn’t what I need, she thought, before finally lifting her eyes to the file cabinet, dented and leaning sideways against the wall. Several of the drawers were already extended, likely as a result of the trauma the unit had suffered. They were empty. The very bottom drawer, however, was the one that interested her most: it was the only one with a keyhole. But it wasn't just left open, it looked like something, or someone, had literally ripped it open. Like a crudely opened package. Gajeel…

Levy thought a moment, before wrapping the dirty headband around her right hand and grabbing what was left of the rusted handle. She pulled hard, and after several tries yanked the drawer open with a protesting screech. The blunette was more than pleased to find that inside was a thick stack of black-covered notebooks much like the one Gajeel had brought her. Behind the stack, was a substantial amount of paperwork, divided up by year and month, and one divider labeled “Participants: X Class.” Behind it were several folders, each with the X-number designations she had seen before. Right there, amongst others, was his: X777. His was much thinner than the others, until she remembered what he had told her. The other files still had the subject’s original information: who they were before Jupiter. Gajeel had destroyed his. She figured he went looking for answers on who he was and sought that part of his file only.

Her hands moved first to the books, grabbing the one at the front of the drawer with the hope that it was the most recent. The book crackled in protest as she pulled it open to one of the last pages. The handwriting was noticeably messier than the one she had read before.

August 29th, 2012

Finally. The lacrima channels appear to at last be fully functional in all subjects and have fully integrated. Infusions are no longer necessary, all that has been dosed to our subjects are now part of their systems. They are cycling on their own and powering their own implants. Full conversion was maintained by multiple subjects at the last trial, with best control exhibited by X777. Each surviving subject has been a treat, and the roulette of discovering how the lacrima implants affect each has been a scientist’s dream. I cannot fully express the pride I feel at the success of this study, and this data is going to make us a fortune.

Nearly all subjects are responding well to the revised conditioning process and outbursts have been reduced to less than 5 a week between all subjects. X777 continues to be the most stubborn, but this issue is insignificant compared to our progress, and he faces well against X772; their clashes are stunning. X761 has become no less defiant, however through our trials we have learned how to muzzle him, as it were. Better, we have learned how to harness his abilities for our own uses. Operating costs have fallen significantly!

Digressing, field trials have yielded valuable data in a nearly uncontrolled environment, however our issue continues to be stopping each round in time. We lost one subject last week in the pit. Our subjects exhibit exactly what we need from them, for their purpose, but stopping them proves a challenge. This is not, however, enough to set us back. On the battlefield, they need only be pointed in a direction. In those situations they do not need to be stopped before killing another.

I am making the final preparations to submit my work; I am so close to the summit, I can taste it. The applications of the lacrima channels and infusions are limitless. The potential to weaponize is astronomical, and the negotiations to sell each subject are already rolling forward. With great compensation. Funds should double with the publication, allowing us to take in even more subjects and continue making our weapons.

This only goes to show that all the ethical red tape only limits research. Once the paper is published they will all see, and the ethical board will understand the mistakes they have made.

I will make them understand.

Levy rocked back to sit flat on the floor, and rested her back against the demolished desk. Her free hand cleared the blue locks from her face and she stared straight ahead for a moment. Her thoughts spun, trying to absorb what she just read. There’s that word again, ‘lacrima.’ Is that how they made them able to do what they do? she thought, having finally confirmed the root of all of it, even if she suspected. The purpose of the experiments. They were weapons. Tools.

Quickly, she set the book aside and delved back into the drawer, flipping through the folder tabs a little more carefully. And sure enough: “Lacrima Specifications.”

She pulled it out, and settled it onto her lap. It didn’t look like the full document they planned to publish, which wasn’t surprising. Something like that was far more likely to be digital, or somehow taken during the collapse. Likely all of this information has several digital copies somewhere, they wouldn’t have just left this otherwise. This just seemed to be a reference document, a copy from a text that might have been the scaffolding for the project. Her eyes scanned over the paper, brows furrowing while she tried to focus.

‘Medium that can be implanted directly into subjects or compounded into intravenous injections.’

‘Previously indicated to amplify latent abilities.’

‘Have been shown to allow manipulation of certain elements, at random.’

‘Some users can convert states to match designated elements.’

‘Side effects include relying on, even craving designated elements for sustenance. Difficulty controlling anger in high stress events.’

‘Provide the user with enhanced senses and strength.’

‘Significant fatalities amongst incompatible users.’

‘Eventual integration of compound and implants that allow subjects to sustain changes, on a genetic level, long-term without further intervention.’

It all made sense. Everything that she had read made sense with this piece. And she finally understood why Gajeel was so afraid of this person. Not only had Jose been the source of his torment, but there easily could have been a whole other world of torture in store for him if the lab hadn’t been shut down. And this man, after three years, had returned. Presumably to reclaim what he thought belonged to him. Which meant she couldn’t stay here or any longer or expect Gajeel to come back here. The lab wasn’t safe and she needed to leave it behind.

It also meant she needed to take as much of this with her as possible. If she had any hope of helping him, of getting help for him, she needed to keep as much of this as she could.

With new resolve, Levy grabbed his folder, the lacrima folder, and as many of the journals she could fit into the bag she bought with her.

Levy had to steel herself for the onslaught when she returned home with literature in hand. She mumbled sorry so many times it stopped feeling like a word. More than once both exclaimed that her note was the only reason they hadn’t called the police. She had tried to protest, to beg them to listen because they had so little time to waste, they couldn’t waste it fighting. So she gave up and just took off her backpack, pulled out one folder, and plopped it onto her kitchen table. “Look at it.” was all she said, seriously enough that they stopped talking immediately and slowly approached to look inside.

“So he’s superhuman,” Natsu said finally, his wonder betraying him.

“Essentially, yes. He’s been implanted, against his will, with this lacrima stuff, and it’s given him these abilities. His element is iron, who knows what kind of other elements the other subjects have. That explains his abilities and the fact that he eats it.” Lucy and Natsu both shot her open-mouthed looks, and she was reminded of the details she hadn’t told them yet. “He eats iron, and can live off it,” she added quickly, trying to move past what she already knew. “I think with all of this there might be a way to do something. Because this is all so illegal. Not to mention inhumane,” Levy explained, holding up her stack of proof, “If Jose is still out there we can nail him with this.”

Natsu took a deep breath, staring at the file for several moments longer. “My dad can help,” he offered, and Lucy looked to him.

“Do you really want to tell Igneel? We did something illegal too, remember?” Lucy cautioned.

“I know. But this is way bigger than that, bigger than what we did. We can all see that, right?” he looked to them both, and could tell by Levy’s face that he didn’t need to convince her. ”He’s the police chief, and he can do something about this. He can help, maybe what we have found already will be enough to distract him from what we did, and save me from a very long lecture and moving back home...” Natsu trailed off with a grimace. Living on his own was infinitely more enjoyable, but he was no stranger to mischief and he was already on thin ice with his father thanks to several house parties. No boy his age wanted to move back in with a parent, no matter how much he liked the old man.

The blunette mulled over it for a moment, before shaking her head. “We can’t take this to him until we have proof that Jose is even here,” Levy finally said. “All it’ll do is put Gajeel in danger. We need the person responsible to be the focus for all this, not Gajeel.” She didn’t want to wait, but she had to be realistic. She had no idea where to find Gajeel, where he would have gone, and she didn’t have any idea who Jose was other than that encounter in her store, and the fact Gajeel thought she smelled like him. He may have known her name, but that was it. She had convinced herself that she would be fine in the meantime. After all, Gajeel was no longer here, what reason had he to find her now?

“Right,” Natsu agreed.

Lucy nodded in agreement, as well before looking back to Levy. “I take it he wasn’t there,” she remarked, gently. Levy gave her a quiet, dejected shake of her head. “Did you find any clues on how you’re going to find him?”

Levy’s gaze dropped back to the floor with another shake of her head. “No.” The word left a bitter taste in her mouth. It was not something she was thrilled to admit, and it only left her feeling just as poorly as before. “All we have is this. And Jose. As much as it hurts me, he’s our best shot,” Levy added, looking back to her friends. “Thank you, for staying with me. And I’m sorry for everything…but I just need time to figure this out, you guys don’t have to stay. I’m sure you have things to do.” She mustered up the best smile she could manage, and she knew that Lucy would see right through her.

But Lucy also knew when to give her the space she needed. And with a nudge to Natsu, she nodded her head towards the door. He looked reluctant, and looked to Levy for affirmation.

“Really, I promise. You guys were here all night. I’m fine. I just have a lot of reading to do,” Levy insisted, as Lucy took him by the arm and started to pull him out.

“If you pull something else like this I’m not gonna let you off easy, Levy. Call me if you come up with anything,” Lucy called over her shoulder on the way out the door. “We’ll be back to check in later.” She beckoned to Natsu, who looked uninclined to leave, but a glare from Lucy was all he needed to convince him.

The moment the door closed and clicked, Levy’s smile fell. She exhaled the tension from her body and quietly padded down the hall to her room. She dropped her bag onto the floor by her bed with a heavy thud and stared quietly at her window. Those torturous tears pricked at her eyes again and she shook, trying to stifle it. Where have you gone, Gajeel?

Realizing now how painfully dry her throat was, she returned to her kitchen, desperate for water and a distraction. She was mid gulp when she heard a scratching at the double doors. Adrenaline surged through her, flipping her stomach as she whirled to face the doors. But outside, she did not see the towering man. Just, open air.

Honey-colored eyes trailed down the length of the doors, before settling on a black creature at the bottom, a dark gaze fixed on her expectantly. It took her a moment to register, until she saw the scar on the left side of his face. “Lily?” she gasped, rushing to the doors to throw them open. The cat casually strolled inside, leaping up to the kitchen table as Levy closed the door behind him. He wrapped his tail around himself, and stared quietly at Levy.

She turned to stare back at the cat, a sudden dread rising in her. If he was here, that could only mean, “He left you behind too.” Levy stated, realizing she was talking to a cat. He only answered her with a rough mrow.

The fact that he was here, that this little creature had found his way to her home instead of waiting for his large companion spoke everything she had been afraid to admit. If he had left the lab, then this was the very last nail in her fear’s coffin. This was it. He had no reason at all to be there anymore.

Levy moved forward slowly, reaching out to lift him carefully by the armpits. To her relief, the cat did not protest as she held him in her arms, clutching him to her chest and pressing a damp cheek into his sleek, black fur.

Here, in her little-big, quiet house, there was no way for her to keep running from it. Especially with this final, devastating development. You have to say it. You have to say it so it’s real. “He’s gone,” she said aloud, her voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know if he’s coming back.” Levy shut her eyes, forcing the tears down her face. “And I, god, I think I love him.”

#gajevy #fairy tail #ftfanfics #fanfiction #gajeel redfox #levy mcgarden

21 notes · View notes

stealikeanartist · 8 years ago

Text

@eroshiyda Yet another pleasantly surprising request! One case of fishy love, coming right up.

Undyne wouldn’t have even noticed her huddled up in the corner of the waiting room if she didn’t fidget so freakin much. Once Undyne was aware of the lizard monster’s presence, she adjusted herself in her seat in order to keep the pale yellow lump in her line of sight. Since losing her eye a few weeks back, Undyne had been trying to break herself into the habit of always keeping her opponents on the side of her good eye.

That included the monster on the opppsite side of the line of chairs against the wall. She just sat there, folded in on herself like she was trying to force herself to get smaller. At first Undyne thought the girl was aimlessly twiddling her thumbs, but upon closer inspection, she saw that she was tapping away at a phone that was partially hidden beneath her hunched figure.

Undyne tapped one of her sharpened nails against the arm of her chair. Where the hell was Asgore? He was supposed to meet her five minutes ago.Once Undyne noticed the fiddling and the tapping of claws on keys, she couldn’t un-notice it. It burrowed into her ears and made her skin itch. She scratched absently at her arms, then her ears, and then stopped herself just in time from scratching the puffy lump of flesh where her eye used to be. But goddamn it itched.

She tried to think of literally anything else. Swords. Punching. Punching something with swords. But the tapping and the fidgeting had already crawled under her skin. Sometimes she would meditate under the freezing, endless pounding of waterfalls, but compared to this torture, that was a pleasant shower.

Come on Undyne, she thought. You’re supposed to be invincible. Unbreakable. Badass.

A pleasant walk through Asgore’s garden.

Tap tap tap.

Making crappy spaghetti with Papyrus.

Click. Click click.

A perfectly executed stab right into-

Tap tap. Click-

“Nnnnnnnnaaaaaaaaagh!” The growl grew from somewhere deep in Undyne’s chest and emerged as a snarl. The lizard monster jumped in her chair with a small shriek, finally revealing her bespectacled face.

Undyne shoved her chair back as she stood; the force of it left skid marks on the polished tile. She crossed the distance of the room in two strides. The yellow monster gripped onto the sides of her chair for dear life, shrinking her head back until only her glasses could be seen peeking out from the collar of her lab coat.

“Could you-” Undyne started. She clenched and unclenched her hand, digging small cuts into her palms trying to find the words. “Could you just-” Her gills opened and closed at double time with rage-fueled adrenaline, and her facial fins flared wide.

But seeing the pathetic lump of lab coat and scales in front of her knocked her pride down enough pegs to make her lose her thought. She huffed out of her gills, her facial fins drooping.

Trying to regain her cool, she asked “So... what are you?” She gestured to the lab coat. “Some kind of scientist?”

The lizard’s head slowly emerged from the fold of her coat like some sort of yellow tortoise. “P-pardon?” Before Undyne could respond, the monster had already started stammering and fidgeting with the buttons on her coat.

“O-oh, because of m-my c-coat.” She laughed nervously, sweat pouring from her forehead. Undyne didn’t even know that reptiles could sweat. And what was with that stutter?

“Um, n-no. I m-mean yes.” She adjusted her glasses and took a deep breath. “Actually I-I was j-just hired not t-too long ago to be the r-royal scientist.”

Undyne crossed her arms. “I see.” She didn’t even know such a position existed. She guessed even nerds needed a leader. “So you’re here to see Asgore, too, I assume?”

“W-well yes. B-but don’t worry, m-my appointment isn’t f-for another-” she whipped out her phone and checked the time. “-th-thirty-four minutes.”

Undyne had barely opened her mouth when the other monster started up again. “I-I know I’m early, b-but I didn’t w-want to risk being l-late to my f-first appointment. You know, y-you can get s-stuck in traffic, o-or the f-ferry could break down, or you c-could get hopelessly lost, or have th-the wrong time, or g-get mugged by theives-”

She wiped at the sweat on her face with her sleeve.

“-and then y-you get fired f-from a job that you just g-got, and you g-go into debt, and you have t-to live at the dump b-because (let’s f-face it) that’s wh-where you belong anyways and…” She trailed off, her eyes still spiraling into some twisted hypothetical that Undyne couldn’t possibly imagine.

Undyne glanced to the side, waiting for the questionably insane girl to come out of her awkward trance. When she didn’t, Undyne launched her hand out.

“Well, I’m Undyne,” she said. “Current captain of the Royal Guard.” Probably soon to be ex-captain. That’s probably what this whole meeting was about. She couldn’t blame Asgore: who in their right mind would want a one-eyed soldier?

The scientist stared at Undyne’s hand for a moment like it was some sort of exotic slug. She awkwardly took it, and as Undyne expected, her hand was dripping with sweat.

“Oh, I kn-know who you are,” she said. “You’re k-kind of a legend wh-where I’m from.”

Yeah. A legendary failure, maybe.

“I’m A-Alphys. O-or Doctor Alphys n-now, I suppose.”

Her gaze drifted to a spot on Undyne’s face. Undyne broke the handshake, but the doctor’s eyes lingered on the spot.

“What are you gawking at?” Undyne asked quietly.

“H-huh?”

But Undyne knew exactly what the doctor was looking at. It was the same thing everyone stared at. It was the first thing they saw now. The only thing they saw.

“What?” Undyne leaned closer, and the doctor flinched. “You never saw someone with one eye before?” Undyne knew it was pretty gruesome to look at, and that’s exactly why she shoved it closer to the doctor’s face.

“Oh g-god, I’m so s-sorry.” With her yellow skin, the doctor’s blush came out as a bright vermilion. “I m-mean it’s just s-so fascinating, from an a-anatomical viewpoint, I m-mean. I d-didn’t mean to stare, it’s j-just a b-bad habit of m-mine to want to c-collect data and m-make observations-”

“Would you just come out with it already?!”

The doctor froze. Undyne was sick of all of the dancing around the matter. Nobody ever said what they were really thinking. They were all cowards. They could never say it to her face.

They could never say that she was broken.

They didn’t have to.

Undyne waited for more stuttering. For the slap of an insult. Perhaps the sweet satisfaction of someone exploding on her for once.

“It’s just so cool.”

What?

Undyne looked down into the doctor’s face. Behind the foggy lenses, her eyes were...sparkling? How was that even possible?

For one frozen moment, the doctor had stopped fidgeting. That last sentence had been free of stuttering, too. She was being…honest.

Then the moment ended. “Ahahaha o-oh my god that’s s-super insensitive of m-me.” She took her glasses off, cleaned them, put them back on, and repeated. “I m-mean I’m t-totally sorry it m-must be r-really hard and extremely p-painful I m-mean…”

Undyne only stared.

“I’m s-sorry,” the doctor squeaked.

Undyne picked absently at her scales. Her face suddenly felt super hot. “Nah…” she said. “It doesn’t really hurt.”

Actually, it was, in fact, extremely painful. Even a gust of wind across the scarred tissue would send her nerves screaming. Living in a place like Waterfall was a nightmare: with winds and rain and icy gusts coming from the West and bursts of intense humidity coming from the East. She would parade around all day, battling with the urge to cover the sensitive lump with her hand. The moment she got home she would rush to a mirror and meticulously inspect for sand or dust that she was sure was there.

“Not much, anyways.” Undyne’s scales were suddenly very fascinating, and she couldn’t stop picking at them. But when she spoke, it was directed at the doctor.

“I was thinking about getting an eyepatch.”

One beat went by, and the doctor said nothing. Two beats. Undyne dared to peek up at her reaction.

The doctor’s mouth was agape, revealing a (sort of cute?) overbite. If her eyes were sparkling before, they were filled with stars now.

“That’s so badass.”

Undyne laughed. It was a nervous laugh at first, and then it was a laugh that she couldn’t stop. It was as if doubt and tension was stored as hot air and could only be released through laughs.

When it was finally all out, Undyne collapsed into the chair next to the doctor. It was her turn to fidget. “So uh, I feel like a total dope,” she said. Actually she felt like a complete and utter jackass. “But, uh, what’s your name again?”

The doctor smiled for the first time. “Alphys.”

Undyne gazed up at the ceiling. “So...you think the patch would be a good idea?”

The doc-Alphys nodded so vigorously that her glasses came loose. She readjusted them.

“Undyne.” Undyne looked up to find Asgore standing in the doorway. She bolted upright. The big guy sure could be quiet when he wanted to.

“I deeply apologize for being so late,” he said. He caught sight of Alphys. “Oh, good to see you again, doctor. I hope the two of you were able to get acquainted.” He swept Undyne into the doorway and started to shoo her down the hall. “I am afraid I will be a little late for your appointment, as well.”

Undyne couldn’t make out the words to Alphys’ stuttered response, but she realized that, after awhile, the stutter kind of grew on you.

Asgore and Undyne walked down the hall towards the throne room. “Did you get the chance to meet our new royal scientist?” Asgore asked.

“Mhmm,” Undyne mumbled. She touched her cheek under the missing eye. What kind of eyepatch would Alphys think is the coolest?

She felt Asgore nudge her in the ribs, and even such a gentle movement threw her off balance. “What?” she asked

Asgore just wiggled his eyebrows down at her.

“Asgore, oh my god.”

“I did not say anything.”

Undyne suddenly remembered where she was. “Asgore, are you firing me?”

“Firing you? Heavens no.” He placed a gentle, furry arm around her shoulders. “It’s time for our monthly tea, remember?”

Oh. Duh.

Badass, Alphys had said.

Yeah, Undyne thought. I am badass.

#love my gay reptilian fish couple #everyone assumes that undyne saved alphys #but perhaps alphys saved undyne #i imagine living with a disability like that is very difficult #my favorite lesbos #undertale #my writing #undertale fanfifction #undertale oneshot #alphys #undyne #asgore

13 notes · View notes

tevotbegotnaught · 5 years ago

Text

Dubov's Last Jump-off pt 2

During the second rehearsal, Dubov made a pitch. He sent Mo Bedbug, still ambulatory, out to meet the manager of the club. Mo returned with an unshaven young white dude in a skinny black suit. Sitting next to Dubov, the guy crossed his legs, knit his brow and listened amiably. Dubov giddily introduced our Italian medley, emphasizing a tie-in with the restaurant's cuisine and making labored gangster allusions. It was incomprehensible he needed to sell this guy on a twenty-minute cover band set. Dubov, an early investor in the club and its parent business, for years treated the room as his semi-private, gentleman's lounge. After a fifteen minute pitch, skinny suit shook everyone’s hand and left. Our brain trust never mentioned him again. The gig was on.

Start time begat a long text chain from Mo, who never included Dubov in band communications. Mo planned on 11, a typical agent strategy to cover client indecision and get the talent in early. The musicians fought back. Dubov, who planned to wait for a packed house, asked for 12:30. The club needed every available inch for patrons and countered with 12. Mo just wanted to get back to Bushwick and relax with a cannabis nitecap. The negotiations whipsawed me, so I deleted everything, waited, then asked Mo to set a time, any time. Eventually, he confirmed midnight.

The club was two stories above the restaurant, a ridiculously over-priced Italian joint. First, I passed a velvet rope, manned by two pro-wrestler types: a white guy with a clipboard and black guy with folded arms. Then a metal staircase wrapped in bird crap-splattered canvas. Violent winds compressed that sheath, its seams popping and wheezing. Designed by Escher, the whole construction ended in a tiny doorway. Inside: goldleaf, massive chandeliers, potted palms and huge paintings of Ché and Vieja Havana. Cubanismo for cool kids. In lieu of a bandstand, we’d play just inside the entrance. The club’s heating system was set to neutralize the constant temperature flux of a swinging door and accommodate scantily clad faux club-kids. It felt like standing in front of a burning building with wind whipping off a glacier just behind.

In a stairwell above the club, the singers were doing dance warmups and gabbing. At the top of the stairs, a narrow hall and off it, an open room. A typical multi-use restaurant space, it combined security camera bank, liquor/wine storage, and business office. While I changed, inches away a stone-faced manager clicked a mouse and slipped Hennessy. Straightening my tie as I walked down the steps, the girls stopped their preparations to hug me and wish me luck. I’d been onstage with legends and countless gifted, dynamic professionals, but they clearly knew my good fortune had run out.

Downstairs, a half-dozen tall beautiful young women provided table service. Their uniform: short tuxedo jacket, ruffled white shirt and hot pants. Our waitress towered six feet without her skyscraper heels. She told us we could order one free alcoholic drink only after our set, then brought a tray crammed with liter bottles of sparkling water. The drink menu priced them at 20 bucks each. Before we played a note, Dubov handed her a three-hundred dollar tip, not necessarily for professional competence.

Pianist schlepped a small keyboard from home, rigged it on a shaky rack, then piled music on our stands; 13 pages for the horns, double that for him. He leaned over and said gravely, "play the parts, I know they’re correct, but no matter what, follow the singers"

Stage left, in the corner of a long, plush couch, Margherita sat on Dubov’s lap. He fingered his phone while she giggled and tapped her heels on the tile floor. A drum kit squeezed into the corner. Above the drums, on a chalk board, Mo had written “THE NEW YORKERS", the name Dubov chose for his new act. When the ladies introduced themselves, their repartee descended to self-parody as neither was from anywhere near New York.

Off icy slopes, night lifers entered in twos and threes. The clientele wasn’t so hip; tourist families with matching college hoodies, brittle couples on awkward dates, girls’ night cliques chugging twenty-five dollar Cosmos. As the room filled up, our show, 15 minutes of music fluffed with patter and mugging, attracted scant attention. Singers lost the form in "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy". The concept of instrumental solos never made sense to them, anyway. Pianist gave a sweeping gesture which they made a two bar rest. Then we returned to "Uptown Funk", their theme, and took our bows. The singers were sweaty and happy, replaying their foibles and firsts. Mlle Unitard made the trip to watch her student perform. Mo was pleased, mainly because Dubov was satisfied. When I said goodnight, Mo asked if I sent my invoice to Dubov’s people. Did I cc him, as well? They were doing PayPal to him. Then, he would PayPal us.

After the first night, a tabloid picked up our story. Photos of Dubov, a sexy young girl in his lap, rock-skipped across the world. A major US daily quoted one ‘Margherita Slice’ about Dubov: "I feel sad. Really sad. So many lies out there about a good guy. He just really helps people". The article also mentioned Karolina as "former girlfriend". The other musicians sent me links to more stories.

Night two was even colder, freight train winds slammed the car as I drove across the Brooklyn Bridge. When I gave the palooka at the door my name, he ran a bare fingertip down his clipboard list.

"Nope. Don’t see it"

I told him Dubov’s name, he didn’t speak nor look up, unlatching the rope just enough for me to get through. Upstairs, on a couch, the girls sipped wine with Mo. He wore Chucks and an ankle-length black denim coat hand-painted with spray-can graffiti.” The New Yorkers” rocked stilettos and sparkly gowns, showing plenty of cleavage. No Dubov. Mo took me aside. Despite excellent English, Mo’s voice hummed and burbled unintelligibly, a weedhead’s inheritance.

Last night's show was great, he said. Pianist would update me on set changes for tonite . Management asked Dubov to stay away. They didn’t want more attention. He shook his head. “About payment…PayPal fees are outrageous!” He was scandalized.” I think Harry's people don’t have to pay them. So, can I just send you a check? I’ll need your address. Email me everything, ok?”

I fired off the email from my phone and waited near the door, dressed, instrument packed. A young woman in business attire approached me and asked what i was doing. I told her. She was a manager, concerned about our start time. I referred her to Mo. “I already talked to him" she said, annoyed. With supreme elegance and efficiency, she turned quarter-profile away and lit a cigarette, an indoor action so provocative (and potentially expensive), my mouth gaped. The cigarette burned at arm length while she listed all the problems created by our little three-night clambake. Her woes made sense, though I couldn’t offer concrete help.

While the singers primped, Mo introduced me to Julie, Dubov's assistant, recipient of my payroll emails. A solid, small-town gal in a dark pantsuit, she seemed pained when we discussed her duties. Possibly, she saw her job disappearing soon beneath a judge’s gavel.

We went on shortly after. The Friday night room packed quickly. Frat boys took pictures using the singers as foils: Karolina, busy singing her heart out; Margherita, a good sport with plenty of downtime. An undertow of high-pitched shrieks, bro-signifying and cackling swamped the music. Absent a PA with a dedicated set of monitors, we had to deal with it.

Our set worked a bit better and a bit worse than the first night. After, the ladies told us we sounded great and thanked us. We said the same to them. Mo was sleepily effusive and told us: I gave Dubov a good report; there's food waiting for you; one more night to go!

Trumpet player and I took the indoor stairs down. A gigantic man stood watch at the first floor. He heard us coming and stepped aside. At the window, our meals sat ready, packed for a Himalayan trek. We grabbed them and headed through the restaurant. Even at one am, diners lingered over remnants of their meals. On the sidewalk, street signs bombilated in the wind and trash scuttled under parked cars. By the velvet rope and its snaking supplicants, an idling black SUV. In the passenger seat, Dubov hunched over a phone screen, its blue nimbus around his puffy brow and eyes, mouth lost in shadow.

0 notes