INTRODUCING: Alpha Gamma Corpses - Lucifer & Ty Weller
As some of you might know, for the past year or so, I've been working on writing my original novel. It's an afterlife based romantic comedy focusing on the self appointed best frat house in the realm: Alpha, Gamma, Corpses.
I'd like to introduce you to the main characters of Lucifer's Pledge; the first of the Alpha Gamma Corpses novels, which I'm currently in the process of editing.
So, please meet: Lucifer & Ty Weller
---
Lucifer
Lucifer is the king of the afterlife, known as the realm, and is perfectly fine. Discounting, of course, his self-enforced solitude in a colourless castle tucked in the middle of nowhere, his only active role being to mediate the arguments of the worst of humanity, and the fact he's so disconnected from reality that he's losing his sense of taste.
As stated, he's perfectly fine.
But never let it be said he's not one to take action. Per an agreement with his living-world alternative Eden, Lucifer has been going on nightly walks around the realm, and getting involved in anything interesting he stumbles across. It's a total waste of time and does nothing for him, but he does it anyway, which is further testimony to how perfectly fine he truly is.
But when he happens across a frat house that seems like a disaster waiting to happen, something occurs to him. He's not fine. Not fine at all. How could he have been fine if one night at the frat, tended to by it's ridiculous so-called king as they played the most stupid of games together, made him feel more alive in those few short hours than he's ever felt before?
Worse still, how fine could he be when a horrible truth comes to light. He wants to go back.
He wants to pledge, even if he has to hide who he is to do it.
---
Ty Weller
Ty wasn't just the life of the party; he was the creator of the party. He built his frat from the ground up. He came up with every stupid tradition, weathered every bad day where the stupidity of his afterlife seemed to oppress him, and collected every lost guy who needed something to laugh about and somewhere to call a home away from home.
So what if he didn't talk about his family? So what if he'd been hiding his phone? So what if memories of his death still crippled him? So what if he sometimes wondered what the hell he was doing with his eternal time?
Ty was the perfect bro, and that's all he needed to be. A hunk wrapped in workout spandex, never lacking a joke or a stupid stunt to pull, and always there to shoot the shit with anyone who wanted a laugh or just someone to talk to.
What else did he need to be, other than that?
But he also wasn't stupid, and wasn't one to pass up an opportunity when it was presented to him. So when some weirdo dressed like a fancy pirate came to the frat house and let himself be dragged into a stupid game of consequences, Ty had only one course of action.
Get Luc into the frat and finally find the match to his freak, one pledge night at a time.
---
I hope that gives you a taste of who these two men are, and what their weird, wonderful romance will be.
The story will follow them falling for each other, becoming the weirdest of friends, and engaging in a courtship ritual made up of games with the stupidest of forfeits, food fights, an endless assault of ridiculous costumes, camping trips, and occasional moments where they finally let down their barriers and pretences, just for the moment.
I'd love to hear what you all think of this idea. I hope you all like the wonderful art of the characters I've commissioned, and the front cover - which includes my silly little pun pseudonym - below.
And with that, we are getting things started! As a brief reminder for those new to the event -- AU Roulette is a casual fic-writing challenge encouraging fanfic authors to play around with different types of alternate universe stories, which will be randomly assigned to each participant regardless of the fandom they sign up with.
Writers will be able to sign up from May 10th-31st with a fandom of their choice. At the start of June, each participant will be assigned three AUs from a masterlist using a random number generator. Each author will then have the choice of completing the challenge one, two, or all three of the AUs. Any fic exceeding a 500-word minimum will be considered a completion, so long as it employs the AU premise. Fics can then be posted at any point during the month of June.
As a reminder: The fandom you signed up with is used to filter AU assignments, in order to minimize re-rolls! (For example, someone signing up with "The Lord of the Rings" will not be assigned a High Fantasy AU). Please only sign-up with one fandom.
The sign-up link can be found here. Please feel free to spread it around and get the word out about this year's event!
Summary: When magic flares and runes are written, Freed is found in his home, wrapped up and trapped in his own magic. He’s partially transformed, his soul is rotting, and his eyes are dead. He’s left behind a puzzle of traps and a summons for the exiled Laxus Dreyar. A summons that, by all interpretations, would make Laxus his executioner.
Laxus refuses to kill the man he cares for more than anyone else. But with an untrusting guild, a mystery that seemed hell bent on not being solved, and the threat of slaughter ever looming, can Laxus do anything to save the man he loves before he must kill him with his own hands?
Notes: And so we reach the end, and I think this might be the best thing I’ve written for this ship. It was a break from my usual lighter more comedic writing, and I really liked it. And to think this was almost a 5k at most one shot. I hope you’ve all really enjoyed it, and thanks again for the nice things you’ve said, it helped so much.
Link: Ao3, First Chapter, Previous Chapter
Epilogue
Three Months Later
When Freed woke, it was to the feeling of a clever mouth wrapped around his cock. He groaned a satisfied groan, hand going to Laxus' head before his eyes even opened. He took Laxus by the hair, scratching at his scalp as he guided the man down, to take every inch of his cock. Laxus went willingly, hands digging into Freed's thighs as he humped the bed.
More mornings than not, this was how Freed awoke these days, and every time was better than the last.
Since becoming a couple, Laxus had made true on his promises that he would live authentically, honestly, and entirely as himself. Part of himself that he seemed particularly enthusiastic in living as was a man who gifted an immense amount of pleasure to his partner. He sucked, fucked, and tugged as if Freed's orgasms were his own, and Freed relished the toe-curling opportunities to indulge his man every chance he was given. Not that he had any hope of denying his dragon of anything at all.
Their relationship, ass it existed in the past three months, had been perfect, and a sorely needed bright spot for them both. It extended far beyond the bedroom, too. Freed was a classic romantic, and had taken his blushing dragon to the finest restaurants he knew of. They had laughed, drank, and danced under the star's night after night. It had been wonderful.
Not everything had been quite so good.
Out of his runes and out of the jail, Freed had been given a first row seat in how little the town he loved trusted him. While most of Fairy Tail seemed to support him – and the loudest speakers would defend him shamelessly – he still got dirty looks from members of the faceless masses.
Then there were the check-ins with the rune knights. While he had insisted on them for both his safety, and the towns, they showed little respect for him. Barked orders, shoving him around, and once they struck him for talking back. But his magic was checked for safety over and over, and slowly he was allowed to bring himself back to full power, minus having a demon form to rely on, of course.
The good outweighed the bad, as far as Freed was concerned. Especially when the good meant having a horny, sleepy dragon slayer waking you up day after day with his throat squeezing around your cock.
"Fuck," Freed panted, raising his hips as he looked down.
Laxus was beautifully naked, firm ass flexing and pulsing as he rhythmically bucked his hips against the sheets. It was the same motion he had used the night before while he was fucking Freed to sleep. The two of them hadn't had all that much sex before getting together, instead favouring the convenience of their own hands, and both had agreed they would be making up for lost time together.
So yes, the good definitely outweighed the bad.
"Stop," Freed panted, pulling on Laxus' hair slightly. Laxus dutifully slid up Freed's cock, though only barely removed himself from it, looking lust drunk and content.
"You okay?" He asked, throat raw.
"Up here," Freed panted, and Laxus grinned.
Moving fluidly, Laxus crawled up the bed over Freed, pressing quick kisses onto Freed's firm stomach and rising chest. Freed took the moment to sit up against the headboard, and Laxus straddled him with his muscled thighs, their cocks batting against each other as Laxus grabbed Freed by the waist and held him tight for balance. Freed's hand roamed over Laxus' amazingly cut abs, pinching at his nipples before resting at their favourite position, behind Laxus' neck.
"That was a nice way to wake up," Freed praised, leaning in to peck a kiss on Laxus' lips.
"Like you're not used to it already," Laxus grinned. "Bet you'd find it nicer if I just let you sleep in."
"I can assure you I wouldn't," Freed promised with a possessive scratch to Laxus' neck.
"Why'd you stop me then?" Laxus asked and rolled his hips to tease.
"I wanted to give you something," Freed took a moment to enjoy Laxus' slight furrow of the brow – he'd also gotten better at not hiding his emotions over the last three months – before reaching into the side table and pulling out a small, leather-bound box.
He handed it to Laxus, not feeling the nerves he had expected to feel. Laxus looked at it quizzically, then saw a quick glance to Freed for permission before opening it, and his eyes went a little wide and his cock jerked when he realised what it was. He pulled it out from the box, and held it up to his face, which flushed and broke into a happy little grin he didn't tamper down.
It was a thick, black, leather collar, with a buckle in the back and a leash ring on the front. Embroidered into the leather in purple threat were words of an ancient language, as well as a pattern of lightning and runes so dark barely anyone could see it.
Laxus swallowed, looking emotional and manic. "What does it say?"
"My Monstrous Beast, Now Tamed."
For a moment, Laxus looked struck, before he leant forward and pulled Freed into a long and heated kiss. Strong bodies ran against each other, and Freed took Laxus by the hair to dominate the kiss. When they pulled apart, Laxus' eyes fell back onto the collar, and he looked almost enchanted to see it.
"Put it on me," Laxus requested. "Please."
"Of course, Dragon."
Freed took the collar from Laxus' hands and raised it to wrap around Laxus neck. Just before it could touch his skin, Laxus pulled back slightly, and looked at Freed with honesty in his eyes. "Once it goes on, I'm not takin' it off. Ever. Need you to understand that."
For three months, Laxus had been affirming that he thought Freed was the only man for him, and that their relationship would be the only one worth pursuing. It had been long enough for Freed to know those words to be true, and so he knew just how honest Laxus was being when he said that.
"I know. Nor would I allow you to," Freed whispered.
"Good," Laxus nodded slightly, then raised his chin to give Freed access to his neck.
Freed wrapped the collar around his dragon just tight enough for him to feel it, but not so tight it would hurt or irritate. He'd had it made especially for Laxus, and it latched up with a swirl of Freed's magic. Laxus swallowed, and the collar shifted with the movement. He ran his hands over it with reverence, before looking back down to Freed.
"How's it look?" He asked, voice filled with emotion.
"Wonderful," Freed assured him, then turned his head towards the wall mounted mirror. "But I think you should be the one to make the final decision."
For moments, Laxus looked at himself in the mirror. He was naked despite the collar, straddling Freed while hard, flushed and heaving. "Would it be stupid if I said that I feel like I can actually see myself in the mirror for the first time?"
"Not at all," Freed promised, and pressed a kiss between the crease of Laxus' pecs. "It suits you. But should you ever need a break from it or wish not to be seen wearing it but not want to take it off, you may do this."
Freed reached for the leash ring and pressed in a small stud behind it. The collar turned into a swirl of runes that spiralled down Laxus' arm, before settling around his wrist and forming into a leather bracelet that bore the same inscription, but was infinitely more acceptable to so called polite society. Laxus looked down at it for a moment, then smiled. He spun it around his wrist to get a better look at it, then saw another small stud to be pushed in.
"This turn it back into a collar?" He asked and instantly pressed it when Freed nodded. Freed felt his cock jerk at the neediness that was shown in his speed. Laxus let the collar rest before landing his forehead against Freed's. "You're too good for me."
"I can assure you it's entirely the other way around," Freed insisted, and dragged Laxus into a slow kiss before he could object.
And how could Laxus object. Laxus had been the one to fight for Freed and save his life. Laxus had been the one to give him the space to be himself, no matter how unflattering that could often be. Laxus had been the one to show Freed so much trust, that he allowed Freed to see and enjoy the parts of Laxus he had never been confident about, or loved in himself. How could anyone be better than Laxus?
When they pulled back, Freed confirmed his thoughts with all the more certainty. The sunlight was coming in through the hotel room's curtains, and Laxus was bathed in it. His tan skin shone and his body rippled, looking love drunk and revitalised, with nothing but a collar to cover him. He was beauty, and he was Freed's.
"Check-out is in three hours," Laxus whispered, rolling his hips again. "Not much time for us to have some real fun, but how about I finish what I started?"
"How about you ride me until you can't walk straight and say to hell with the schedule."
Laxus grinned. "You're perfect," he praised, then his grin turned cheeky. "And you're so much hornier than I ever thought you'd be. Gotta say, I love it."
With a burst of laughter that had their foreheads knocking together, they pulled each other into a slow kiss, ready to make an already perfect morning all the more better in each others' arms.
—
"And you'll send a message at least once a day," Ever instructed for what felt like the millionth time in the last five minutes. Laxus was glad she was aiming this at Freed and not him, because he would be rolling his eyes. "And we get at least one weekly phone call, yes. No going silent on us."
"I can assure you, you'll be bored of us before the first week is done," Freed assured her.
Laxus stood back a little, watching as Ever and Bickslow gave their goodbyes to Freed, taking the chance to indulge in a cigar. They were stood outside of Fairy Tail, with the spring sun beating down on them and only partially cooled by the breeze.
It was hard not to compare this time to the last, but Laxus didn't mind looking back on that moment now. The last time he had left Fairy Tail, it had been under a cloud of shame and anger and confusion. He had known he had made a mistake, known he was going to be alone, and known he had hurt people likely beyond forgiveness. He had consigned himself to solitude, let himself drown in the inevitability of his loneliness. He'd abused himself with mistreatment. He had set himself up for failure and allowed himself to wallow in the destruction of his life.
Not this time. This time he was returning to exile, not under the shadow of his greatest mistake, but with the fruit borne of his greatest triumph. He wasn't leaving with the assumption he had nobody missing him, but with the surety that there were people waiting for it to be over. And he wasn't alone. Not this time.
"And every two weeks you let us know where you are, and we meet up for dinner," Ever again repeated.
"Yes. If we're in the middle of nowhere, we'll agree on a nearby town I can teleport us to and we'll meet there," Freed promised, taking her hands and kissing them on the knuckles. "We're leaving town, but we are not leaving you."
"I know," Ever said, voice wavering. "And I know why you have to, but I'm gonna miss you."
"I'll miss you too," he assured her, then smiled a little. "But only as much as two people can miss each other when they're constantly messaging and calling."
"I'll hold you to that. I told you what happens if you don't."
"You'll turn me to stone and chisel off my penis; you were very explicit about it."
"Maybe you should get rid of Laxy's instead," Bickslow suggested. "I think that'd piss Freed off more."
Laxus gave Bix an unimpressed look, but didn't interrupt their goodbyes. Freed and Ever pulled into a large hug. They whispered to each other, and Laxus could see that Ever was crying in the crook of his neck, so he looked away. Someone was watching – a nobody from the guild that didn't like Freed – and Laxus sent a jolt of lightning towards him. Not enough to hurt, but enough to warn him to mind his own damn business.
He gave Laxus a glare and daggers made of grass formed in his hands, but he thought better of it and stomped his way into the guild. Only when Laxus heard soft footsteps next to him did he realise why. Gramps leant against the wall next to Laxus.
"You understand why I can't just let you back in?" Gramps asked, and Laxus took a drag out of his smoke before answering.
"I know," he said. "It ain't even been six months since the festival, and I put a lot of people in danger. It wouldn't be right."
"People haven't been happy you're here, and they're making it known. If it were up to me-"
"If it were up to you, you'd make it so I could come back and you'd try and weather all the crap you're dealing with because of it. But some of the people complaining would have good points, and you'd be constantly wondering if you did the right thing or not," Laxus looked down at him. "It's the right call. Honestly, even if you did wanna reinstate me, I don't think I'd take it. Don't think I'm right for this yet."
Makarov nodded, looking somehow both horribly sad and utterly proud at the admission. "And Freed knows-"
"That he's welcome back anytime, and that you'll fight his corner. He knows," Laxus assured Makarov, who looked pensive. "We've talked about it a lot, and we both wanna end back here eventually. But I'm the guy who nearly killed the town, and he's the guy who made 'em scared for weeks because nobody knew what was gonna happen. We're not welcome here, and that's not gonna change unless we leave and give people the space to live without bein' scared of us."
"It's not right, for either of you, but at least with Freed I can say with honesty he was acting in everyone's best interests. I could change their minds, and he wouldn't have to leave."
"But that's what he wants to do, and so that's what's gonna happen."
"I suppose," Makarov relented, looking away as not to let Laxus see his face. "I'll leave you to your goodbyes."
"Alright," Laxus nodded. He watched Makarov walk away from him. The man Laxus once was might have left it like that, and might have gotten a little thrill knowing his grandfather was hurting and knowing he could have made it better but didn't. But Laxus wasn't that man anymore. "He'd still be in that house without you, y'know. Or he'd be dead. The only way he ended up alive was because we got to speak to him, and that wouldn't have happened if you didn't make it happen."
Makarov froze, and didn't turn around as he spoke. "You're just saying-"
"You did right by him, in the end. That's what you gotta remember."
With a small nod, Makarov sniffed. "I love you, kid."
"Love you too, old man."
With that said, Makarov took a long, wavering breath in and walked into the guild. Laxus turned back to see Freed pulling out of a hug with Levy, who must have come out to wish him well with Lucy and Mirajane. He was speaking to them lowly, and Laxus turned his head as not to listen in, and was met with Bix approaching him.
"You're gonna look after him, right?" Bix asked, glancing to Freed. "I know he doesn't need it, but you will anyway, won't ya?"
"Course I will," Laxus gave him a nod, which Bix mirrored.
"Good," He said firmly, then his mask slipped on and a grin broke out. "And if you two ever need a third, you better be coming to me."
"God dammit," Laxus muttered.
"I'm real verse, so I can do anything. Happy to get spit roasted, or give you the old double suck. I'm pretty hung and my ass is the opposite of flat so anyway you want me I'm up- OW!" Bickslow cupped his crotch, which had just been struck with lightning. "So uncalled for! Hope you both die on the road!"
"I'll miss you too, Jackass," Laxus grinned, and was pulled into a hug which he was happy to reciprocate.
Once Levy, Lucy and Mira were back in the guildhall, and it was just the four of them, they seemed to be at a loss. Ever acted first, pulling out her coms Lacrima and opening a camera app, saying that they needed to take a picture together before Laxus and Freed left.
Bickslow took centre stage in the picture, wrapping his long arms around the three of them somehow while grinning wide and happy at the camera, his babies bobbing into the perfect position. Ever tucked herself under both Bix and Freed's arms, holding out the Lacrima and smiling a picture ready smile at it. Freed and Laxus were pushed together side by side. Laxus wrapped an arm around Freed's waist, and Freed tucked a possessive finger into Laxus' belt loop to pull him closer.
While he knew he should be looking at the camera, Laxus couldn't help but look at Freed. He was so full of life, in his own peculiar, semi-formal, patronisingly arrogant way. He was in Laxus' old coat, which he'd modified to be more his style and, Laxus was pretty sure, in a way that showed off his figure better. He was sharp, and pointy, and so far beyond handsome that no words could explain it.
But, more than anything, he was Laxus', and Laxus was his.
As Ever called for them to smile, Laxus pressed the button on the leather bracelet, turning it back into a collar just as the picture was taken. This day felt like the start of something new, and if it were going to be photographed, he would do it as himself. Who he was, at least in part, was a man who would wear the collar gifted to him by the man he loved.
They pulled apart, and Laxus found himself grinning as he walked back to the two rucksacks he and Freed would be living out of. He knew exactly what was about to happen, and while he may have grown to be a better man, he would enjoy being a dick now.
"What the hell is that!" Ever screeched, pointing at her Lacrima screen. Bix and Freed looked down at it. Freed smirked when he saw what she was looking at, and Bickslow's mouth fell open.
"What is it?" Laxus asked, feigning confusion.
"You're wearing a-" Evergreen cut herself off when she looked up and saw the collar still around Laxus' neck. "Okay, so we're going to have to talk about this."
"Don't think we've got time," Laxus said in a falsely apologetic tone. "We've gotta get going."
She gaped at him, then turned to Freed. "You- I mean you actually- you don't think for a second that you're walking away without-"
"I think he's right," Freed agreed with Laxus, and Laxus grinned to himself. "We'd be terribly bad at being in exile if we just stayed in town for a chat."
"And we both hate being bad at things," Laxus nodded. "Guess we gotta go."
"Are you kidding me!"
"Honestly, I was kinda joking about being your third, but if you two are into this kinda stuff then I definitely want in," Bickslow grinned, sizing them up playfully. "Didn't know either of you had a bit of kink in ya. I'm proud."
"That's weird, man," Laxus laughed.
"And we certainly won't be welcoming someone else. I'm somewhat possessive," Freed declared, and Laxus felt a shiver roll over him at the admission. The shiver turned into a whole rush of chills when Freed hooked a finger in the leash hole of the collar and dragged Laxus into a kiss by it. Laxus melted into him, kissing for as long as Freed wished, before pulling back when Freed did. "You've been wearing that all day, and I haven't put it to use. It felt like an error that needed correcting."
"Oh absolutely."
Bickslow cackled, and Ever huffed. "You're a dick," she jabbed a finger at Laxus. "And you're a dick," she jabbed one at Freed. "And I hope you both get scurvy."
"Why scurvy?" Freed asked.
"It was the first thing I could think of!" She yelled, and Laxus snorted. "Now, go on, you degenerate assholes."
Laxus caught Freed smiling softly. "We'll see you soon."
"I know," Ever nodded, emotion sneaking into her voice again.
"Love you guys," Bickslow said.
"We love you to," Freed promised, and Laxus nodded in agreement.
And then, they walked away.
They walked and walked.
Out of the town.
Out passed the woods.
Out far beyond where Freed had followed Laxus the first time he was in exile.
They didn't say much, and they didn't need to. They knew they would find where they needed to be, and let the path before them take them there, no matter how long it took.
Only when the sun started to fall, did Laxus feel the need to speak, voice low and honest. "I'm glad you didn't die."
"I'm glad you saved me."
Quietly, they shared a look, then walked off into the sunset together.
Summary: When magic flares and runes are written, Freed is found in his home, wrapped up and trapped in his own magic. He’s partially transformed, his soul is rotting, and his eyes are dead. He’s left behind a puzzle of traps and a summons for the exiled Laxus Dreyar. A summons that, by all interpretations, would make Laxus his executioner.
Laxus refuses to kill the man he cares for more than anyone else. But with an untrusting guild, a mystery that seemed hell bent on not being solved, and the threat of slaughter ever looming, can Laxus do anything to save the man he loves before he must kill him with his own hands?
Notes: Hi all, a whole lot of adult content in this one. That’s pretty much all it is, and these boys deserve it. Hope you enjoy.
Link: Ao3, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter
Chapter Sixteen: Submission
When the door to the hotel room shut, Freed was quick to take stock of it. It was a suite more than a room, but a modest one. The sofa was a two-seater, but could accommodate Freed if the need arose, and there was a small kitchenette and enough space for them not to get underfoot of each other. It offered enough options, which was as good as Freed could ask for.
"Now that we're here," Freed began, watching as Laxus hurriedly removed the sword from his belt, because it was best to get ahead of this. "You've made no promises to me, and I wouldn't hold you to them if you had. So, if you-"
Laxus cut him off by taking Freed's shirt in hand, yanking him forward and pulling Freed against him. With his hips, he pushed their bodies close, and had Freed backed up against the door. Freed felt the full force of a six foot five monster of a man, muscles pushing against muscles as Laxus all but devoured him in a kiss. Freed's eyes drew closed as he kissed Laxus back, relishing the feeling of pressure coming from both the door behind him and his dragon before him.
"I'm gonna say this once, and you're gonna listen," Laxus purred after he pulled apart, leaving barely enough room for either to even breathe. He kept steadying hands on Freed's waist, grounding and firm. "I love you. I'm hot for you. I'm ready for you. I know it took way too goddamn long for me to pull my head outta my ass and stop denying who I am, but I don't regret doin' it now that it's done, and I don't intend to tiptoe into being myself. I'm gay, I'm in love with you, and I wanna get fucked."
"Laxus, wanting and-"
"You think I ain't ever cum thinkin' about you? That I ain't ever dreamed about you takin' me? That I ain't ever shoved a toy up myself wanting it to be you," Laxus smirked a little, and it must have been at Freed's expression. "Just 'cause I usually shut the thoughts down, didn't mean I never acted on them. I can take a dick, Freed, and I wanna take yours."
"What if you-"
"I'm not gonna regret it, or change my mind, or anything," Laxus snapped, then calmed his tone by pecking Freed's lips. "You're it for me Freed, that's just how it is. And I don't think either of us wanna be celibate, right? Now, if you're not up for it, or not ready, then we're not gonna do it. But if all this hesitating is just for me, then I wanna make this clear. Right now, I want you to fuck me," another peck on the lips followed his declaration. "And I want you to do it as yourself."
"Myself?" Freed gasped, breath stuttering and mind whirling to keep up.
"I saw your fantasies on how you want me," Laxus purred, tightening his grip on Freed's hips. "You were rough. A little nasty. In charge. You got any idea how hot it is to find out the guy you're in love with not only feels the same way, but also knows that he owns your ass?" A needy sound snuck out of his throat. "I want that, Freed. Fuck me like you love me. Mean, and brutal, and owning; we both know that's how you like it, and I'm damn sure I like it too."
When Laxus stopped talking, Freed let it wash over him. The open honesty, the lack of innuendo, the needy rasp of his voice. Laxus didn't lie about things. He never did what he didn't want. It was part of why Freed loved him.
He allowed himself to push forward, just could feel Laxus' chest heaving with heavy breaths, and could practically feel how fast his heart was beating. His eyes were wild and a little manic, and there was lust swarming in them. His hands grasped Freed's waist tighter and pulled him close, and the movement shot Freed's eyes open wide as he felt an unmistakable pressure against his lower stomach.
Laxus' cock was hard, thick, and tenting his pants obscenely. Freed only glanced at it for a moment, before looking back at Laxus.
"On your knees," He ordered in a whisper, drinking in the sight of Laxus' eyes brightening and his grin turning feral. "Now."
With neither elegance nor restraint, Laxus dropped to his knees with a heavy thud, looking up at Freed as if he were a god. Freed looked right back, not moving. Laxus belonged on his knees. His powerful body was tense, holding back and heaving with the effort, but he was cowed and controlled. His hands naturally rested on his thighs, his strong chest pushed against the leopard print shirt, and his cock was fighting against the constraints of his leather pants.
But his face was the hottest part. Eye level with Freed's stomach, he was looking up proudly. He didn't waver nor hide, nor seemed to find shame on his knees. His cheeks were flushed with desire, his lips parted, and eyes hungry.
Silently, Freed cupped Laxus' cheek. He ran his thumb over Laxus' lips and whispered, "Open."
Laxus did as he was told, and parted his lips. He retracted his teeth without having to be told, and Freed pushed his thumb in. He pushed down on Laxus' tongue, and Laxus wrapped his lips around it automatically. As Freed pushed his thumb in further, Laxus gave it a slow, needy suck.
"Either you've naturally been born without a gag reflex," Freed said, hoarse and horny. "Or you've been practicing with that toy you mentioned."
"Let me suck your cock and you'll find out."
The cheek of it had Freed's pulse rising, and he slapped Laxus firm but restrained as praise. Laxus breathed out haggard, grinning wider at the rough treatment. "Take it out," Freed ordered. "Now."
Laxus rushed to work on Freed's pants. He fumbled slightly with the button and yanked down the fly, and the friction of the fabric moving against Freed's cock was maddening. Laxus being the cause of it was maddening. The whole damn situation was maddening. Freed was drowning in it, and loved every second.
Practically with reverence, Laxus pulled down the waistband of Freed's boxer briefs. Freed's cock jumped out, long, hard and leaking. Laxus whispered something under his breath, and before Freed could demand Laxus repeat that for him to enjoy, Laxus leant forward and-
"Fuck!" Freed grunted, as Laxus ran his wide tongue from base to tip, slowly and languidly.
Freed fell back against the door, eyed rolling into the back of his head as his cock jerked at the sensation. Laxus had touched his cock. He had Laxus on his knees, licking his cock like he was destined to do it. Freed's hand came to Laxus' hand without conscious thought, holding him in place so that, when he looked down, his long cock was resting against sharp, needy features.
"Did I permit you do do that?"
"No," Laxus rasped unrepentantly.
"Mouth open," Freed ordered again. "Put your practice to work."
The feeling of Laxus wrapping his lips tight around the head of Freed's cock had him seeing stars. He sucked and swallowed, and Freed bucked into it. Laxus gagged, and the intoxicating sound of it had Freed buck in further. Freed groaned again, leaning against the door while pushing his hips forward. Laxus took him inch by inch, taunting and teasing him with sucks, licks and swallows.
Freed was lost to it all, the world blurring and warping as pleasure and need battered his mind. He bucked, writhing against the door, the fur of Laxus' gifted coat tickling at his skin. He could feel the grain, the pull of sweat dampened fabric, of the waistband of his boxers against his balls. Everything was feeling.
Everything was Laxus.
Looking down, he watched as Laxus took the final inch of his dick into his mouth. His cheeks were sucked in, his eyes blown wide, and his throat bobbing with the strain of being so utterly filled. But damn, he looked smug. Freed could hardly have that.
He placed both hands on Laxus' head, tangling his fingers into his hair. Laxus eyes shot up and met Freed's. Freed quirked an eyebrow, and Laxus winked. That was all he needed.
With sudden and vicious ferocity, Freed shoved off the door and thrusted into Laxus' mouth. Again and again. Faster and faster. He was skull fucking him, and unashamedly so. Laxus gagged and choked and drooled, making a damn mess of himself as he did all he could to take the dick.
Affording him no warning, Freed stopped thrusting and instead shoved Laxus' head back and forth. He never let his dick fully leave Laxus' mouth; never showed him the mercy. Laxus' jaw would be aching. His throat would be screaming. His eyes would be tearing. He would be at Freed's mercy and happy to be there.
Looking down, every fantasy was made null by the reality.
Laxus was a mess. Drool dripped down his mouth and onto his clothes. His eyes were closed in blissful contentment. His cock was hard and leaking under his leather pants. In the moment, he was a cock slut of the highest order, and he was Freed's to play with.
But this was Laxus.
Thunder god.
Strongest mage Freed had ever met.
The man who was destined for Freed and had saved his life.
And now he was on his knees, sucking dick like there was no better use for him. A man who was feared and loathed and hated, on his knees because Freed wanted him there.
Fucking him harder, Freed let his head fall back and his eyes went wide. All of it crashed in at once. The feeling of a hot mouth struggling to take his dick. The knowledge that this was no mere man, but Laxus Dreyar. The declaration of both love and attraction. The fact that this was not the only time he would have Laxus. The certainty that this would be just a fraction of the pleasure he would have from now on.
Holding Laxus' hair with tugging cruelty, Freed dragged Laxus so he was forced to deep throat him. He swallowed and gagged around Freed's cock, and Freed gave short, sharp little thrusts as his balls pulled up and his cock exploded.
With a vicious roar, Freed came. He held Laxus where he was, making him take every drop and swallow it down, which only drove Freed to further spurts of cum. He bucked and humped his way through his orgasm, using Laxus' wanton and needy mouth to milk every drop of pleasure he could from his dick, before falling back against the door.
He let his cock – still half hard – fall from Laxus mouth. He watched as cum dripped down from Laxus, who caught his breath with tears running down his face and the widest smile Freed had ever seen.
"Was that-" Freed started, but cut himself off when Laxus launched up, took Freed by the back of the neck, pushed their bodies together again, and gave him yet another blistering kiss, made dirty and wonderful by the taste of his own cum.
"You are doin' that to me," Laxus said, voice hoarse and resplendently fucked. "Every damn day from now on."
Freed was going to agree, when he glanced down and saw Laxus' cock still trapped in his pants, still hard as a rock, and still untouched. "You didn't get yourself off?"
Laxus looked proud in his horny grin. "Didn't get your permission," his grin grew cheeky again. "Sir."
With a movement that was more instinct than reaction, Freed grabbed Laxus by the chin and held it tight. "You'll use a title with me only when I choose, and when I believe I have mastered you," he said firmly, and the desperate sound of arousal Laxus made was a drug Freed was destined to be addicted to. "But good behaviour begets a reward."
"Do I get to pick it?" Laxus grinned, leaning in and stealing another little kiss.
"You already have," Freed whispered. "I think you've more than earned that fucking you wanted," this time, Freed leant forward, and pressed his lips so gently against Laxus' that it nearly didn't connect. He pulled back slightly, and with malice in his voice, whispered again. "Strip."
—
Laxus was shameless in following the order. He all but ripped his shirt off over his head, making sure to flex his stomach and his arms as he threw it to the side. Freed's hungry eyes watched him like a hawk, and Laxus gave a shameless roll of his tense stomach, abs flexing under a sheen of sweat.
He saw Freed's eyes narrow, and grinned at him. "What?" He asked. "I know what I look like. Sir."
The use of the unearned title had Freed storm forward. His hand went straight for Laxus' wonderfully abused throat, and he grabbed tight. Laxus' cock twitched and leaked at the rough treatment as he was pushed backwards. He was quick to walk back, Freed pushing him until his legs hit the side of the bed. He fell onto the neatly made sheets, and Freed crawled on top of him, gaze as hard as his leaking cock.
With Freed on top of him, Laxus knew what it meant to be a man. To be at another's mercy and to love it was all he had ever needed, yet never known. In here, in this moment, Freed was the priority and Laxus was there to serve, and the simple truth was so world shattering that it settled into Laxus' bones.
Freed lowered himself, straddling Laxus and keeping him pinned down. He ran his hands roughly over Laxus' torso, calloused hands kneading and groping hard muscles. Laxus writhed at the treatment, bucking his hips and having Freed push down in retaliation.
"You're a brat," Freed whispered. "Did you know that?"
"I'm whatever you need me to be," Laxus promised.
He pushed up in a perfect sit up, and didn't miss the rush of heat that struck Freed's face when he did. His man liked it when Laxus showed off his strength, huh? Well, Laxus was happy to show that by grabbing Freed's shirt and pulling it apart, sending buttons flying across the bed. He brought Freed into a kiss before he could say anything, bare chest running against bare chest as Laxus rolled his hips, cock rubbing against the leather of his pants.
As they made out, Laxus relished the moment. Freed was here, in his arms, in his bed, in his life. There was nothing stopping them. Nothing to get in their way. Nothing that would tear Freed from him again. Just two men, kissing, fucking, and loving.
With Freed's shirt thrown to the side, Laxus pulled back and looked at him. Freed was powerfully built but slight, like a swimmer. He had taut abs, a wonderful chest, and bulging biceps, but not needlessly so. Freed's body was powerful for practicality, and he looked all the sexier for it. His pale skin was a canvas to be marked, and his hard nipples were the perfect toys to bite and tease and lick. But Freed, while he might not admit it yet, was master between them and Laxus would follow his lead.
Though when Freed moved so he was no longer straddling him, Laxus let out a noise of protest. A noise that died when Freed took Laxus' hands, placed them in the waistband of his pants, and gave Laxus an order with a simple look. One he was happy to follow.
Laxus greedily pulled Freed's pants and boxers down, only removing his grip so Freed could step out of them. Freed stood their, shameless in his nudity and standing over Laxus with a small smirk. He knew how good he looked too, then.
And fuck, he looked good. Long, toned limbs. Firm muscles. A long cock. He was sex personified, and all Laxus'.
Without speaking, Freed undid Laxus belt and pulled it loose, before unbuttoning Laxus' pants. Laxus raised hips so Freed could pull his pants down, leaving him in his tight, precum stained grey briefs. Freed's movements halted fractionally when he saw Laxus' underwear of choice, and he smirked a little wider.
Laxus grinned. "I know what looks good on me."
"You certainly do," Freed agreed. "Though, I suspect you'll look even better without them."
Freed reached for the waistband of the briefs, and slowly pulled them down. The slowness of the movement teased Laxus' cock, dragging it down so that it sprung free, bobbing in the air and leaking. Laxus heard Freed's intake of breath as Laxus was laid bare, stretched out in the bed, hard and naked.
They both took the moment in. Freed's cock was perhaps an inch longer than Laxus', but Laxus had him beat on girth. It wavered and spasmed, needing to be touched and played with. For a moment, he fantasised how wonderful it would feel for Freed to ride him, to take him completely and drain the cum from his nuts, but that would be for another night. His hole twitched in need, and the promise of the burn Freed's long cock would bring drove Laxus to near madness.
Maybe Freed felt the same, because with a voice rougher and more demanding than Laxus had ever heard from him, he said, "turn over."
While Laxus was following the order, Freed manhandled him into the exact position he wanted him. He grabbed Laxus' hair again, and the pain went straight to his cock. Laxus found his head pressed to the mattress at a painful angle, while his knees were raised and his ass was high and vulnerable. He spread his legs slightly, breath stuttering as Freed's hand groped his cheeks.
Giving him no warning, Freed slapped his ass. Laxus groaned, the spank making him thrust as sharp pain shivered over him. Freed did it again, and this time Laxus moaned and pushed his ass out further, inviting more. Freed laughed lowly, and the mingled degradation and praise in the sound had Laxus' eyes rolling back.
This was who he was meant to be. This was him at his best.
The mattress shifted, and Freed was gone. Laxus watched as Freed picked up a tube of lube, and a condom. As he went to slip it on, Laxus spoke, voice hazy and needy. "I'm clean, and you've been goin' through enough med tests to know if you are, right?"
Freed gave him a long look. "I'm clean."
"No protection then," Laxus said. "Wanna feel you for real."
Apparently having learned his lesson in questioning Laxus' wants, Freed tossed the condom back to the nightstand and squirted lube onto his fingers. Laxus was given the practically pornographic sight of Freed slicking up his hard dick with lube, and found himself grinding into the air, still in the position Freed put him in.
The mattress shifted with Freed's weight again as he climbed back on. "You're ready?"
"Yeah. So fuckin' ready."
Freed traced a finger down the crack of Laxus' ass, and Laxus moaned from that alone. The bastard toyed with his hole for a moment, and only when Laxus pushed back with a needy sound did he press a finger against his pucker and push in. Laxus groaned, muscles tensing with delight as Freed pushed in another, than another, stretching him out slowly. He spread his fingers, widening his hole.
With Freed shifting his potion, Laxus took a breath. He'd played with his hole many times, and had a long toy packed at the bottom of his rucksack he'd used to get off many times, but never another man's dick before. Fuck, he wanted it so bad.
"You said you didn't want me to go easy on you," Freed reminded. "Is that still true."
"I wanna be fucked by you, not some fake, gentle version of you."
Freed grinned, dirty and full of promise. "Very well."
With cruel speed, Freed pulled his fingers out and left Laxus' hole empty and desperate for long, nasty moments. Then, faster than Laxus' whirling mind could handle, his cock was breaching Laxus' hole. His head was large and thick – larger than Laxus' dildo – and pushed in with practiced skill.
When Freed fucked, he was fast and brutal with it, pushing in deeper and deeper with Laxus given barely a moment to get used to it. Laxus moaned and grunted as he was filled so completely. There was pain, and it was everything. He wanted it. Needed it. Was meant for it.
"Fuck me," he demanded in a weak, broken voice. "Now."
And fuck, Freed did.
He ploughed into Laxus without mercy nor decency. He was brutal with every long, hard thrust. Taking his cock nearly out before hammering back in. He hit Laxus' prostate every fucking time, and Laxus' vision blurred and whited out with every fuck. He pushed back into Freed, groaning and cursing. His cock bobbed and wavered, harder than it had ever been but not reaching release yet.
Freed's hand found Laxus' head again, pushing him back into the mattress without care for his comfort. Laxus roared out his pleasure, and it spurred Freed on to fuck faster and faster.
Suddenly, Freed's hand released Laxus' waist and reached for his cock, and his thrusting came slower. He rolled his hips in rhythmic gyrations, and stroked Laxus' cock with lube slicked hands at exactly the same time. It was all Laxus could do to push into Freed's body, eyes clenching shut as overwhelming, endless, excruciating pleasure became all he knew.
The rush of orgasm hit him so suddenly he barely could process it before his cock exploded with shots of cum, painting the sheets. He roared out curses, body shaking and wavering with the effort of keeping up.
Wet heat filled his ass as Freed came, biting down onto Laxus' shoulder with claiming ferocity. He bucked into Laxus like a wild beast, his cum squelching with each thrust as he shot deeper and deeper, all the while stroking out every possible moan and gasp that Laxus could ever give.
With shaking breath, Freed whispered that he was going to pull out. The emptiness that followed when he did was foreign and odd, but Laxus' muscles all but gave out. He collapsed fully onto the mattress, turning over enough so he was face up. He grabbed Freed by the back of his neck and pulled him down so Freed was lying on top of him, then reached for the blanket that had been at the foot of the bed. He wrapped it around them both, holding Freed tight in his arms.
Tomorrow would bring a lot. Questions to be answered. Grudges to be brought to life. Tears to be shed. Tomorrow, Freed's freedom was going to be put in a stark and unflattering light, and the next round of bullshit might rear its head. But that was tomorrow's problem and didn't need to be thought about.
Tonight, they were two men in love, in each others' arms, lost in the afterglow. As they would be the next night, and every other night. The promise of that was all Laxus needed.
Summary: When magic flares and runes are written, Freed is found in his home, wrapped up and trapped in his own magic. He’s partially transformed, his soul is rotting, and his eyes are dead. He’s left behind a puzzle of traps and a summons for the exiled Laxus Dreyar. A summons that, by all interpretations, would make Laxus his executioner.
Laxus refuses to kill the man he cares for more than anyone else. But with an untrusting guild, a mystery that seemed hell bent on not being solved, and the threat of slaughter ever looming, can Laxus do anything to save the man he loves before he must kill him with his own hands?
Notes: Hi, nothing to warn you about this time, just loveliness ans lovely people. Hope you enjoy it.
Link: Ao3, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter
Chapter Fifteen: Freedom
In the moment of stillness that accompanied Freed's eyes being open, Laxus looked at him. Without his demon. Without his runes. Without the cell of a jail. Without shackles. Without anything to stand in between them.
God, he looked beautiful. Ruffled and scared and gaunt and unsteady, but beautiful. He blinked slowly – a slower movement than he would normally allow himself – and seemed to be bringing the world around him into focus. His gaze settled on Laxus, and he wore a smile so soft and so unencumbered by pride and stoicism that Laxus felt tears welling in his eyes all over again. Freed reached up, took Laxus by the cheek and wiped the falling tear away.
"Hello," He whispered croakily.
"Hey," Laxus whispered back.
"We're making a habit of greeting each other like that-"
Sudden necessity forced Laxus to move, to cut Freed up by launching into Freed's space, taking him in both hands and kissing him. He felt Freed's gasp pass through his own lips before Freed melted into him. This kiss was different to the others; not tainted by the demon fighting against them, nor by Laxus' anger. This was a kiss of relief, and of protection, and of commitment without words. It was a kiss that promised it wouldn't be the last.
They pulled apart, and Laxus had the unending pleasure of watching Freed's eyes flutter open. His lips were a little kiss swollen and his expression a little blissful, and he kept up that beautiful smile.
"Am I to expect more of that?" Freed asked, resting his forehead against Laxus' own like he already knew the answer.
"Yes," Laxus promised, and drank in the scent of Freed so close to him.
They were only afforded a moment of peace before seemingly everyone pushed forward. Questions were asked over questions, orders were being barked by the knights without being obeyed, and a miasma of well wishes and declaration of thanks to various gods all merged to make a horrid mess of sounds. But Freed seemed unaware of them all, somehow, and kept his eyes on Laxus. His hand was resting on the back of Laxus' neck in a way that could only be deemed as claiming, and Laxus felt the world melt away for just one second more.
Porlyusica managed to silence everyone, demanding the group who had surged on him back off so she could attend to her patient. She claimed that nobody should be within five feet of him, but when Laxus, Bix and Ever looked ready to fight that, she tutted and said they were the obvious exception and 'idiot children' for thinking otherwise.
She went through whatever process she had to check Freed, and Laxus stood by Freed throughout. Freed only removed his hand from Laxus' neck when told, and returned it the moment he was allowed. Soon enough, he was deemed fit as to be expected, and was ordered for daily checkups at her house, which he agreed to.
As soon as she stepped away, the captain of the knights marched up and handed Freed a sealed envelope, which he silently opened, reading the contents.
"I understand," Freed said, and Laxus was about to ask to know what it was, but Bickslow snatched it out of Freed's hand without waiting, and went rigid.
"You're restricting his magic!" He yelled, and everyone surrounding them seemed to tense. "And giving him weekly interviews to check where his mind is?"
"What is wrong with you?" Ever snapped, and Laxus felt lightning dance over his skin in agreement. "Are you finding some kind of pleasure in-"
"I requested this," Freed cut them off, and everyone turned to him. "The summons legitimises it, but this is entirely my idea and done under my orders. While I don't believe that there are any consequences to my exorcism, we can't be sure, and regular magical testing will help identify and alleviate any that do occur. And," he looked a little sad for a moment, "people are scared of me, and they will be for quite some time. At least me being known by the knights will give them a semblance of comfort."
Laxus gritted his teeth. "Fuckin' bullshit."
"Real life often is," Freed said, squeezing Laxus' neck. "It's three months. I'll manage."
The knight gave him a sharp nod, and walked away from where Fairy Tail had settled so that he could start disbanding the knights and taking down the runes. Freed looked up at his guildmates, knowing that some of them worked hard to protect him and others doubted him and his motives, and sat a little straighter.
"There's a lot to say, I expect. Both things I need to say, and you need to say," he addressed them all. "But, frankly, I'm quite tired, I've just been stabbed in the heart, and I'm currently naked in a public space at midnight, so perhaps we could push this back a few days."
With a chuckle at Freed's slightly jovial dismissal, the guild started to walk away. Laxus caught it as Freed gave smiles or nods to Levy, Lucy and Mirajane, having been told how they were just as responsible for helping him as Laxus and the Raijinshuu. Even still, he didn't remove his hand from Laxus' neck.
Soon, while the park was by no means empty, it became just the four of them. They all seemed to be looking at Freed for permission, and when his shoulders dropped just a fraction, Bickslow and Ever pounced and launched at him, wrapping him up tight.
"You never get to do anything like that again," Ever snapped, her voice wavering. "Or we'll leave you to die and laugh about it. Do you understand me?"
"Yes," Freed agreed.
"Give me permission. Give me permission to laugh at your death."
"You have my permission to laugh when I die," Freed assured her, and was then pulled into her stomach for another hug that looked painful as it did comforting. But Laxus could see as Freed's shoulders shook for a moment, before he schooled himself.
She pulled away, eyes red and makeup smeared. "I'll go get you the clothes we bought."
Once she was gone, Bickslow looked down at Freed with crossed arms, but spoke as if he might break. "I'm mad at you."
"I understand."
"You owe me like fifty shopping trips for this."
"Completely fair."
"And we're bringing Laxus along so he can drool over you but can't touch you."
"If that's what you wish."
Bickslow nodded, stood tall, and then his face melted into an expression of pure misery before he pulled Freed into him and hugged him so tight that his muscles strained under his shirt. Freed hugged him just as tightly, and Laxus could hear as Bickslow whispered. "Never leave me again, okay? I can't do it without you."
"I won't," Freed promised.
"I don't like knowing what it's like when you're dead," Bickslow shivered the words out.
"Then I suppose I'll have to live forever, won't I?"
"You better," Bickslow pulled back, wiped his eyes, and put on a weak smile as he looked at Laxus. "Your turn lover boy. Get your man."
Laxus turned to Freed. The grasp on his neck had been broken as Bix and Ever had hugged Freed, and Laxus had stepped back to give them space. Now, they were perhaps a foot apart, Laxus standing straight while Freed sat on his alter. They looked at each other for a moment before Laxus spoke. "You alright?"
"I'm alright," Freed assured him. Laxus nodded, and that was that.
Ever rushed back with a bag of clothes, and Freed wrapped the sheet around his waist and walked to a nearby large-trunked tree. The tree protected his modesty, as well as Laxus who had been tasked with holding the sheet to cover his front. Laxus made sure to keep his gaze locked to the side, and didn't appreciate Freed's little smirk nor the whispered amusement coming from Bix and Ever. Soon enough Freed was dressed in clothes that weren't his own but suited his style enough. Formal, minimal, a little snug around the ass. Not that Laxus was looking.
Once dressed, they all seemed at a bit of a loss of what to do. It was night and, other than his self-induced weekly check-ins with the law, he was free to go. The demon's corpse had been covered in a tent, and Laxus didn't miss how Freed wasn't looking anywhere near it. He needed distraction, not to be trapped in the situation further.
"Ready to go?" He asked, and Freed nodded, then frowned.
"I'm not quite sure where I should be, given I don't have a house anymore," he admitted. "I don't suppose I could borrow your sofa, Bix, at least-"
"You're staying in my hotel room," Laxus said plainly.
Freed waited for a moment. "And how many beds does-"
"One."
"And therefore, we will be-"
"Sharin'. If you're good with that."
"I am."
Laxus nodded and started to walk to the nearest exit of the park. He didn't miss how Freed took a step closer to him, walking close enough so that their knuckles could graze as they moved. He also didn't miss Ever fanning herself and Bickslow squealing for a moment before making himself quiet.
Laxus paid them no mind. Freed was his, and if he had to endure gossip, or teasing, or prying then he would. So long as Freed was there by his side, nothing was too big a price to pay.
—
The walk to the hotel Laxus was staying at was on the other side of town from Bickslow's apartment, and caused them to split ways. They made it very clear that they would be arriving at the hotel early in the morning and would be sticking to Freed like glue for the next month at the least, so to expect them and 'make themselves decent' before Bix and Ever showed up.
With that, and another round of hugs, it became just Freed and Laxus.
"Would you mind if we walked past the house?" Freed asked after a few moments of just the two of them. "I know it's out of the way."
"That's fine, if you're up for it," Laxus assured him, then frowned a little. "There's not much left. You're not gonna be able to, like, salvage anything."
Freed had guessed as much, but wanted to see it anyway, so they walked the winding streets of Magnolia until they found the mostly dismantled barricades and the scattered rubble of brick and tile. They rounded the corner, and saw what was once an end terrace house, now nothing but a pile of demolished nothing ready to be taken away.
The pressure of a hand on his lower back, there and waiting to support Freed, was as welcomed as it was unfamiliar.
There was nothing to be said, really. Most things he had ever owned were in that house. Everything he'd accrued, or cared for, or cherished was now nothing but crushed to dust or smashed beyond repair. A lifetime of gathering and collecting now broken and buried, leaning him homeless and adrift. But not alone.
He would never be alone again; he was quite sure of that.
"You should probably have this back," Laxus said suddenly, untucking the sword from his belt.
Freed looked from his old house and to his weapon. He looked at the runes, then pressed a finger to the blade, and the magic shimmered away, but he didn't take it. "I'd like you to keep it."
"What?" Laxus froze. "But it's yours. You told me it's the most important-"
"Not anymore, and I quite like the idea of you having it," Freed smiled slightly at the truth of his words. The sword was Laxus' now. It just felt right. "Perhaps I can teach you how to use it. And of course you'll need a scabbard. You'd look quite fetching with one, actually."
Keeping in step, Laxus looked down at the sword. "You're just… givin' it to me?"
"I am," Freed said, and he sounded sure and unmoving in his decision.
Only someone who knew Freed well would know what that meant. His sword was his lifeblood. He channelled his magic through it. He defended himself with it. It was the first thing he had ever bought with his own money, and he used it to protect himself not only in battle, but from his own thoughts and the hell that could be other people. His sword was his shield, and he'd given it to Laxus.
Laxus looked at the sword again, then spoke. "You said it wasn't the plan for me to come out, or proclaim my love and save you. What was the plan?"
Freed looked back to his house. "I didn't know how long I would be trapped in there. If you didn't figure it out, it might have been years. Decades. Enough time for you to…" he trailed off, but Laxus was looking at him insistently. "Laxus, you saved my life, and made me who I am, and I've loved you for years. Knowing that you hated yourself so thoroughly, it was awful. I theorised that overwhelming emotional reactions would purge the magic from me. The only thing I could think of that would make me emotional enough to cause that would be… for you to accept yourself."
While he didn't look, Freed could see from the corner of his eye as Laxus tensed.
"I thought, if I were there for long enough, perhaps I'd see you grow to love yourself. Perhaps to find a man worthy of your love. I thought maybe seeing you be yourself unapologetically would make me happy, even if I weren't there to be a part of it."
"I wouldn't have found anyone who-"
"You would have. You're wonderful, and eventually the right person would see that," Freed said with certainty. "The sword wasn't meant to be enchanted, either. I didn't even mean to throw it out, but the second it happened I was glad it did. I wanted you to have it because I thought it might help you be yourself. I like to think I'm fairly authentic in who I am, eccentricities and all. You used to make fun of me for having a sword but rarely using it as an actual sword, do you remember?"
Laxus laughed weakly. "Used to say you were only holdin' it just so you could strut around actin' like you knew how to use it."
"You were closer to the truth than you think. I partially learned how to wield it properly out of spite," Freed grinned. "But, if I did get trapped in there for years, or if killing me did become the only option, I thought the sword might remind you being true to yourself isn't so bad. That maybe I could do one more thing for you, even if I wasn't with you anymore."
Laxus shoulder's shook for a moment, and Freed didn't turn to look and get confirmation as to why. They both knew, and that was enough.
Without warning, Laxus removed his coat from his shoulders. He wrapped it around Freed, the fur soft and kicking at his heels slightly. Freed halted but let Laxus wrap it around him so that it stayed on, forgoing the sleeves in the way Laxus always had.
"A trade, then," Laxus said, and his voice sounded like he was holding back tears. "Since your red coat got torn up."
"You're sure?" Freed asked.
"As sure as you are in giving me your sword," Laxus promised.
Freed smiled, wrapped the coat a little tighter around himself. He spared another quick glance at the house, before turning to Laxus. "I think I've seen enough of this, and I can't imagine my neighbours are happy to see me. Shall we go."
Laxus looked at him sadly, but nodded. They both walked on, and with Laxus' coat now wrapped around him, Freed felt as though he was walking from one part of his life to the next.
Laxus wrapped a strong arm around him, and Freed found hope to be inevitable.
Summary: When magic flares and runes are written, Freed is found in his home, wrapped up and trapped in his own magic. He’s partially transformed, his soul is rotting, and his eyes are dead. He’s left behind a puzzle of traps and a summons for the exiled Laxus Dreyar. A summons that, by all interpretations, would make Laxus his executioner.
Laxus refuses to kill the man he cares for more than anyone else. But with an untrusting guild, a mystery that seemed hell bent on not being solved, and the threat of slaughter ever looming, can Laxus do anything to save the man he loves before he must kill him with his own hands?
Notes: Hi, there’s some canon typical violence that gets a bit descriptive, but not too bad in this chapter. Hope you enjoy it.
Link: Ao3, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter
Chapter Fourteen – Exorcism
The way they made Freed walk in shackles and chains was enough to make Bickslow scream and rage.
He knew why it had to happen. He knew that Freed's demon was a powder keg and the chains were stopping it from exploding, but surely, they could have done this better. Surely, they could have found a way to keep Freed's magic contained as they walked him to Magnolia's central park that didn't scream perp walk. This was as much political theatre enacted by the Magnolian council as it was practical necessity.
But he held his tongue and stopped himself from raging in the way he wanted. Freed walked through the streets with his head held high, despite the clanking shackles around his waist, wrists and ankles. If he could do that, then Bickslow could hold his anger back for one more day. But it was getting to be a close-run thing, now.
One more night, that was all it would take.
It was the night of the full moon, and the night of Freed's exorcism. They would drag the demon out from Freed's soul, kill it, and free their friend. Tonight, it would all be over. Freed would be free, and safe, and they could all put this shit behind them all.
Bickslow wasn't walking with Freed, but Ever and Laxus were. Bickslow's affinity to soul magic meant he was uniquely useful, and therefore had been in the briefing taken place in the park. Mirajane, being demonic and knowledgeable herself, was leading the exorcism. You needed a demon to extract a demon, apparently, and they'd all listened in great detail at what they needed to do.
There were to be three groups. Those dealing with Freed's soul, those dealing with Freed's life, and those dealing with the demon.
Bickslow and Mira were the only members of the Soul team. Mirajane would use her demonic magic to taunt and goad the demon in Freed's soul to leave, challenging Mira's own demon to battle. Demons were blood thirsty and territorial, and were naturally inclined to fight to the death. Bickslow would use his own magic to bolster Freed's soul, fortifying it and making it less inhabitable for the demon, further incentivising it to leave, become corporeal, and fight the challenge Mira was presenting it.
Laxus and Ever would be on the team focused on Freed's life. Freed would be unconscious throughout, but his soul and body would need time to recover. While hired healing mages would be tending to his injuries under Porlyusica's instructions, the rest of the group would be recounting stories of Freed's life. Memories to help solidify his identity, as well as give him a reason to keep fighting. Not just Laxus and Ever, either. Lucy and Levy had offered their help, too.
The final group was comprised of any mage the guild could find, with one very simple goal. Once the demon was physical and present, they would kill it.
Freed passed through the runes that ran the perimeter of the now evacuated park. It was the part of Magnolia most exposed to the sky, and therefore the moonlight. The rune knights had created a strong barrier to stop anyone from entering without permission, and guarded it with spears drawn. They had one chance, and they could not be interrupted.
"Hey," Bickslow greeted when Freed, Laxus and Ever approached the alter that had been set up. "You feelin' okay?"
"As well as can be expected," Freed said, which meant he was terrified but fronting it.
"You'll be fine," Laxus promised, hand resting almost possessively on Freed's neck.
He clearly didn't want to let him go, and Bickslow couldn't blame him. Even if Freed wasn't in danger, Bickslow suspected Laxus wouldn't want to keep Freed out of his sight. After their meeting in the jail, Freed had no longer been allowed anyone to visit. Apparently making out between the bars was a step too far, and was a well known way of smuggling in contraband. Bickslow thought they were happy to have the excuse to make Freed's life worse while he was there, but couldn't say it and risk Freed's treatment further.
"Five minutes and we'll be done," Ever agreed, and Freed gave a short nod.
"Theres no point dragging it out," Freed said, taking the white cloth that was resting on the alter for him.
He stripped off his clothes, having to cut at the cuffs where the shackles blocked them, with the sheet wrapped around his waist for modesty. He was thinner than normal, but his exercise in the jail seemed to have counteracted the effects of not eating for weeks. Laxus was scratching Freed's neck in a gesture meant to comfort him, and Bickslow saw him lean into the touch and relax slightly.
Under the eyes of the guild, the town, and his team, Freed climbed onto the alter. He moved the sheet so that it covered his lower half like a blanket, and laid flat, his head resting against hard stone. His hair wasn't tied, and fanned out around him. He looked beautiful, and quietly terrified.
Bickslow took his place, standing on the edge of the alter next to Freed's head. He leant down and gave him a peck on the forehead, just in case.
"Love you," he whispered. "See you on the other side."
Freed smiled at him, and then Bickslow channelled magic into his eyes, and entered Freed's soul.
It was as it had been the last time he saw it, only darker. It felt like he had entered a dimension made of thick, clotting ink. A sword stood firm in the centre, half drowned in the ink and with a reptile wrapped around it. A candle sat atop, where the hilt should be, still burning and flickering and untainted. The reptile looked towards Bickslow, and hissed.
"I will have him," the demon promised.
Bickslow shook his head, and pushed all the magic he could access forward. It rippled through him in a rush like nothing else, more power than he'd ever been able to harness. It barrelled forward, striking the candle atop the sword.
Bright, brilliant light almost blinded Bickslow.
The game was on, and they would win.
——
Ever kept her eyes on Mirajane from the moment Bickslow cast his spell.
She was crouched on one side of the alter, clasping Freed's hand tightly in a grip that was just as much for her sanity as it was for Freed's. Laxus was doing the same on the other side, looking more scared than Ever had ever seen him. Lucy and Levy were kneeling close by, ready to bring their own stories and promises of hope. Truthfully, she didn't know what use they'd be, but she would take any help she could.
Bickslow's eyes began to glow, and Mirajane sucked in a breath. She motioned for Porlyusica to attend, and the old woman walked forward holding a slightly flowing black potion. She pressed it against Freed's lips without a word, having him drink it all without stopping.
Freed fell limp, unconscious and unmoving. Ever held him tighter.
Mira opened the large spellbook she had been holding, and began to chant in a language that Ever had never heard before. But the words held magic in them, Ever could feel it. With every syllable, it felt thicker and thicker in the air. The moon seemed to glow brighter, and Freed's skin glowed black somehow.
All around them, people seemed to tense and ready themselves. They knew what had to happen next, and they knew that they were reaching the point of no return.
Ever lifted Freed's hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles, and found herself doing it again and again, lost in the small comfort that the action gave her. Freed was here, with her, and she would keep him safe if it killed her.
But so much could go wrong. So much of this could tumble down, and Freed could die.
"You be strong now," Ever whispered an order. "You be strong and you come back to us."
"He will," Laxus said, sounding so much more sure than Ever knew him to be.
"What if he doesn't?" She all but gasped the words out, voicing the horrible thought she'd been pushing down since all of this begun.
"Then we kick down the doors to hell and bring him back to us."
Ever nodded, somehow knowing that Laxus would find a way to do just that if he needed to, and gave Freed's knuckles one final kiss.
"It's time," Mirajane said softly, looking at one of the rune knights that was lingering close by.
Sucking up a breath, Ever watched as Mira brandished a gnarled obsidian dagger. It glowed in her hand, which shuddered and flickered into its demonic counterpart, before settling back to her human form. She looked nervous but resolute as she moved the dagger to rest over Freed's chest, the tip of it poking his skin. The knight brandished a key, which also glowed with magic ready to be cast.
There was an infinite moment, a tiny stretch of eternity, where nothing happened.
And then, pandemonium.
The shackles that denied Freed's his magic stopped humming and fell apart, clattering to the ground.
Mirajane raised the dagger, then slammed it down right into Freed's heart.
Black, inky like shadows burst out of Freed's convulsing, screaming body, making a vortex of blood and cartilage and bone above them.
There was a moment when grief struck Ever so hard it nearly killed her. She could feel her life slipping away at the possibility that they'd got this wrong somehow. That they'd misunderstood what they were meant to do, or played into the demon's hands, or that they were sitting there, grasping the hands of a corpse with no hope of ever seeing Freed again.
But action was spurred, and sitting on the sidelines would do no good. Every healing mage they'd been able to convince to help swarmed on Freed the moment Mira pulled out the dagger from his chest. Under Porlyusica's snapped orders, blue and yellow hazes of strong magic covered Freed, and from where she crouched, she could see the stitching of Freed's heart in his chest. They would save him, they would heal him, they would keep him safe.
Now she had to do her part. She held onto his hand as tight as she could, and said anything and everything she could think of.
That she loved him.
That she needed him to be okay.
That she ate every single one of those damn cookies he insisted on making.
That she couldn't stand living on this rock of a planet without him there with her.
That he was right, and the Strauss boy had caught her eye, and he could tease her about that if he wanted.
That he had been the reason she'd stuck around the guild after everything; him and Bix.
That he had so much to live for.
That he could finally be with Laxus if he just woke up.
That he was so loved.
That he was a bastard for putting them through this.
That he needed to make it up to them all.
That he would never have to want for anything again if he just opened his eyes.
Her words were a mess of many, with Laxus unleashing a similar barrage of promises and demands and admissions. Lucy and Levy were speaking too, recanting stories that Freed had been involved in that they'd enjoyed, or making promises on what they could do as a guild when he was back. They were all speaking over each other, offering anything and everything they could for Freed to latch onto.
Manic laughter cackled above them, and the vortex vanished into a demon that looked like Freed's, but not. Anything that Freed brought to the creature was gone, and now there was pure evil. Wings made of bones, flesh dripping over its scales, and a grin so cruel it warped the world.
Its head snapped down, catching Ever's eyes. "It won't work, girl. He will be mine and you will be dead."
Ever gritted her teeth. "Fuck off."
When the roar of attack came, Ever focused back on Freed.
Fairy Tail were one again, all in agreement and all working for one goal. Ever heard the scorch of fire, the shimmer of blades, the disruption of the ground as plants burst upwards. Every damn mage in the guild had come, and they were going to kill this motherfucker if it was the last thing they did. They were going to save Freed.
"Can you hear that?" She asked. "They're all here for you. All of them. Can you see them. They all care."
Ever looked over her head as wooden manacles from Laki dragged the demon to the ground. Erza and Jet were fighting in tandem, slashing and hitting at the demon from all angles. Gray was sending frost on the ground to trap it so it couldn't fly again. Natsu and Gajeel let out their respective roars, hitting him from either side as Erza and Jet fell back. Max flew harsh bursts of sand in it's face to disconcert it. Juvia extinguished any hellfire it tried to summon. Alzack and Bisca shot at its limbs to further paralyse it. Elfman lurched at it in beast form, holding it down as Cana's cards flew through the air and sliced at its eyes.
There was a moment, just the slightest of breaks where the timing was off, where nothing hit the demon. Just for a second. Just for a heartbeat. But it broke free from its restraints, threw the guildmembers off it, and flew to the sky. Manic black and red magic flickered above it, and Ever knew what that spell was. A bomb. A bomb Freed had never used.
But it didn't go off.
A hand, stretched and warped to the point of hugeness, grabbed the demon. Ever watched as Makarov grabbed and squeezed the demon, before slamming it down on the ground. He stretched himself to giant's size, pummelling his fist again and again into the demon.
"You have hurt my children long enough!" Makarov roared. "No more!"
Ever was breathless and silent for a moment, before looking back to Freed's unconscious body. "They love you, and they are here for you," she promised. "So wake the hell up!"
——
Laxus felt tears falling down his face as he rested his forehead against Freed's.
He had no words left to speak, nothing left to do, nothing useful that would help. He just had to let Freed know that he was here and waiting and wouldn't be going anywhere without Freed again. That wasn't happening, and Freed must know that now. He'd promised it enough over the past few minutes. He just had to be there.
The chaos around them fell silent, all of a sudden. Laxus looked over his shoulder, panic rising and falling within the same second. The mages of Fairy Tail were all standing, crackling with magic and weapons drawn, surrounding something on the ground. The demon.
It thrashed and roared and spat and cursed, but it could do nothing. It was wrapped up in ice and metal and wood and plants and magic. It wasn't going to get out. It was weak now; Makarov's power was not to be dismissed when he was truly angry. The demon was finished but not killed yet. What were they waiting for? Freed needed the demon to be killed for him to wake up, so why not kill it?
All at once, the guild turned to look at Laxus.
They wanted him to do it.
No. Not quite.
They were giving him the chance to be the one to do it.
A chance that Laxus was so fucking ready to take.
He cupped Freed's hand and kissed his palm, before resting his lips right by Freed's ear. "I'm gonna be right back, you understand me?" He promised. "This is only gonna take a second, and then I'm gonna be right back here with you for when you wanna wake up. You better believe me, because I'm never gonna lie to you again."
Freed lay still, and Laxus' anger roiled.
As he walked towards the demon, Laxus let the anger consume him. The anger of all the fucked up shit his father did to him. The anger of being kicked out of the guild. The anger of Freed being in danger. The anger of the town treating his friends like they had. The anger of Freed's feelings for him being warped into something impure. The anger of this demon thinking he could be yet another obstacle in the way of Laxus getting to Freed.
When he reached the demon, it glared at him with hatred in its eyes. It didn't say anything, and Laxus knew that meant he'd won. The demon had nothing more to say because it's knew it's day had come, and Laxus would be the one to end it.
Wordlessly, Laxus covered his fist in lightning. He slammed it down with all the force he could muster, propelled by his magic, and burst the demon's ribcage clean open. Through flesh and matter, he found what he was looking for. A heart. The demon had a heart, and while it beat slower than any human's and was jet black, it was still a heart. Laxus took it in hand and squeezed, relishing the scream of agony.
"I hope this really fuckin' hurts," he promised.
The lightning he channelled into his hand was more powerful, brutal and manic than any magic he'd ever cast. He gave every drop of magical energy he could access. Storm clouds gathered above him, lightning striking down and hitting him dead on to refuel his power. He squeezed and squeezed, ripping into the demon's heart and filling it with his lightning.
Below him, the demon thrashed until it didn't. Its cries fell silent and his movements went limp.
Laxus kept going, frying and scorching the corpse below him until it was blackened and crispy. Nobody stopped him. Nobody even said anything. They watched in silent revery and disgust as Laxus brutalised the body of the creature that had tried to kill Freed.
He had become a murderer after all, and he didn't care a bit.
With a quick movement, he removed his hand from the demon's chest cavity and stood tall. He walked towards Freed again, the crowd of mages parting for him. His hand was dripping with black blood, but he didn't care. Getting to Freed was his priority.
He crouched beside him, cupped his face with his bloodied hand, and leant down to give Freed the softest kiss he'd ever thought to give. He was back at Freed's side, and would stay there until the day he died.
With a harsh gasp, Freed felt the life flood back into him. He jerked upwards, and saw the carnage, blood, and magic that surrounded him.
But more than anything, he saw Laxus, and as the world spun around them, for the first time in his life, Freed felt safe.
Summary: When magic flares and runes are written, Freed is found in his home, wrapped up and trapped in his own magic. He’s partially transformed, his soul is rotting, and his eyes are dead. He’s left behind a puzzle of traps and a summons for the exiled Laxus Dreyar. A summons that, by all interpretations, would make Laxus his executioner.
Laxus refuses to kill the man he cares for more than anyone else. But with an untrusting guild, a mystery that seemed hell bent on not being solved, and the threat of slaughter ever looming, can Laxus do anything to save the man he loves before he must kill him with his own hands?
Notes: Hi, again nothing to warn you about this chapter. But big news; they might actually talk in this one! Hope you enjoy it.
Link: Ao3, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter
Chapter Thirteen: Conversation
It was practically a feat of god that Laxus was showing this much patience. Yes, lightning was covering every surface that he could see in the jail, leaking from him like he was made of it. Yes, he'd damn well brought a thunderstorm with him with every step it took to take him to the jail, a level of magic he'd never known he possessed. Yes, his face was murderous, and body so tense he looked ready to snap and kill the first person to get in his way.
But he hadn't hurt anyone. Not yet. The world should be thankful for that.
The slow-moving breath-waster who worked at Magnolia's jail compound finally stepped away from the coms Lacrima he had been speaking into, and turned to face Laxus, Bix and Ever. He seemed resigned for just a moment, before he got a good look at Laxus as his resignation turned to outright fear. Anyone who might be getting in Laxus' way today should be fearful.
How dare they? How dare they lock Freed away like he was some damn criminal, when he had been acting only to save their pitiful, pointless, repetitive lives. Everything Freed had done to himself was in the aid of the people in this town, and what did they do? Throw him behind bars. Laxus would make them regret that.
No.
No he wouldn't.
He would not fall back into the habits that had sent him from the guild in the first place.
If he had better control before, maybe he would have been on the same mission as Freed and none of this would have happened. Or maybe Freed wouldn't have gone on the mission at all – too busy assisting Laxus with a problem worthy of his time – and some other inconsequential little brat would be dealing with this. That was what should have happened. Freed should have been protected from shit like this, not dragged into the heart of it and then flayed for how he saved himself.
"You've been granted permission to speak with him for no more than ten minutes," the guard behind the desk said, voice forced into firmness. "You may not enter the detainee's cell. You may not make any attempts to open the detainee's cell or counteract the magical dampening spells. You may not give any items to the detainee that-"
"Call him a detainee again," Laxus challenged. "See what happens if you do."
"Laxus," Ever said with warning in her voice. "Play nice."
"I am," Laxus grinned a not-so-nice grin. "Ain't I, Bix? This is me bein' nice right now."
"Seems pretty nice to me," Bickslow backed him up, and the sound of a fan hitting the back of his head quickly followed.
The jailor looked at the three of them with wary caution, then went back to Laxus. He put a bit of a show of straightening his back and still fell nearly a foot shorter than Laxus. He spoke with forced rigidity, though clearly swallowed down his nerves. "Follow me."
They walked through the winding hallways of the compound, stopping and starting at every locked door they were presented with. With each halt, Laxus' hackles raised higher and higher. They thought they needed this to keep the town safe from Freed? From the man who had saved them all at the cost of his own sanity and, if Laxus hadn't been there, his own life? He should burn this place to the ground and dance with Freed in the light of the cinders.
Eventually, they reached the final door, which the jailor unlocked then stood to the side of, motioning for Laxus to go in. "Only one cell occupied in this wing. You'll find him."
Not giving him more details was clearly the little fuckers way of getting his own back, but that was fine. Laxus had already picked up Freed's scent – it was a little more pungent than normal, and it roiled down Laxus' senses wonderfully – and would track him down before the minute was up.
And anyway, by law jailers had to have information about them available so inmates could know of any conflict of interest they may have with their custodians. Laxus could know anything and everything he wanted before sundown, and could get his own revenge.
Should he want to.
Which he didn't.
Following his nose, he walked down the cramped walkway, ignoring vacant cells he knew Freed wouldn't be in. They were all too small to be comfortable, with a thin rubber mattress on a wooden bedframe, a toilet tucked behind a small wall to give the illusion of privacy, and the smallest of slits in the exterior wall in place of a window. Large bars took the place of the fourth wall, glowing with magical dampening spells that had Laxus' lightning retreating back into it's Lacrima again.
He halted as the overwhelming scent of Freed struck him, and he turned and doubled his pace. Bix and Ever had agreed to hold back to give them some privacy, and he was out of sight form the jailor now, so his jog turned into a run as he hunted Freed down.
And finally, there he was.
Entirely himself, again. In the rush of the moment, Laxus hadn't had time to truly see him with the demon's influence gone. But now, for the first time in months, he could see the most important man in his life. Flesh and bone and soul.
He looked alive again. Flushed and heaving, with the thinnest sheen of sweat covering his skin. He turned at the sound of Laxus' footsteps, and the stretch of his skin over taut muscles was so entirely human and fluid that it was enough to make Laxus weak. His face was no longer slack nor restrained and moved from one emotion to the next with the perfect ease that came with life. Freed was back, and himself, and in front of him.
"Hey," Laxus gasped, coming to a halt, leaning against the bars that separated them.
"Hello," Freed smiled a little as he spoke, voice still raspy and hoarse. "You came."
——
Freed had spent a lot of time in his entrapment – both in the jail and in his runes – thinking about Laxus. It was easy for a wandering, unenriched mind to glorify or over-exaggerated a person's better qualities. To make a man taller, to make his features that more cut or defined, to make his smile more resplendent.
But no, Laxus was as he always had been. The most beautiful man to walk the ground.
His fear and vulnerability made him even more beautiful, as twisted a thought though that may be. In the moment, with his slight panting and his honest eyes and his worried little frown, Laxus was more himself than Freed had ever seen him. A man made like any other, and in his conformity to being a person, not a god, he stood higher than he ever had before.
"You're…" Laxus gasped out, mind clearly whirling.
Freed let him think and let his clever mind wonder. Laxus had been playing catch up time and time again, Freed was sure. He didn't know the exact details of what had happened in the guild, but it seemed Levy, Lucy and Mira had figured out what was happening with Freed, and the guild had been fighting within itself to even let Laxus know. He can't have been awake from his coma for long, and was still in the maelstrom of the moment.
But not Freed. Freed had had far too long to think, and had known every possible outcome that might have happened. For him to be alive, and moving, and in Laxus' presence was a miracle of the most opportune sort. He could wait a little longer for Laxus to decide whatever it was he wanted to say first.
"You're," Laxus repeated, and he swallowed. "You ain't wearing a shirt."
With a stall, Freed had to laugh slightly. Out of all the things to say, Laxus had said that? Of course he had, darling little train wreck he could be. Freed shrugged slightly. "I'm not."
"You're, erm… have you been…"
"I've been exercising," Freed finished the thought, grabbing a towel to dry off some of the sweat. "I can put a shirt on if it makes you more comfortable."
Laxus' gaze flickered all over Freed for the briefest of moments, so quick that Freed might have missed it if he didn't so love Laxus' eyes. "No," he all but barked, and then those pretty eyes widened. "Not if you don't want to, I mean. You should be comfortable. As comfortable as you can be in this shithole anyway."
"Very well-"
"I mean, what the fuck is wrong with these people?" Laxus continued, tone hardening as he pushed himself away from the bars to pace. "You saved their asses. They fucking know that. You without holding back would have damn near flattened this town, and what do they do to you as thanks for stopping it? Lock you up! Seclude you! Put you behind bars."
"Laxus," Freed tried again.
"It's bullshit! This town is bullshit!" Laxus' voice echoed. "I spent all that time on my own, beating myself up about how I treated the people here, but maybe I had a point, y'know? Maybe this backwater little crap hole needed to be shaken up because they could barely defend themselves against an actual threat, but when a guy saves them and nearly dies doin' it, they arrest him! Sling him away! No gratitude. No respect. No honour. Fucking should've crushed it while I could've."
He was agitating himself on purpose, now. Saying things he didn't mean. "Laxus, that's enough."
"D'you have any idea how they were treating you in the guild? Did Bix and Ever say, because that was a load o' crap too," he ran his hands through his hair. "Half of them were ready to let you die! Or to just leave you in there for as long as you lasted. There's hundreds of motherfuckers in that guild and maybe like, what, five of them were helpful outside of the team. They have all these goddamn parades talking about how nice they are, but not to you. Not to us. Wouldn't be like that if I took over. Would've made sure-"
"Enough!" Freed yelled, and it reverberated through the emptiness of the stone wing. Laxus halted, looking cowed and taken aback, and Freed lowered his voice to a softer, gentler tone. "You were scared, and you were angry, and I expect you were mistreated. You've likely barely been awake for an hour, and I think that you're still in the midst of an adrenaline rush. I think you've got your magic back and it's fuelling you, and you feel like all you can do is scream and rage. Am I right?"
Laxus averted his gaze and let out a small, "Yeah."
"That's understandable, and more than fair. But don't let it make you cruel again," Freed wrapped his hand around the bar Laxus had previously grasped. "I don't like the consequences you endure when you're cruel."
With a weak little nod, Laxus took a breath and looked back to Freed. "I nearly lost you."
"I know."
"I don't want to lose you."
"I don't want to be lost."
"I don't like that you're in here."
"I know you don't," Freed assured him, breathing in Laxus' presence when Laxus stepped closer to the bars that separated them. "But I wouldn't be in here if I didn't think this was the right decision, and I'm afraid to say that it is."
"You didn't do anything wrong," Laxus argued.
"Don't see it as me being imprisoned, see it as me being restrained," Freed said, resting his forehead against the coolness of the metal bar. "The demon is still inside of me, Laxus, and we don't know how it'll manifest. It's stronger now, I'm sure of it. It could mean, rather than whispering at me, it can scream. It could mean that it could taint my other magic and add other effects to my spells. Or it could mean that it could take me over and kill me exactly as we feared it would before."
Laxus' gaze hardened. "I won't let it."
"You don't have to, that's why I'm here," Freed tapped the side of a bar. "The demon only exists in magic. For as long as I'm in here, it can't do anything."
"So you're just gonna live here now? Or get your magic fully stripped off of you and never cast a spell again?" Laxus growled at the very idea of it, protective little dragon. "I didn't break you out of there just for you to get locked up or have your life ruined some other way."
Freed had to smile at that. Laxus would never consider himself a romantic man, Freed was sure, but he was one. Only a romantic could say something like that in total earnest.
"I'm not the first person to be overwhelmed by a demon he made a deal with, Laxus. Protocols are in place, and I've been assured that Mirajane is spearheading everything from a position of knowledge, and I can't imagine she'd let them kick their heals and push the problem to the bottom of the pile," Freed wanted to cup Laxus' cheek, tilt his head up and give him comfort. But he didn't. "This will be dealt with, and I will be free and as empowered as before. We just need to wait until the moment is right. Until then, I have to stay here."
"How long's that gonna be?" Laxus asked. "Because I still think this is bullshit. They couldn't even be bothered to give you a real mattress or something to read?"
It was hard not to smile at how openly Laxus was showing he cared. This was new for him, and Freed had to admit he enjoyed it. "I should be here no longer than a week. We just need a full moon."
"For what, exactly?"
"An exorcism," Freed stated as plainly, and the word hung there limp and dangerous.
"That gonna hurt?" Laxus eventually asked.
"Yes," Freed admitted.
Laxus let that settle in his mind, clenching his jaw and crossing his arms. "You get a week before I start tryin' to get you out of here myself. And I think I've proven that I'm pretty damn good at doin' that, so don't test me."
"I won't," Freed promised, smiling for a moment before sadness grew inside of him. Laxus was being vulnerable and honest, and as such, Freed must be too. "Speaking of how you freed me from my runes, there's something I need to say. A point of clarification needs to be made. And an apology, this time with an explanation."
"You don't need to-"
"I never meant to force you to come out before you were ready," Freed cut him off. "That wasn't what I was trying to do, that was never what I was trying to do. And if the sword made you say anything, or the situation made you do anything that you now wish you could take back, or wish you hadn't said or done, then you have my apologies. I didn't consider that that might happen in the moment, and I'm sorry."
Laxus looked taken aback. "Freed-"
"And I need you to know that there is absolutely no obligation for you to act on anything further between us," Freed pushed on. "My life is no longer in danger the way it was before, and I would completely understand if now that I am safe you want to forget what happened, or simply move passed it, and that is absolutely fine. You shouldn't have been put in that position in the first place, and I want it to be explicitly clear that you don't owe me anything, nor am I expecting anything from you."
"You're being stupid."
"And, for the point of full honestly, what you were shown in those dreams were accurate," Freed's cheeks flushed slightly, but Laxus deserved to know. "That is how I have seen you, and I have indulged in moments of fantasy with you. If that means you want to take a step back from our-"
Freed was cut off when a strong arm breeched through the gap between two of the bars, grabbed him by the back of the head, and yanked him hard by his hair. He was pulled flush against the bars, skin cooling on the metal as Laxus glared at him with more certainty than Freed had ever seen from him
"I don't say things that I don't mean and I don't do things I don't want," Laxus promised. "And you are mine!"
He pushed himself against the bars, as close to chest to chest as they could get, and brought Freed into the roughest, neediest, most brutal kiss Freed had ever felt. The moment Freed started to kiss back, Laxus melted into the pliant, respondent, good man Freed always had known him to be. Only when Freed allowed it did they part, a string of saliva bridging their lips before falling.
"Promise me," Freed whispered. "Promise me you mean that."
"Can't exactly lie, can I?" Laxus nodded down.
Freed's pupils dilated slightly as he saw that Laxus' hand was grasped tight around the hilt of Freed's own blade, with his runes glowing strong and firm, meaning Laxus could not lie nor deceive. He had been holding it while claiming Freed. Proclaiming to the world and to the essence of magic that Freed was his and, Freed suspected, he was Freed's. A perfect, undeniable, honest declaration.
He was Laxus', and Laxus was his.
This time, Freed was the aggressor. He reached around and took Laxus by the back of his neck and pulled him into another scorching, toe curling, perfect kiss. For the first time in weeks, Freed felt at peace.
Summary: When magic flares and runes are written, Freed is found in his home, wrapped up and trapped in his own magic. He’s partially transformed, his soul is rotting, and his eyes are dead. He’s left behind a puzzle of traps and a summons for the exiled Laxus Dreyar. A summons that, by all interpretations, would make Laxus his executioner.
Laxus refuses to kill the man he cares for more than anyone else. But with an untrusting guild, a mystery that seemed hell bent on not being solved, and the threat of slaughter ever looming, can Laxus do anything to save the man he loves before he must kill him with his own hands?
Notes: Hi, nothing to warn you about other than a medical coma without any complications, but a bit of Freed fan service this time to balance it out.
Link: Ao3, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter
ACT III
Chapter Twelve: Cages
When Laxus woke, it was to the gentle humming of a diagnostics spell hovering right by his face. He batted the hand away before he'd opened his eyes, screwing his face up a little as he realised that he was neither lying down nor sitting, but instead was in a half and half position that only meant one thing. A hospital bed. He was in hospital. Why the hell was he in hospital?
He'd been in Freed's home. He'd laid himself bare. He'd kissed him.
Then the house had collapsed around them, the bricks, tiles and timber that had been held up by runes alone crashing around them. Freed was unconscious in his arms, and Laxus had hunched over and taken the brunt of the battering, not wanting to let Freed be so much as grazed. The barrage had ended, silence had fallen, and Laxus had blacked out.
Now, he was in Magnolia's hospital. An actual hospital, not the comparatively ill-equipped med bay in Fairy Tail. A magical doctor was leaning over him, face content and a relieved flicker in his eyes.
"Mister Dreyar," the doctor said congenially. "Nice to see you awake at last."
At last? How long had he been out? "Where's Freed?"
"Mr Justine is being tended to currently," the doctor said, and Laxus sniffed out the half truth before he'd even finished speaking. Maybe he knew, because he didn't give Laxus the chance to interrupt. "You've been placed in a medically induced coma for the past two weeks, Mister Dreyar. By first impressions you seem to be coming out of it wonderfully, but I do need to do my tests to make sure, so please comply with me for the moment, for your own good if nothing else."
Woozy and confused, Laxus did as he was told. The doctor pottered around him, prodding him and casting spells on him, making him move to random positions so he could test his reflexes, manoeuvrability and magical capabilities.
He explained that the medical coma was a necessity after Laxus apparent mistreatment of himself. His magical energy burnout had been made a hell of a lot worse after Laxus' spell casting to get Freed out, and that combined with the upper floor of Freed's house falling in on him, and how his body hadn't recovered yet from his lack of eating had all put him on the brink. They'd needed him to rest, recover, and rejuvenate without even the chance of him doing anything against doctor's orders. So, a coma it was.
"You look pretty good. We're going to need you to stick around for an hour or so under observation, just to be sure there's nothing we missed," the doctor walked back from the bed, dispelling his magic. "Your friends are outside, I'll let them know they can see you."
Laxus nodded, momentarily mollified, until he looked around the little private room that he'd been set up with. The small bedside cabinet had a small bouquet of flowers that must have been from Ever's little window box she tended to in her room, and one of Bix's babies was doing an admirable job at pretending to be still so that it wouldn't be caught out as his little spy, Resting against it, though, was Freed's sword.
Now that Freed was awake, and himself, he should have the sword with him. It was his most prized possession. The most important thing he'd ever owned, and he never let it out of his sight if he could help it. So, why did he not have it now?
The door to the suite opened, and Ever came in and beelined towards him with her arms open. Bix was quick to follow, and he was pulled into a big hug by both of them, Bickslow's babies circling around them and occasionally nuzzling into Laxus' face. Laxus returned their hug – tighter than he'd hugged anyone else before, he thought – but his eyes stayed on the door. The door that didn't open.
Where was Freed? What had the doctor said? What did 'being tended to' mean?
Bix and Ever pulled back, and must have caught Laxus looking at the space Freed should be, because they shared a worried little glance. Laxus felt himself tense slightly, and asked, "Where is he?"
"Don't get mad," Bix started off, and Laxus found himself getting mad.
"What?" He demanded.
"Laxus, he's…" Ever sat on the edge of the hospital bed and took him by the hand, squeezing it firmly. Why was she being kind? What the hell had happened? "Freed was taken into custody. He's been there since you got him out."
Custody? Jail!
What the hell had happened to this fucking town since Laxus had left? Surely, nobody with even a scrap of fucking intelligence could honestly think that Freed had some kind of nefarious plan behind everything. Not at this point. Surely people didn't hate them so much that they didn't even get a scrap of good will.
Fuck, what if the town really did hate them that much? If they did, had Laxus abandoned the three of them to deal with a town's worth of scorn and vitriol on their own, when he was the one who had pushed them to take the town hostage.
He didn't dwell on the thought. Maybe that made him a coward or selfish, but he just couldn't.
"Why?" He demanded. "Which one. They need to let him out. I'll talk to the people who put him there and make sure they-"
"They're saying it's a precaution, not that he's actually gonna go to prison," Bickslow cut him off, and it was probably wise. Voicing the way that he would convince the judge, or jailor, or whoever it was, that Freed needed to be released wouldn't be smart. He wasn't in the most law-abiding mood right now.
Not after that kiss. Not after the truth of how good life could be being made clear to him, even for just a moment, only for the world to fuck it all up again.
"A precaution against what?"
"Apparently, whatever you said to him in there got rid of the magic entirely, but they seem to think he still has his demon form," Ever sighed. "They don't know if the demon has changed and can still take Freed over or do… something that Freed can't stop."
It was fucked, but probably smart. Laxus didn't want Freed in danger from the demon. "And they have to lock him up? That was the best plan they came up with?"
"Magnolia Jail has some of the best magic cancelling spells in the country. The demon is magic, so it'll be stopped by the spells like anything else," Bickslow said, sounded as dejected as Laxus was starting to feel. "The fact that they're getting pretty good PR on this, boasting about locking up the dangerous cultist, is probably just the cherry on top."
"That's not what they're saying," Ever corrected, then sighed. "But they aren't denying it when people bring it up."
"This is so fucked up," Laxus growled. "Takin' him from one cage to another because they're too fucking stupid to figure out a way to fix anything."
"The guild's on Freed's side now, and are coming up with new appeals to get him out every day," Bickslow said, sounding like he barely believed his own light-side view on the situation. "And we can visit him during visiting hours. He seems to be doin' pretty good. Keeps asking how you're doing."
"We can see him?" Laxus' head shot up. "When are visiting hours?"
"From four till five in the afternoon," Evergreen glanced at the wall clock. "So, they start in about twenty minutes."
So, if they left now, they'd be able to get there with about ten minutes to spare. Not that Laxus could leave with the doctor's order for him to stay for observation. For an hour or two. The perfect amount of time to make sure Laxus missed out on the visiting hours. The doctor had rushed out pretty quickly after he'd said it, and Laxus hadn't realised what a weirdly short amount of time he'd be under observation.
The fuckers were trying to keep Laxus away from Freed, and Laxus was done with that. Years of holding himself back, months of being alone in exile, and days of being separated by runes and demons had been enough.
Laxus pushed himself off the bed, and found himself in possession of much more strength than he'd had since arriving back in Magnolia. He stood up straight, hooked Freed's sword in his belt, and walked out of the suite. Bix and Ever followed him, not needing to ask where they were going.
He would get to Freed, no matter who tried to stop him. Now, more than ever, he knew this was an irrefutable truth of his life.
—
Eyes closed, Freed lowered his body down so that his nose nearly brushed the cool stone of his cell. His shoulders ached and arms burned as he pushed himself up, still not having shaken off the effects of his previous imprisonment. But the exercise was good. Movement was good.
When he'd been setting everything up, he hadn't realised how much he moved before.
But that was the past, and he was rather firm in his decision to put it behind him. Push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups and burpees were his present, and he would keep his mind occupied on the task at hand. He would burn through the phantom stillness of his bone's one way or another, and for as long as he was trapped in this cell, he would have to rely on the basics of his regular workout.
With a jerk, he brought his knees up to his chest, hopped into a crouching position, before jumping up to stretch out his legs. He was back on the ground a moment later, nose near the ground and breath coming out in quick bursts.
It felt good to feel the pain of exercise again. It felt good to feel anything again.
The presence of monstrous thoughts still remained, but now it existed in its own absence. The demon had been with him since his childhood, and had never been one to shut up. Since it's little tantrum – that's what Freed was deciding to refer to the situation as – it had gotten louder and louder. But now, in this cell which decimated magical particles, the demon was forced into silence.
But it was still there, and it needed to be tended to. That was why Freed had found contentment in his cell. It was smart of the town to keep him here. They were, as a collective, overdue a smart idea.
Those thoughts belonged to the past, and to the future. The present was his to focus on now, and his present was exercise.
And thunder.
The roiling boom of thunder burned across the sky above the jail, and Freed felt lightning crawling up his skin. Sharp and nasty and intoxicating. It threw his mind back to two weeks prior, when strong hands had held him close, and chapped lips had kissed him back to life. A kiss so resplendent and enthralling and needed that, out of everything Freed had been trying to push to the back of his mind, the kiss was the only thing he failed to bury.
He shouldn't indulge in the memory. Not with Laxus thinking this had been Freed's plan. That wouldn't be right.
But this wasn't a memory. The lightning that skittered and danced over the walls and floors around Freed were real, and current, and alive. Freed let them burn away at him, the sensation of magic hurting and healing all at once. The magic was powerful, needy, and impatient.
Freed stood slowly, letting the lightning overtake him as he cricked his neck. He shook out his arms and let the lightning sink into his skin. It settled in his nerves like it belonged there, and Freed had often thought it had. It was eveything he needed in the moment, and eveything he had wanted when wrapped in his runes.
In the seemingly infinite moments where he could do nothing but watch with unblinking, dry eyes, he had wanted nothing more to feel. To have Laxus storm in, batter him with lightning, and teach him what it meant to feel again. Like he had the time they met.
His dragon was here. Awake, determined, and coming to claim Freed come hell or high water.
Summary: When magic flares and runes are written, Freed is found in his home, wrapped up and trapped in his own magic. He’s partially transformed, his soul is rotting, and his eyes are dead. He’s left behind a puzzle of traps and a summons for the exiled Laxus Dreyar. A summons that, by all interpretations, would make Laxus his executioner.
Laxus refuses to kill the man he cares for more than anyone else. But with an untrusting guild, a mystery that seemed hell bent on not being solved, and the threat of slaughter ever looming, can Laxus do anything to save the man he loves before he must kill him with his own hands?
Notes: Hi, this one has a villain saying homophobic things and being ignored. Read with care.
Link: Ao3, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter
Chapter Eleven – Awoken
People were yelling at Laxus from all angles. Demanding to know what he was doing. Wanting to know what had happened. Begging him to take a moment to think, and not do anything too hasty. He didn't listen to any of them, and kept on walking towards Freed, knowing exactly what he needed to do to save Freed's life.
He needed to be honest.
He needed to be vulnerable.
He needed to be himself.
Resting his weight on the cane, he pushed forward. His body seemed to be screaming at him to stop as much as the guild were, but he ignored that too. His hand was grasped tight on Freed's sword, which was still tucked in his belt. He felt Freed's runes buzzing, forcing honesty but not admission.
That was fine. What he was going to say now wasn't something that needed to be forced out of him. Not something that would be said through demand. It was just something that needed to be said. Something that would free them both.
"Laxus, you cannot go there after what just happened," Makarov stood in his way, stretching his body so that Laxus could not simply walk past him. "We still don't know what he did to you in there. You just collapsed and they dragged you out. They couldn't even gag him again; we didn't have the time. Not to mention you don't have your magic back yet. What happens if you need to defend yourself, or if you need to get out."
"I won't," Laxus assured him.
"Look, man," Bickslow tried, grabbing Laxus by the arm to try and stop him. Laxus shook it off. "Obviously, I want him out of there as much as you, but you're bein' all erratic and twitchy and not explaining yourself. Can't you give it, like, an hour just to think about it."
"I'm not letting him stay like that when I know I can get him out!"
"Laxus, I know," Evergreen went next, cupping him by the back of the neck and holding him steady. "I don't know what he showed you, but the fact you're acting like this… it's like he got in your head," she put a finger up to stop him from contradicting him. "That's all he was trying to do in there, right? You said it yourself. Trying to make us second guess ourselves, or get angry and less inclined to help him, or just make Freed feel bad about himself, right? What if whatever he showed you is more of that."
"Yeah, obviously," Laxus snapped. "But that doesn't mean I ain't smarter than some demon. And it definitely doesn't mean Freed ain't smarter than it."
"So what?" Makarov demanded.
"So Freed ain't being as passive as you all wanna make him look," Laxus growled. "He didn't set this up just so I can kill him. He could've done that himself without any of this shit. He set this up because he thought there's a chance of us savin' him, and he's been pulling strings as best he can. Savin' his soul, summoning me, giving me a goddamn truth spell! Any of that seem like the actions of a man who's given up and waiting to die? Really?"
The three of them looked at each other, and Laxus didn't care enough to figure out what those looks meant.
Maybe they thought he was deluded.
Maybe they'd already written Freed off more than they were letting on.
Maybe they wanted to help and wanted to believe him but they just couldn't do it.
None of that mattered, because none of them knew Freed in the way Laxus did. He and Freed, they were different. They were born out of a nasty fight filled with demands, respect, and low blows that belied that respect. They roiled in their worse qualities while taking umbrage with their betters. They spoke without words, knew without asking, and loved without saying. They were a pair joined by what wasn't said, but what had always been known.
But if it was only known to the two of them – if nobody else had been able to see it and know the truth of the two of them – then Laxus had to act accordingly. Laxus was alone, and would be alone until Freed was returned to him. And Freed would be returned to him.
He gathered at the limp wisps and spores of his barely yet recovered magic, let them dance across his skin and envelop him into their agonising sting. He roared and screamed as his body objected to such a spell when his magic reserves were empty. He shot forward, his body a stream of lightning that flickered and danced upwards, shooting over the heads of the mages and the knights that were keeping him from Freed. He landed on the cracked stone outside of Freed's front door and limped in before anyone could stop him.
He stepped inside.
Stepped again.
The door slammed shut behind him.
All sound was muffled, and they were alone.
Just Laxus, Freed, and the demon.
"You're back," The demon mused in an almost seductive tone. "I assume you want to beat the little queer for imposing his degeneracy on your image. I could pretend to be him if it makes it all the more satisfying for you."
"Will you just drop the whole macho baitin' homophobe crap for five minutes," he grasped the sword, making it obvious. Both Freed and the demon would know that, from now on, he would be speaking nothing but his own, wilful truth. "We all know all it'd take is for him to click his fingers and I'd suck his cock, and I'm fuckin' sick of pretending otherwise," Laxus walked forward. "Now, I ain't here to talk to some asshat little demon who only really exists 'cause of some magic gone wrong. I'm here to speak to my friend. So shut up."
"Oh, well, you've convinced me," the demon laughed. "I'll be perfectly compliant now that I know you're here for-"
Laxus shut him up, slamming his fist hard into Freed's face, catching him on the chin with enough force to be just shy of dislocating his jaw. There was a moment where Freed grinned – a grin that was well worn and far too familiar to be the demon – before it was shucked away by a weakness that Freed would never let known. Freed would bluster through a punch to the face. The demon, though, didn't.
"Yeah, I thought so," Laxus grinned. "You're basically a concept, right. But now you're real, and you're using Freed's body, and I bet it all feels a little too much. So let me tell ya about a little saying we mages have. Nothing hurts more than a punch to the face. Nothing except the next one. So, again, shut up and let me talk to him."
The demon's breath shuddered. "You'll be hurting him, too."
"He can take it. You can't," Laxus clenched his fist again, and a small, weak scatter of lightning illuminated his knuckles. "Want me to prove it, fuck nuts?"
The demon scowled, but was cowed. "He's not here anymore."
"Yeah, he is," Laxus was sure of that. Only Freed would have worn that smirk after getting a punch to the face, and nobody could emulate his restrained but boastful ego at being beaten down. "So, here's what I'm thinkin'. You summoned me here, when anyone could've been the one to kill ya. You knew you left those notes that hinted at emotions being the key to breaking the spell. And you left me a sword that means anything I say when I'm holding it is honest. I'm thinkin' you know me better than I've known myself. I think you've been waiting for me for way too goddamn long. And I think it's time for both of us to start bein' ourselves again."
Laxus rolled back his shoulders. He looked Freed in the eyes, and felt Freed looking back at him. Those eyes held hope again. That was Freed. He was still there. Laxus took a breath, and confessed to the bedrock of who he was.
"Freed, I fell for you the moment you slammed my head into the ground the day we met."
Fuck. Fuck that felt good to say.
"I've been in love with you for years and didn't even realise it."
And how hadn't he realised it? How hadn't he realised the driving force for all his crap, and stupidity, and maturity was the man he was so close to losing?
"You've been pissing me off, and makin' me better, and turning me on for years now."
Everything he was went back to Freed. Everything he could be was Freed's victory to claim.
"You make me a good person. You make me think about things. You make me realise that I'm being a piece of shit, or that I'm being shortsighted, or that I'm fucking things up."
He took another step forward, getting closer to Freed.
The demon thrashed against the runic binds for the first time, and Laxus knew why. His man was winning, and the demon was losing.
"You make me feel warm, and safe, and like I have the space to make mistakes without it mattering."
Freed let out a shallow, low breath.
"You make me wanna put the effort into being better. Like there's a point to pushing passed my bullshit and thinking of others."
Laxus raised his hand to cup Freed's cheek, and Freed leant into it ever so slightly, his thrashing stopped.
"You make me hot for you. Make me want you. Make me want you so damn much I get stupid."
He sent a little spark of lightning through his hand and into Freed, and heard the quietest little purr of contentment.
"You make me a person. You make me a man. You make me who I want to be."
He leaned in close enough for him to feel Freed's breath on his own, lips so close they nearly touched.
"You make me alive, Freed. And you're not fuckin' leaving me now."
Finally, he kissed his man.
He leant into Freed entirely, pushing their bodies together and holding Freed to him. Freed's chapped and unused lips slid against Laxus' own, and Laxus was left in no doubt who was kissing him. His Freed, in his arms, respondent and himself again.
Laxus wrapped an arm around Freed's waist and pulled him flush against him, strong body against strong body. Everything he was too damn stupid to know how to say, he let it fuel the kiss. He let the unspoken truth of his feelings and their relationship and the love they shared stoke the fire of this kiss. Freed took control and Laxus relented to the power of it, body going lax and his soul screaming in overwhelmed contentment.
This was right. This was destiny. This was overdue and premature and perfect.
A hand laced into his hair, angling his head so Freed could better kiss him. Another hand hooked Laxus by the belt, disallowing Laxus from even attempting to separate their bodies. Not that Laxus would. Why would he ever want to?
Freed was strong, firm and sturdy against Laxus. He could take anything, but he wouldn't have to. Laxus would never do anything that would need to be endured by Freed. Freed would be worshipped and adored and respected. Laxus would not be able to do anything else but treat his man like a prince. A king. A god.
It was funny. Freed had been the one to title Laxus as the thunder god, but Laxus felt like the lowliest of acolytes, happy to worship and splendour in his shadow.
But Freed was kissing him, and Laxus may be love struck, but he wasn't stupid enough to stop.
He would stretch this moment out for eternity, if he could.
No moment could last forever, though. Freed jerked back with a sudden movement, his hand still holding Laxus close by the belt. He threw his head back, spine arching in a steep curve as he looked up. His eyes were blown wide and manic, smoke coming from them. He coughed and spluttered, inky black bile spilling out of him and raising into fog. It clouded up, filling the space and lashing out with intangible tendrils.
Maybe this was the demon. Maybe this was the magic. Laxus didn't know, nor did he care. He now knew what it felt like to have Freed in his arms, against his chest, and on his lips. Nothing would get in his way when the prize was so sweet.
With a last final burst of his magic, he roared. A barrelling tundra of dragon slaying power rose up through his throat, parted his lips, and slammed into the demonic fog starting to take form.
Laxus decimated it, using overwhelming magic that he should not have. It tried to flee, but Laxus wouldn't let it. His roar followed the demon, ripping it apart and turning it into nothing. He took what remained of the house with it, making sure there was not a chance that this demon could hurt Freed again. Freed was his to protect, his to serve, and his to love. Nothing would hurt him or take him from Laxus again.
His magic ran dry, and the demonic smog was gone. Freed coughed a final time, body straight again and still in Laxus' arms. They looked at each other, and Laxus knew beyond doubt that Freed was himself, completely and totally.
"Hey," Laxus rasped.
"Hello again."
Freed smiled at him, and then his eyes rolled back and he fell limp in Laxus' arms. Laxus held him close, as the house on Hollow's lane collapsed into rubble.
Summary: When magic flares and runes are written, Freed is found in his home, wrapped up and trapped in his own magic. He’s partially transformed, his soul is rotting, and his eyes are dead. He’s left behind a puzzle of traps and a summons for the exiled Laxus Dreyar. A summons that, by all interpretations, would make Laxus his executioner.
Laxus refuses to kill the man he cares for more than anyone else. But with an untrusting guild, a mystery that seemed hell bent on not being solved, and the threat of slaughter ever looming, can Laxus do anything to save the man he loves before he must kill him with his own hands?
Notes: Hi, this one has sexual expression and content between two men, and a villain character who tries to weaponise that and treat it as a bad thing, so read with caution.
Link: Ao3, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter
Chapter Ten: Enlightenment
It took Laxus a moment to realise what was happening. Somehow, he was both in his own body and watching from afar. He could both feel the heavy crush of the rain battering at him, while also seeing how it dampened his face and mingled with the blood dripping from his nose.
This was a memory, one he was both experiencing, and watching.
And of all the memories to relive, it would have to be this one.
"I was sort of looking forward to this," he heard himself snark as he paced back and forth. "But this was so fuckin' disappointing."
He had his arms crossed, and cracked his back just because he thought it made him look tough. He must have been eighteen back then, on the cusp of letting every bad thought he felt overtake him. He was an asshole – nobody would deny that – but it took the form of bravado and not pulling his punches when he was in a fight. He wasn't quite the man who wanted to overthrow the guild, but he was getting there.
And then, there was the man at Laxus' feet. Boy, really. Freed had to be fifteen, maybe sixteen when they met. He was bruised, battered and bloody; a true testament to Laxus' unwillingness to hold back.
God, he really had been young, hadn't he? His cheekbones hadn't really set in, and he still had a spec of fear in his eyes that he never would have let shown in his later years. He was skinny, too, which made sense. Freed was a runaway son of a noble and had been on the streets for years at that point, and was constantly backed into a corner. Laxus hadn't noticed it then, but now it was obvious.
"A mission tells me all about someone trapping randoms into magic boxes, and fucking with them until they win some stupid game to get out. Sounds fun, right? But then I find out you're a little kid," Laxus continued speaking, ready for a damn monologue. Did he used to monologue? Fuck. "But that's fine. You don't avoid a beatin' just because you're a kid. But then I take you down in like, what, two minutes. That's embarrassing. And boring. You're fucking boring."
Freed didn't say anything, and Laxus didn't stop pacing. He remembered what was going to happen next, and the part of his brain that was watching from the sidelines saw it happen. Runes coiled up his leg, not yet touching but prepared to. Freed was luring him into a false sense of security – asshole – and was just waiting to trap him. And sure enough, Laxus was waiting to walk into it.
"I have you where I want you," Freed claimed, and Laxus remembered exactly how funny that had been, because all things considered Freed was fucked.
"You think? Really?" Laxus laughed, leaning on the wall of the alleyway and placing his hands behind his head. Weaponised nonchalance was another weapon his younger self had used regularly. "And what d'ya want, exactly? Actually, nah, don't tell me. Let's make a deal. If you get one hit – even one – on me, I'll give you whatever you want."
God, he had been an idiot. Freed's phrasing really had led him into the trap, hadn't it?
Just as he remembered, the runes coiled tight around his legs, pushing hard into the back of his knee and taking him down to the ground. Momentarily taken aback, Laxus left himself open for Freed to reach forward, grab Laxus' hair, and slam him hard into the ground. His nose, already well on its way to being broken, crunched on impact and he roared out his anger.
"What I want," Freed said, pushing Laxus' head down into his broken nose. "Is to join your guild."
"Not fucking happening," Laxus yelled, but he could now admit it was more of a loud whimper than the roar he intended.
"Then you're not a man of your word. Perhaps not a man at all," he pushed, and Laxus almost wanted to laugh at the open manipulation Freed was showing that he somehow missed in the moment. "That's not a shock."
Laxus felt hot anger well in him, and pushed himself up. "I'm more fuckin' man than you. I'll get you in. But I'm keepin' an eye on you. You're gonna tell people you're my bodyguard or some crap, and you can deal with the pricks who ain't worth my time."
"Those are… agreeable terms," Freed nodded.
"It's that or nothin'," Laxus snapped. "But if that's what we're doin', then I gotta be sure you're fucking strong enough to take on my name."
And, just as he remembered, Laxus all but pounced on Freed to give him one of the most needlessly brutal beatdowns he had ever given. Freed had given as good as he got, and they both ended up in the town's hospital nursing a combines seven broken bones, more bruised skin than unbruised, and Freed dealing with internal bleeding.
But he didn't get that far. The memory juddered to a halt, and suddenly he wasn't seeing it from his perspective, but Freed's. It was a still image, of Laxus straddling Freed to pin him down, a lightning covered fist half way towards Freed's face. Laxus' face was a wreck, marred by both the snarl and the flowing blood, and he should look animalistic and cruel and monstrous.
A foreign emotion struck him. Freed's emotion, somehow. A heat, and desire, and somehow, a feeling of safety. More than anything, though, was hope.
This beating was one of the things Laxus truly regretted, and yet Freed felt like this? What the hell was wrong with him?
Before the question could settle, the world blurred.
—
'He lusts for you, and he always has.'
—
"I know you're better than that," Laxus snapped, another memory forming both in front of him and around him. This was years after the previous. "If you're gonna be representing me, then you have to be stronger than this."
Freed gave him a nasty looking glare, but his pace increased nonetheless. He tossed himself on the pull up bar again, arms shaking but determination obvious on his face. His muscles flexed and heaved with the movement, stomach and chest practically glowing with a sheen of sweat. If Laxus remembered correctly, Freed had ditched his shirt twenty minutes into their session, and maybe Laxus had baited him into it under the guise of taunting him about his physique.
Looking back… what the hell had he been thinking? That had been transparent as hell.
But they were tipsy by then. It was just the two of them – this was perhaps a month before Bix and Ever had joined the guild – and they spent most of their time together on a normal day. So Freed's eighteenth birthday was of course a day they spent alone.
Laxus had gotten him two gifts. A six pack of beer, and a promise he would stop treating Freed 'like a pussy'.
Again, Laxus had to cringe.
Now that Freed was an adult, Laxus had decided that he needed to be trained within an inch of his life. He wanted Freed to be a soldier forged in his own image. He needed to be stronger, fitter, and more magically powerful than he had been as a kid. They'd drank together, and at random Laxus had proclaimed he needed to know the extents of Freed's physical fitness, so he knew how crappy a lump of clay the man was.
In reality, he was tipsy, horny, angry at the world, fucked in the head, and trying desperately to ignore the complicated feelings that came with Freed becoming a man and, in some important ways, fair game. And his dumbass twenty-year-old self had decided making Freed flushed and sweaty would be the perfect way to fix everything.
How he didn't see what he was doing was genuinely embarrassing.
"That's it," Freed said over a pant, lowering himself from the pull up bar between his kitchen and living room. His house was small and crappy, but he'd decided to buy rather than rent, and this shithole in Hollow's Street was all he could afford. "I'm done."
"Twenty," Laxus scoffed, sipping his beer. "Pathetic."
"After the workout you've insisted on, it's perfectly respectable," Freed argued, picking up a towel from the counter and rubbing it over his chest. His taut, pronounced chest. His stomach was contracting with every breath and-
Laxus pulled his eyes away. "I could do fifty."
"By all means," Freed gestured at him. "Prove your superiority."
"That's like sayin' prove that gravity's real. Fuckin' obvious."
Freed laughed that laugh he always did when Laxus said something like that. Indulgent. Amused. Like Laxus was making a joke with him. "If so, then prove it. I believe it was thirty burpees, twenty pushups, twenty bicep curls on each arm with your regular weight, twenty lengths of the garden in a full sprint, and then the pull-ups."
He was smirking as he listed it all off, Laxus only realised now. Litigious asshole. And he was pretty sure Freed doubled the amounts of burpees without Laxus realising at the time.
Ass.
"Easy," Laxus said, shrugging off his shirt – Freed had ditched his, so this made it even – and moving Freed out of the way. "You might wanna take a step back. I'm a hell of a lot bigger than you. Don't wanna graze you and put you on your ass."
"God forbid," Freed snarked, taking a step back. "And you're doing this in nothing but leather pants, then?"
"I walk in them, fight in them, do missions in them," Laxus shrugged, knocking away the coffee table with his foot to make space for the burpees. "You think I can't work out in them? Besides, not like I have a change of clothes here. Unless you want me to do it in my boxers or somethin?"
"I'll leave that up to you," Freed laughed, and Laxus felt a stupid, awful, ridiculous swell of pride that Freed hadn't outright told him not to take off more of his clothes,
Rather than letting the implication of that thought hit him fully, Laxus let the memory of his muscles burning and blood pumping take over. Burpees, push-ups, bicep curls and sprinting overtook him, and not once did he realise how Freed was watching him. Firm, unflinching, and tracking. He didn't look away. His gaze wandered from his chest to his abs, to his legs, to his face. All over, and Laxus was too busy winning a pissing contest to see it.
Again, the memory juddered to a stop. It was the moment he dropped himself down from the pull-up bar. He had done his fifty pull-ups, but it had taken him to his knees to recover. He was sweaty, panting, and exhausted.
He saw himself from Freed's eyes again. Freed was looking down at him, and Laxus looking up right back. His own eyes were half lidded, lips plump, and face flushed.
This time, there was only one thing that Freed was feeling. Power. Freed felt power over Laxus, and it made him hot and ready.
—
'He sees your body as his to enjoy. To watch. To take into the degeneracy of his own mind.'
—
The next memory was not one of his own, and his throat dried and mind whirred.
It was Freed. Alone. Showering.
It was as if Laxus was leaning against the wall of Freed's bathroom, looking at him and unable to look away. The side of the shower cubicle was covered in steam, but Laxus could see through it anyway. He could see every inch of Freed from behind. His strong back, his tapered waist, his long legs, his plumply firm ass.
He could see Freed throw his head back, a stuttering breath loud enough to overwhelm the pattering of water on tile. Freed whispered out a curse, back arching slightly. His neck was bare and visible, throat so tempting that Laxus ground his teeth as if that could ever be as good as biting and marking Freed.
Then he saw it. The pumping of Freed's fist, the jutting of his hips, the twitching of his muscles.
Freed was jerking off, and Laxus was his voyeur. Laxus couldn't look away, and wasn't sure if he would. He was frozen, watching as Freed's thrusting turned to rhythmic gyrations. His arm flexed and his ass tensed, and he slammed one hand onto the tiled wall for balance as he sped up. He was fucking his fist but with a speed and motion that sang of perfected movement. Could a man fuck and make love to his own hand all at once?
"Take it," Freed gasped, his words weak and slurred. "You will take every inch of it."
Laxus felt his blood burn and his cock plumping at the control that seeped into Freed's tone. His back straightened and he swallowed down a lump, throat suddenly dry. His knees buzzed as unexpected desire hit him. The desire to fall to his knees. To relish urges he had never truly allowed himself to think of. To take it.
"Fuck!" Freed snapped. His stance widened slightly, his hand turned to a fist and slammed against the tiles again, and his voice turned to a snarl. "Fucking swallow it. Do as you're told and swallow it, Laxus. Every fucking drop."
Laxus felt a moan slip from his lips, eyes blown wide as he saw a spurt of cum hit the back wall of the shower. More must have followed, though not with the same strength, and Laxus could only watch form behind as Freed fucked his fist into completion. Fuck, his body was flawless. Strong and tight and tapered to perfection.
What would it be like to look upon it from his knees?
The memory juddered and changed, and yet again Laxus was seeing from Freed's eyes. This time, he saw the fantasy Freed must have been indulging in. He saw himself, on his knees, lips stretched over a fat cock and eyes glowing with so much needy contentment that it knocked him.
Would that be possible for him? Would that be all it would take? To drop to his knees, do as he was told, and suck his man? And with that would come a quietness of his mind, and a rightness of his soul.
Because the version of himself before him – the version that Freed wished him to be – was right where he needed to be. Who he needed to be. Who he was destined to be.
—
'He sees himself as your better. Your master. He drags you into his fantasies and dirties your name through association alone.'
—
The next memory, when he realised what it was, had his stomach plummeting. He both watched and felt it as he walked away, with nothing but a rucksack slung over his shoulder and a swirling eddy of guilt and regret. He was leaving the guild, having fucked up everything in his life, unsure if he was ever going to come back or if he'd ever see the people that he cared for again.
Freed hadn't seen him off. They thought that was for the best, but he'd always wondered if Freed had watched him go.
Turns out, he had.
The little asshole must have perfected an invisibility rune and not told Laxus, because he was walking beside him. Laxus could see him now, but couldn't then. He'd always wondered why he had smelled him so clearly, and assumed that it was a trick of the senses. But no, Freed had walked with him. Walked and walked and walked.
They walked together for miles, not that Laxus knew he wasn't alone. Freed kept looking at him. His smile was sad, but he was smiling. Freed had been the one to convince him to go quietly, but apparently didn't want him to leave on his own.
Eventually, Freed stopped walking. He stalled, but kept watching. Laxus felt himself getting further and further from Freed, and it was like he was losing heat and entering a colder, lonelier world. A world he needed to endure. To earn his way back to Magnolia, and to Freed again,
But Freed kept watching.
And Laxus felt what Freed did in that moment. Sad, and scared, and hopeful. Freed had hope for him in that moment, and Laxus had never known it. Even then, his ego told him he was alone in the world, but Freed was beside him even still.
And, Laxus realised, Freed thought him beautiful. Utterly, overwhelmingly, totally beautiful.
Nobody would dare think Laxus beautiful other than Freed.
And, ridiculously, Laxus might agree.
—
'Even in your lowest moment, he persists in degrading you with his lust. His obsession is never ending. He ruins you, and dreams of decimating you entirely.'
—
This was not a memory. This was a fantasy. Freed's fantasy.
Laxus fucked into Freed brutally, sparing none of his strength. Their bodies were pressed together as best they could, and Laxus all but attacked Freed's beautiful neck with biting and sucking and kissing. They were chest to chest, Freed's legs wrapped around Laxus' waist, pulling him closer as Laxus pounded into him.
Freed's hands were tangled in Laxus' hair, pulling and directing him. Freed was in charge here, and they both knew it. The fucking was for Freed's pleasure, and Laxus was entirely secondary.
This was right.
This was serenity.
This was where Laxus was meant to be.
Under Freed's thumb. Deferring to his whims and wants. Fucking his man like they were always meant to be.
There would be no greater pleasure than this. They could be nothing better than this. Wrapped around Freed in their own bed, kissing and screwing the man he loved. His sole focus being Freed's pleasure, and Freed's cock, and Freed's needs. Freed was the only man to ever quieten Laxus mind, and this was the best way to do it.
The push of his cock as he buried it deep inside Freed's ass was perfection. This was a well worn dance by now. They'd fucked hundreds of times, and Laxus knew how to bring his man the pleasure he wanted. Freed deserved the world. He deserved everything. He deserved to be loved, and tormented, and adored, and ruined, and saved. Laxus was the only person who could do it.
Laxus was destined to be Freed's. And while the demon may be showing him these to disgust him, or to appeal to the part of Laxus that denied himself his sexuality, but it had failed.
It had shown Laxus a life he was promised, and owed. A life Laxus had always known of but had never been given.
And Freed was a genius, and stubborn as an ox. He had summoned Laxus, and given him a sword that forced him to tell the truth, and knew Laxus better than himself. He knew Laxus would come, knew Laxus would never let him go, and knew Laxus would get over his bullshit and drop to his knees when he did. Freed had known Laxus better than Laxus himself ever could, and had created a puzzle box to save himself with Laxus as the final cog.
Truth, vulnerability, and emotion. What would save Freed was what Laxus had always been too scared to do.
He needed to be himself.
To own who he was.
To speak the truth and bare his soul.
To save both Freed, and himself, with a single, undeniable truth.
"There you are," Freed whispered, and Laxus looked down at him. This was Freed. Not a fantasy, not a demon's manipulation. Freed, the real Freed, was here.
"You're still here," Laxus whispered.
"Just about," Freed smiled, and he moved a hand to cup Laxus' cheek. "I'm sorry I put this on you. I'm sorry you have to do this-"
"I will save you," Laxus promised. "Every fucking time. Never doubt that."
Freed smiled at him. "I know. I've always known," Freed whispered. "Then I think it's time you wake up."
Laxus felt Freed grab him by the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. A kiss that never connected.
—
Laxus woke with a gasp.
"I know how to get him out," he gasped, throat raw and aching. "I need to see him. Now."
Summary: When magic flares and runes are written, Freed is found in his home, wrapped up and trapped in his own magic. He’s partially transformed, his soul is rotting, and his eyes are dead. He’s left behind a puzzle of traps and a summons for the exiled Laxus Dreyar. A summons that, by all interpretations, would make Laxus his executioner.
Laxus refuses to kill the man he cares for more than anyone else. But with an untrusting guild, a mystery that seemed hell bent on not being solved, and the threat of slaughter ever looming, can Laxus do anything to save the man he loves before he must kill him with his own hands?
Notes: Hi, this one has a villain character sex shaming and saying misogynistic and homophobic things in effort to hurt people, so read with caution.
Link: Ao3, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter
Chapter Nine: Cruelty
Feeling a little guilty, Mirajane gave both Laxus and Evergreen a small shake of the shoulder to wake them up. They'd all fallen asleep cuddled up in the same bed in the med bay, empty bowls of ice cream, mugs that were half filled with cocoa, and the crumbs of cookies decorating the little table all med bay beds had. They looked sweet, all huddled together under a blanket, but time was moving and they wouldn't forgive her for not waking them up.
"Mira?" Laxus said, voice croaky as he blinked his eyes open, staring at her disbelievingly. He looked around, seemed to remember where he was, and sat up. "What is it?"
"You and Ever need to be up and ready in an hour," she said, addressing it to all three of them as they all woke. "They're letting the two of you in Freed's house to try and speak with him."
There was a lagging moment when it took them a second to process it, and then they were all speaking over each other at her. She understood it. When Makarov, upon seeing her come into the guild for her morning shift, had told Mira that he had arranged for the two of them, as well as Levy, to actually go into Freed's house, she hadn't been sure she heard it right. It was a total heel turn, though one she was grateful for, and she wasn't going to push hard in asking what had made him change his mind. She had simply nodded and got to work preparing everything that had needed to be done.
She put her hands up to stop the three of them talking at her, her face calm and hopefully setting the tone for them all. "You have an hour to get to his house. Eat, wash and prepare yourself. And, between the four of us, focus on getting in there rather than questioning why you're allowed. Don't make anyone second guess their decision."
Laxus and Evergreen took a moment, before nodding.
"There are meals waiting for you on the counter, and you can use the showers in the guild. Lucy brought some clothes from your room, Evergreen, and Laxus I assume that rucksack you've been carrying around has something for you to wear. I'd get to it. I don't know how tenuous this agreement is so don't push your luck."
Laxus and Ever were quick to move, leaving Mirajane with an obviously unhappy Bickslow. "Why can't I go?"
"They want you to stay here."
"Seriously?" Bickslow snapped. "Do they really think I'm involved in this still, or that I'm-"
"When you looked into Freed's soul, some of the particles got inside of you," Mirajane explained, fussing with the blanket to cover Bickslow better. "We think they've all been removed and that there's nothing happening anymore, but they're not going to let you anywhere near the house. Not when there's still a chance some dormant magic might flare up inside of you."
"They think I've got some magical plague?" Bickslow scoffed. "This is stupid."
"I know. But, if we can prove that a person can be touched by the magic and have no adverse effects, then the council will be more likely to see Freed as a cause worth fighting for," she smiled sadly, knowing that it was hollow comfort for him. "If it makes you feel any better, they won't let me close to him either, anymore. Or Elfman."
Bickslow frowned. "Why?"
"Takeover magic. If it messed with Freed the way we think it did, then it might do the same with my demon or Elfman's beast. Obviously, I didn't know Freed like you did, but it's not just you being messed around with this."
"I guess," Bickslow sighed. "But I should be there!"
"I know," Mira glanced over her shoulder to check the room was empty. It was. "Well, Lucy's been allowed to watch, since she's been the one researching the type of magic this is. She said she'd start a video call for me before it all starts, so we could watch what's happening at least."
Rather than answering, Bickslow lurched up and pulled her into a hug so tight that it quite literally took her breath away, and in that moment, she realised just how scared Bickslow must be feeling for his friends.
Whatever had caused Makarov to change his mind, it hadn't come a moment too soon.
——
Laxus stood outside of Freed's glowing, pulsing home, bracketed by Evergreen and Levy.
They were practically surrounded by runic knights from all angles. Laki had created a further round of wooden barricades on the risk of something going wrong, which were further fortified by a tanging of Droy's plants. Jet was on standby for extraction, under the orders he should get the three of them out of the house the moment anything seemed to go awry. The bastard dark mage Laxus still half wanted to kill was held at the end of three of the rune knight's spears, bravado dropped entirely.
Makarov, who had decidedly ignored both Laxus' demand and Levy's request to know what had caused the change of mind, paced in front of the three of them. He was unsure about if this was a good idea, obviously, so Laxus didn't push it.
"Talk me through exactly what you're going to do," he ordered again.
"We walk in, and I'll identify the rune that seems to be gagging him," Levy began, having decided herself the least antagonistic of the group. Laxus didn't argue that. He was pissed off at his grandfather for reasons that long predated this, and Ever was on the brink of a breakdown even if she wouldn't ever admit to it. "If the rune is individual and not connected to anything else, I'll dispel it from as far away as I can manage so we can speak with him."
"And if that works?" Makarov prompted as if they hadn't explained this many times already.
"We talk with him," Laxus said impatiently. "If he's bein' a dick, we can be pretty sure that our theory is right and fuck-shit over there," he nodded to the dark mage, who winced, "is to blame for this."
"And then you leave," Makarov ordered, eyes locked dead onto Laxus'. "The entire point of this is to find reasonable belief that Freed is infested with the Choice Modification magic. If we can do that, we can go to the Rune Knights and buy more time, as well as begin experimentation with how to reverse the magical effect. We will not get Freed out of there today, nor will we try to," he gave them all a hard stare. "Do you understand me?"
They all gave an affirmative, and Makarov pinned each of them with a long look before stepping back to speak with the knight in charge. When he was out of earshot, Evergreen leant towards Laxus and murmured, "We're ignoring the last part, of course?"
"Obviously," laxus agreed, before shooting a look at Levy. "That gonna be a problem?"
"No," she said simply. "From what Trell said, guilt seems to be the most accessible emotion for most people under his spell."
"Freed ain't most people," Laxus snapped, before cringing. "Sorry, but he's not. You've got a hell of a lot more hope making me feel guilty than that fucker. Not gonna work."
"Honest expressions of emotions aren't exactly Freed's forte," Ever added. "But that doesn't mean that we won't try it out."
There was nothing else worth saying for the moment, so they fell into silence. As Makarov spoke to the head knight, Erza, Natsu, Gajeel and Gray all took their places, ready to fight if the need arose. Lucy had a small folding table set up and was taking notes, her coms Lacrima positioned in a way that almost looked inconspicuous, pointed right at them so Mirajane and Bickslow could see.
Eventually, the head knight stepped back and Makarov nodded towards Laxus, though didn't look happy to do it. All the knights who weren't holding Trell in place pointed their spears towards the house, magic thrumming off them. Ready and waiting to attack if needed. To attack Freed.
After they shared a quick glance, Laxus, Ever and Levy walked into the house. They stepped over rubble and runes, with only the murmuring hum of magical energy to fill the silence. Being in a space that should feel so familiar, and yet was wrecked and ruined by a magical implosion, was sickening. But nothing felt more nauseating than the ever present feeling of Freed's eyes on Laxus. They struck him the moment he walked in, and would not deviate. Not to Ever, not to Levy. Just on Laxus.
Levy started casting quiet identification spells, wasting no time in trying to highlight the runes that were gagging Freed. Freed just looked at Laxus, and Laxus forced himself to look back.
There was nothing behind Freed's eyes. No life, no passion, no hope. Just haunting rigidity.
They would save Freed, Laxus reminded himself. They would do whatever they had to to get him out, and those eyes would be as bright and impassioned as they ever had been. This was a blip in Freed's story, something to overcome and look back on, and they just had to push through it now.
"I've got it," Levy said softly. "Easy to dispel, and it's only connected to one other rune that's stopping his head from being able to move. I think Freed was pretty good at cutting off interconnectivity when he cast them, so unless we're getting close enough for him to bite us or headbutt us, I think it's safe."
Laxus took a second. "Do it."
Using a pointer as a conduit, Levy reached forward and latched onto the rune, her eyes glowing as she murmured something. As she was dispelling the magic, Freed's eyes were still trained on Laxus. Laxus still held his gaze, a silent promise that he wasn't leaving him.
With a shimmer, one of the myriad runes fell. Freed's head fell forward with a jerk, and Laxus felt lightning spark over his skin at the suddenness of it. Ever put her hand on his back to steady him, and he leant back into it as Freed slowly rotated his head, cricking his neck, before looking up. They watched with bated breath as Freed slowly looked at them all, before again settling on Laxus.
"Your guild," Freed said, voice hoarse but definitely his own, "is incredibly fucking tedious."
"Definitely not him," Ever whispered, and Freed snapped his gaze onto her.
"Oh very well done, you've figured it out. Congratulation," Freed snarked, a nasty smile forming on his face. "I honestly think that might be the most intelligent thing you've ever done. You really should pat yourself on the back, if you can find time between all the other completely unfounded self aggrandising you do. You might think that a person with no real accomplishments to speak of in her entire life might give humbleness a try, and yet here you stand, Evergreen. Living proof that an ego does not require the truth to be fuelled."
"Don't speak to her-" Levy began, but Freed cut her off.
"You might also think that a guild with such a glowing track record of victory might understand basic spacial reasoning. Enough so that they might consider rehashing their little plan over and over again outside of earshot of the man they intend to use the aforementioned plan on," he rolled his head around again, bones clicking. "So let me hurry this up, since you've kept me waiting for so long. Your theory is correct. Well done. You must feel very proud of yourselves. You stumbled into the obvious conclusion. Start the parade," he looked back to Laxus. "Parades are a certain interest of yours, aren't they?"
Before Laxus could respond, Levy spoke. "So you are his demon persona mingled with Trell's magic."
"For goodness sake, do you really need it spelling out. Yes. I am the soul of the demon he bargained with intertwined with a magical compulsion that allowed me the use of my own will," Freed sighed. "I thought you would be the smart one. I suppose Mr Redfox fucked the brains out of you."
"Enough," Ever demanded.
"Still, what's the use of intelegence when you can have a cock stuffed into your throat? Especially a pierced one. You told me you quite enjoyed that revelation, didn't you?"
"I-I never-" Levy began, voice stumbling over her words.
"Three weeks, six days, fourteen hours, two minutes and seventeen seconds ago, you told me. Well, not me, of course. But anything Mr Justine knows, I also know," Freed grinned. "There are no secrets he holds that I never heard. And you, Miss McGarden, get very chatty when you're drunk. It was very entertaining. As was the effect that your little story telling session had on my host. He was quite fascinated by the potential of your lover. More than once he took his cock in hand to explore the thought of him taking your place. Though, he seems to think he'd be a more effective partner. Having been in his body for so long and now having seen you," he looked Levy up and down. "I agree with his assessment."
"Enough!" Laxus snapped both to end the slew of cruelty and to push past the revelation that Freed's interests might lie with men, and Freed looked at him. For just a moment, for a second so fleeting that Laxus might have dismissed it, he saw a flash of guilt in Freed's eyes.
"Mister Dreyar: star of the show and my own personal executioner," Freed drawled. "Have you gathered the balls to kill me yet?"
"It's not getting that far. We're gonna save him."
"It's funny you think he's even still in here. The last of him died when he pushed away your little soul-searching friend. Any longer, and I would have had him too. Saving his friend deflated all of Mister Justine's resources, I'm afraid. And I did have to take the chance to devour him. It's only natural, I'm sure you understand," he laughed, and it didn't sound like Freed's laugh at all. "He's gone. It's just me in here, now."
Laxus' heard nothing but the echoing taunt. Died. Devour. He's gone.
"This ends with you killing me, no matter what you do. The only variable in the scenario is, how many people will I get to before you stop me."
"Freed," Ever said, voice pleading. "I think you're still in there and I think you can get out, but you need to fight him-"
"He's really not, you know," Freed laughed. "Or maybe he is. I suppose you can't know. But if he is still there, then all you can conclude is that you're not worth it to fight for. A shame."
"I think we should leave," Levy suggested.
"Of course you do," Freed said, voice forced into an impression of glee. "Your conscience is clear now. The work has been done, and the death can follow. You never cared all that much, really. It was duty more than anything else. I'm sure his friends will understand how quick you were to jump ship, right?"
"That's not what I-"
"Just showed your hand, didn't you, fucker?" Laxus interrupted, with a feral grin. "Because that little comment wasn't for us, was it? You've been bating us, trying to get under our skin and make us sloppy. But if you're tellin' the truth about seeing and hearing everything Freed does, then you know that me and Ever are practical people. Ends justify the means kinda people. So, as long as Levy's helping out, we don't care about why she's doin' it. Guilt, duty, whatever. If she's helping out, that's good enough. And I'm pretty sure Levy here would keep helping just to spite you now, so I don't think you said any of that for our benefit."
"And what, pray, is the end point of this little diatribe?"
Laxus leant in. "That was for Freed, right? You wanted to make him sweat. Wonder what's happening. Maybe give up hope in the time it takes for us to come back. You wouldn't do that for no reason, and that tells me two things. That he's still in there, and that there's a way of getting him out."
Freed laughed. "The hope you have for him is charming. I'll enjoy using his vocal inflections to beg for mercy when you're killing me. The guilt will be consolation enough."
"Trust me, we're not getting that far," Laxus promised, then glanced down at Levy. "Can you gag him again? He's fuckin' annoying like this."
Levy started to whisper cast the gagging spell, moving her wand to write the magic. Freed kept looking at Laxus, and Laxus kept looking back. If there was even a moment of seeing Freed take over like he was sure he had before, then Laxus wasn't going to miss it.
"You don't know, do you?" Freed asked, voice taunting. "What he sees when he looks at you."
"Shut up."
"But you want to. You're desperate to know what he feels, aren't you? Especially now you know of his perversions. If he can lust after one brutish man, what's saving you from the repulsive indignity of being on his mind and on his lips as he strokes himself. Clarity would help, I think."
"I said shut up."
"You're smarter than I thought, Mister Dreyar, and intelegence deserves a reward. So why don't I show you exactly who you are to him. Maybe the truth will help with the guilt coming to you."
"Shut the fuck up."
"Dark Écriture," Freed whispered in a tauntingly singsong voice.
"Shit," Ever whispered, shoving Laxus towards the door.
"Why didn't you tell me he can cast without his sword?" Levy demanded.
Summary: When magic flares and runes are written, Freed is found in his home, wrapped up and trapped in his own magic. He’s partially transformed, his soul is rotting, and his eyes are dead. He’s left behind a puzzle of traps and a summons for the exiled Laxus Dreyar. A summons that, by all interpretations, would make Laxus his executioner.
Laxus refuses to kill the man he cares for more than anyone else. But with an untrusting guild, a mystery that seemed hell bent on not being solved, and the threat of slaughter ever looming, can Laxus do anything to save the man he loves before he must kill him with his own hands?
Notes: Hi again, this is a sweet one that I hope you enjoy as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, I’ve finished writing the fic, so would you all prefer I speed up the updates to twice a week or keep it as it is. Let me know.
Link: Ao3, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter
Chapter Eight: Raijinshuu
As much as she was desperate to see both of her boys, Ever knew she needed to take a detour to the dormitory first. Freed was trapped, and there was no beating about that rosebush, and could wait a little bit longer. Bickslow sounded more and more sapped of hope with every time they'd spoken, and the last thing he needed was to see Ever looking as tired, downbeat and bedraggled as he was sounding.
So the first thing she did once she got off the train was to fly to the dormitory – walking would be too slow – and showered. She changed into something less rain-beaten, put on a face that would almost seem like she wasn't on the edge of falling apart, and rummaged through the little chest under her bed where she kept snacks.
Tucked away in a little box which had once held enchantments to keep the contents fresh, were some cookies. Those weird oatmeal raisin and cinnamon ones that Freed insisted on making. He said they were more substantive than the sugary, chocolatey ones Ever and Bix always begged off of him, and that they would give them more useful energy on a mission if they had nothing else to eat. It had become a stupid little stalemate between the team, with Bix and Ever decrying the cruelty of Freed, who had such culinary talents, wasting his time on oatmeal raisin cookies. Even if they were delicious.
She'd never admitted to him out loud that she actually loved them. Not to Freed.
He might not know. Might never be able to know.
He might not ever be able to make them again.
Shaking her head with a slight twitch, she reached for the box. The magic was gone, and they wouldn't last much longer. She tucked them under her arm, picked up an umbrella from the rack it hung on, and went to leave her room.
Of all people, Erza was standing outside of it, looking halfway towards knocking. They stared at each other for a moment, and Ever really didn't have the patience to deal with her right now. She went to walk on, but Erza stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, a look of almost guilt on her face as she clearly thought through her words.
Ever's patience snapped before the thought could be completed. "What is it?"
"We're not handling this well, is the thing," Erza said quietly. "I don't know how we could do it better, exactly, but I know we're not doing it well."
"Who's 'we' in this?" Ever asked, because the 'what' was obvious. The 'what' was one of her boys being on the brink of possible death, and the other being trapped in a medical bay with his wild imagination running a mile a minute and getting bleaker because of it. Erza seemed conflicted, her tedious loyalty to someone grating on Ever's nerves more than normal. "Look, I have to go and see-"
"I know, but just… I know it's ridiculous to ask this of you but, go carefully. Don't… make things worse."
"I'm sorry?" Ever reeled back, fairy dust shimmering around her and a glare on her face.
"The situation is so tenuous. Bluntly, a lot of people in Magnolia don't think any of your team should still be in the guild. I don't agree with them, but I can't stop them from thinking that way. We think we know what's happening with Freed, but we can't exactly prove it, so there's a lot of distrust and fear. He is dangerous, and has used his magic on the town before so…" She trailed off, looking agitated. "Bickslow already broke through the barricades to see him, and Laxus shouldn't even be in the town so-"
"What?" Ever demanded.
"Laxus is still technically not allowed back here."
"But he is? He's here? Now?"
"I assumed you'd been-"
This time, Ever did shove past Erza. She ran through the halls of the dormitory, brought forth her wings the moment she was in the rain, and flew towards the guildhall with all the speed she could muster.
Her boys, all three of them, were trainwrecks at the best of time. Bickslow was so much sadder than he ever let anyone see, Laxus was so busy pushing down his emotions he forgot to realise that anger counted as an emotion too, and Freed smothered his self-destructive tendencies with wit and stoic judgment. They were disasters and needed her.
——
The med bay was quiet at night, with only the two of them in. Laxus had always assumed himself to prefer a quiet room, and that it would be less irritating to deal with. All throughout his exile so far, he hadn't missed the sound of anyone talking to him. He had his music, or the sound of the wind, and that had been enough for him. He was the type of man who always liked silence, and that was that.
But now, sitting with Bickslow who was barely saying anything, he realised he was wrong.
When he was on his own, he enjoyed the peace of the quiet. But when he was with people, there was comfort to the noises. Surety. Safety. His friends were loud. Bickslow was usually a constant stream of nonsense, Ever never needed much to provoke her into a rant of some kind, and even Freed was chatty as fuck when he wanted to be.
So sitting with Bickslow, not sure of what to say and not knowing what the guy was thinking, Laxus realised he actually craved chatter. He craved knowing that his friends were okay. He craved being able to sit back and relax, knowing that there was nothing to fix because the people he loves were doing what they always did.
But there was so much to fix right now, and Laxus didn't know how to do any of it.
Footsteps thundered out from the quietness of the mostly vacant guildhall, or at least they sounded thunderous to Laxus' ears. A quick glance at Bickslow, who was absentmindedly batting at one of his babies in some sort of a game, made it clear that only Laxus could hear whoever it was. He reached for his cane, and only just managed to stand up when the door flew open and Ever ran in.
They looked at each other for a moment, still and waiting. She'd changed how she did her hair. It looked good. She was clocking the changes in Laxus, too, but her expression flashed to panic at the sight of the cane, before she schooled it away. She all but lurched at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tight.
Fuck. Fuck, the warmth and strength and presence of her felt good. He'd needed this.
He wrapped his arms around her as best as his tired body could allow, and tried not to let his heart break at the gasp of surprise Ever let out when he did. It made sense, he supposed. He'd never exactly shown any of them he cared. Not in any obvious sense.
"I missed you," Ever said into his chest. "You stupid, big, sack of dicks."
"I missed you too," Laxus whispered into the top of her head.
"No hugs for this side of the room?" Bix asked from his bed, grinning at Ever when they turned to look at him.
Ever extracted herself from Laxus' arms and all but threw herself into Bickslow's. Bickslow crooked a finger at Laxus to join in, and Laxus didn't need further prompting. Bickslow's strong arm wrapped around him and held him tight, with Ever slightly awkwardly squashed between them but not seeming to mind. They stayed like that for a moment, with Laxus having nearly everyone he cared about safe in his arms. He breathed slowly, letting the moment of safety wash over him while he had it.
"We'll get through this," Ever promised. "We'll get him out and we'll get through this."
"Yeah," Laxus agreed, voice hoarse.
"Course we will," BIckslow nodded. "They think they know what's happened. There's this dark mage-"
"No," Ever pulled away, breaking the hug. "Not tonight. I'm barely awake, you look like you haven't slept in days," she gave Bix an unimpressed look, "and we're not even touching the fact that Laxus is using a cane, and I can't even feel a scrap of his magical energy on him. Tonight, we're getting the night off from thinking about all the horrible things. Freed won't mind."
"You think you can just stop thinking about it?" Bix asked, tone more doubting than accusatory, which would have been how Laxus sounded.
"Not a damn chance, but I don't want a night of planning and plotting, nor do I want a night feeling hopeless and angry and scared," she placed something on the small table on wheels that rested half over Bickslow's bed. It was a food container, one of the ones Freed kept in his cupboard to hand out. She popped the lid and revealed a pile of Freed's damn amazing oatmeal cookies. "So, we're having a night of eating cookies and telling our favourite Freed stories. We can figure out how to save him in the morning."
"Where'd you find these?" Laxus asked, voice a little dry as he picked one up. They smelled the same.
"Freed made 'em for me before I left on my last mission," Ever shrugged. "Started making them after you left, I think."
That wasn't the case, but Laxus didn't need to voice that. Freed had been making these for Laxus for years now, once or twice a month. On a particularly bad night, Laxus had once confessed that his mother used to make oatmeal raisin cookies and Laxus had never been able to find someone who could replicate the recipe. Freed had never gotten them exactly the same as Laxus' mother, but they were damn close, and Laxus had grown to love the difference. They'd never spoken about it. But the battered old tin that Laxus had been using as a cookie jar hadn't been empty since that conversation. Not once. Not until his exile.
Freed had still baked them even with him gone. Had he been thinking pf him when he did it? Was it selfish to even think that?
"You two stay here," Ever insisted, "and don't start without me. I'll know."
She rushed off back into the guildhall's main room, leaving Laxus and Bickslow alone again. They shared a look, and Bickslow spoke first. "She's gonna do that thing where she looks after us and forgets to look after herself, isn't she?"
"Yeah," Laxus nodded. "D'you mind if I offer her to stay at your apartment with me so she's not alone?"
"I think it's funny you thought either of us have a choice in that," Bickslow laughed. "Kinda shocked she didn't haul her mattress in here and set up camp."
They shared a little laugh at the very likely possibility of that happening and managed to smother it before the door was opened again. Ever walked in with a huge tray balanced a little precariously. As she passed Laxus with it, he saw three large bowls of mixed flavour ice cream, and three steaming mugs of cocoa, complete with whipped cream and marshmallows on top. She placed it on the table over Bickslow's bed, then wordlessly climbed in next to him under the blanket.
"That was quick," Laxus commented as Ever snuggled into Bickslow's side.
"I asked Mirajane to sort them when I first came in."
"Asked, or demanded?" Bickslow asked with a grin.
"Well, that's just semantics, isn't it?" Ever huffed, before looking at Laxus unimpressed. "Get in bed, you big dragon dildo."
Appropriately cowed, Laxus walked to the bed. He unhooked the sword from his belt and left it resting on the side table, making sure he'd be able to see it from where he sat. He climbed onto the bed, his legs glad of the relief, as Ever covered him with the tattered but soft blanket that covered the two of them. "You never used to speak to me like that."
"Well, you shouldn't have hugged me," Ever shrugged. "Guys who hug me get the full force of my personality."
"Welcome to the club, baby," Bickslow teased, and his babies followed with a chorus of 'one of us, one of us' to further the point.
Ever reached down the bed for the table and wheeled it close enough they could reach. She pulled a cookie out from the container and dunked it in the cocoa she must have deemed was hers, burrowing into the sheets and looking content in doing so. If not for the sadness in her eyes, he might have believed her.
"Okay, Raijinshuu story time. Laxus, you're an honorary member tonight, so you have to join in," Ever insisted, pointing at him with an ice cream covered spoon. "So, which one of you is going to go first?" There was a stagnant pause, where neither of them said anything. Ever huffed, rolled her eyes. "Honestly. Men!"
"Why don't you start us off?" Bickslow prompted as he reached for his own cocoa and took an obnoxiously loud sip. Laxus picked up a cookie and took a bite, making it clear it was either Ever who would be starting, or nobody at all.
"Men. Lazy lazy men," Ever shook her head, then rested it on Laxus' shoulder. "Okay, well, we were new to the guild. I'd just moved into the dorms, and had that little rose garden. More of a flower bed, I suppose, but I liked it. I didn't know much about Magnolia, and didn't know the weather could turn the way it did, so I wasn't expecting the storms. The flowers were practically drowned, and I didn't handle it well. Perhaps I was a little dramatic."
"You?" Laxus scoffed. "Never." Ever gasped at him in exaggerated affront, and he just shrugged. "You compare me to a novelty sex toy, you get the full force of my personality too."
"Douche," Ever huffed, but it sounded more like a praise. "But, whatever. So Freed found me, since we were meant to be doing research for a mission. He said that maybe planting flowers at the bottom of a hill in Magnolia was, and I'm quoting here, 'an idea that shows a deficit of basic human intelligence.'" She scowled, and Laxus grinned as Bickslow snorted. "But then he offered me his back yard, and helped me plant as many roses as I wanted. And he only complained about the thorns maybe fifteen times, which wasn't too bad." A sombre look covered her face. "I suppose they're probably gone now, too."
"They're fine," Laxus was quick to correct. When they both gave him a questioning look, he shrugged. "I saw them when I was jumping across the roofs."
"Why were you- never mind. Tell me tomorrow," she sipped her cocoa again. "But that was when I started to actually understand Freed as a person. He did care, and he was nice, he was just prickly. I tried to tell him that, but he told me if I compared him to a rose while we were planting roses, it would 'be a cliché so devoid of nuance that he'd take a scythe to the garden purely out of spite.'" She tittered. "I told him he wasn't a rose at all; he was the steaming pile of crap that made a rose like me shine."
Bickslow snorted. "I guess he reacted well to that?"
"He told me that there was a growing theory among botanist mages that flowers had a unique form of sentience, and that what I'd done with my flower bed was essentially floral mass murder and that I had their souls on my conscious," She laughed. "I pushed him face first into the mud and ran away and a week later we were best friends." She smiled, and it was only slightly tinged with sadness. "That's mine. Give me one of yours."
"I once made a bet with him, which obviously I won," Bickslow grinned. "So for a full day I got to drag him around from store to store and he had to try on any outfit I wanted. I kinda thought he'd hate it, and I'd have to play it cool, y'know? But he got into it. Well, sort of. I think he knew I wanted him grumpy, so he played it up. That make sense? Crossing his arms, bein' snappy. Thank god, too, because I wanted to embarrass him, but he looks good in everything. Totally unfair. After, like, the sixth failed attempt and it, I just took him to a sporting store and packed him into the tightest stuff I could find."
Laxus huffed a laugh. "Seriously?"
"Totally. You should see him in one of those wrestling singlets! It's enough to make a man leak."
"You mean weap, right?" Laxus asked.
Bickslow gave a huge grin, and shook his head. "Nah. I mean leak." He nodded down to his crotch, and both Laxus and Ever groaned. Though, Laxus felt his cheeks heat just a little at the mental image. "He took it like a trooper though. Posed when I wanted. He's a pretty good loser, actually. And, because of that, the world has me to thank for Freed ditching board shorts and picking up the speedo lifestyle."
"What?" Laxus said, having to swallow down a gulp of cocoa to avoid choking on it.
"Oh yeah, that's pretty new, isn't it?" Bickslow drawled, his voice teasing. "Guess you've never seen him stuffed tight into a pair, huh? Just have to make sure you stick around until summer then. Unless you don't mind missing it."
The teasing tone, mental image, and knowledge of Bickslow hearing his confession earlier in the day made Laxus squirm a little. Ever whispered a harsh 'shut up' to Bickslow in a tone that clearly said not to push the issue. She apparently must have known about Laxus' feelings too, then. Maybe he wasn't subtle at all.
"What about you?" Ever asked gently, aimed at Laxus. "Favourite Freed story."
A revolting revelation crossed Laxus. He couldn't think of one. Not a single story came to mind that would exemplify exactly what Freed meant to him. No story could do it. No single moment could encompass the devotion, brightness and love that Freed brought into his life. No words could. Nothing could, and Laxus felt his very soul shudder at his own failure.
"Can't think of one," he admitted, voice quiet. "I know they're there, I just can't think of one."
"That's fine man," Bickslow consoled. "None of us are in our right mind now, are we?"
"But I should have one!" Laxus shouted, then winced as his words echoed around the room. "I- the way he makes me feel, surely I can think of one good time we spent together. He's basically one of the only people in the world that makes me feel like a real person and I can't even think of a moment when- it's like that time I nearly drowned on a mission, d'you remember that? Well, he was the one who dragged me to the surface. He grabbed my hand and hauled me up and I could breathe again. That's what he feels like to me. Bein' around him makes me feel like I'm not drowning anymore, and I can't even think of a single good time I spent with him."
Bix and Ever were quiet for a moment, and Laxus closed his eyes in frustration. Being alone must have deteriorated his filter, because that was not the kind of crap that he would normally say out loud.
Ever's hand clasped his own, and Bickslow took Laxus by the back of his neck. "We'll get him out," Bickslow promised. "You'll piss him off with how many memories you're making with him."
"Yeah," Laxus said, but his voice reflected the lack of hope he was feeling.
"We will," Ever insisted. "And Bix will constantly be taking him clothes shopping, and I'll be pushing him into the mud every day, and he'll be sick with the lot of us."
"Yeah," Laxus repeated, forcing himself to sound positive. "Course we will."
If only he believed his own words.
——
Makarov wasn't proud of himself for listening into what was obviously a private conversation between his grandson and his friends, but he was glad he did.
It was so easy to let the Raijinshuu be nothing more than the socially outcasted, dark and serious team that they sometimes presented themselves to be. Before Fantasia, Makarov had felt nothing of sending the more bleak, morally compromising jobs their way, knowing they would be the ones to deal with it without problem. After Fantasia, Makarov had kept an eye on them, only allowing them to go on missions of a more simple nature, and making sure that resentment of his choices wasn't brewing.
He had wanted to trust them. He truly had. But, as he listened to them recounting stories of the weird moments that defined their relationship with Freed, he realised something. He had never seen who they were. Never allowed them to be people in the way he did his other guildmembers.
He wanted them to be family, and yet never let them be real.
And now Freed was trapped in a hell of his own making, and his friends were close to the point of grieving a death that hadn't yet happened. All because Makarov had been fighting his instincts and was cowing down to the rune knights and the pressure of public opinion.
No longer.
One of his brats was in a living hell, and three more of them were miserable for it. No more dancing around the problem. No more taking into account anything other than the safety and wellbeing of his guild. No more stalling. They would get Freed out, his friends would embrace him again, and Laxus would not be made a murderer by Makarov's inaction.
Tomorrow, things were going to change. Makarov would make sure of it.
Summary: When magic flares and runes are written, Freed is found in his home, wrapped up and trapped in his own magic. He’s partially transformed, his soul is rotting, and his eyes are dead. He’s left behind a puzzle of traps and a summons for the exiled Laxus Dreyar. A summons that, by all interpretations, would make Laxus his executioner.
Laxus refuses to kill the man he cares for more than anyone else. But with an untrusting guild, a mystery that seemed hell bent on not being solved, and the threat of slaughter ever looming, can Laxus do anything to save the man he loves before he must kill him with his own hands?
Notes: Hello again, thank you so much for the nice things you’ve all said, and for all the notes on the last chapter. I know you shouldn’t base things on that, but it really helps to know people are enjoying it. Hope you’re ready for some scary Laxus, because now he has someone to rage at :)
Link: Ao3, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter
Chapter Seven: Information
"He's in there," the jailor said, motioning to a cell which hummed with magic dampening spells. "Annoying little ass, too."
Jet nodded, rolling his shoulders back in preparation. He had been sent to Angelfold, a small little town in the mountains of northern Fiore, to pick up the mage the guild suspected had tainted Freed. Technically he wasn't acting in the guild's name – they were still arguing about how to broach the situation now that Laxus had come back – but Levy had asked for him and he'd been happy to oblige. She'd been stressing herself out hard over everything, and Jet would always be in her corner.
And, well, he was on Freed's side in this. If the guild had welcomed Gajeel into their members with practically open arms after what he'd done to Levy, Droy and himself, then they could give Freed the benefit of the doubt. At least Freed and his team had been dickheads in a way that left Jet some dignity.
He rounded the corner and faced the man likely behind this all. He was a small, waspish looking man with dark hair and shadowy eyes. The first thing Jet saw was his smirk, cocky and self assured in the way a man could only achieve when they were totally fucked but were trying to hold onto their bravado. Jet always hated this kind of dark mage, and usually threw in a couple more punches than was necessary. It wasn't like anyone could see him do it when he really sped up.
"It's your lucky day, Trell," The jailor drawled, referring to the mage by his last name. "You're getting an excursion."
Trell looked to them both, grinning lazily in a way that hid his inevitable confusion. He didn't say anything as the jailor unlocked the cell and walked in, snapping magic stopping cuffs around his wrists. He looked towards Jet and cocked an arrogant eyebrow, looking him up and down with a slow, assessing gaze. If the speed of the movement wouldn't kick up any dust, Jet might have sped up to kick the guy in his gut.
"You guys not up to lookin' after me or summin?" He asked, voice nasal and heavily accented in the regional tone, as he looked back to the jailor. "Gotta say, I thought we were getting' along."
"You're going to Magnolia for the day," The jailor informed him, not raising to the bait. "Apparently you're causing problems without even bein' nearby. Who'da thought your piddly ass magic would've been able to do that?"
"I'm a powerhouse, what can I say?" The dark mage shrugged in his cuffs, then looked back to Jet. "This the guy taking me away."
"That's right," Jet said, looking down his nose at the kid. Could only barely be eighteen and already with ego to topple a mountain, and magic that could fuck over someone like Freed. He needed to be humbled, and maybe showing how unimpressive he really was. "Now move your ass, we've got places to be."
"Magnolia, right? You know that's on the other side of the country, don't'cha? Not exactly a day trip distance, is it?" Trell laughed, and Jet clenched his fists for just a moment to calm himself down. But then the little asshole clicked his fingers and raised both hands so he could point at Jet. "Fairy Tail's set up in Magnolia, ain't it? This to do with that green haired fuck stick who got in a lucky shot on me?"
"That's enough talkin'," the jailor insisted.
"How's he doin'?" Trell kept on speaking. "I kept wondering, y'know. Guess now I know. But I gotta ask," he leant in towards Jet, voice conspiratorial now. "He made any bad choices lately? I won't tell."
Jet lurched forward, propelled by his magic, the admission of guilt enough to draw out Jet's anger. This little fucker had thrown the guild into free-fall with one tiny spell, and he seemed pretty damn smug about it. Maybe a kick in the head would be better than one in the gut. That would do enough to make Jet feel a little better about the sleepless nights Levy had been dealing with. A couple more might make up for the fractures the guild was dealing with. Then maybe a final one, just for his own pleasure.
But his magic stuttered to a stop before Jet could get to him, and he looked to see the jailor with his hand out, a red glow around it and an understanding expression on his face. "He pisses me off too, but you don't beat the crap out of a guy in cuffs. Not in my jail."
Jet pulled back, and stood straight again. The guy was right. That would be fucked up.
"Damn you got pissed real fast," Trell continued, bolstered by thinking he was protected. "What did he do? Sleep with your girl? I can see that happening. He's kinda pretty, if you like guys like that. Better than the crooked tooth, rat face thing you got goin' on."
Oddly, it calmed Jet to hear it. He knew a rage baiter when he heard one. He simply stepped forward and, as he'd discussed with the jailor, scooped Trell up bridal style. It had the remarkable effect of making the fucker quiet for a few moments of stunned silence.
"Head on my chest at all times," Jet commanded.
"Wouldn't go for you even if I swung that way," Trell grunted, trying to move around in Jet's grasp, but to no avail. Jet was a working mage and had the bulk that came with the work. "Put me down!"
"Head on my chest at all times," Jet repeated. "Unless you want whiplash, then you do you."
And thus, Jet ran with the dark mage in his arms. He went at full speed, traversing the length of Fiore at great speed. His feet slammed against the surfaces of lakes and stagnant rivers, never once staying long enough to get wet, as he felt the luxurious rush of wind hitting him at full speed. He felt Trell clutching to him like his life depended on it, and maybe it did. Jet normally went a little slower than this when holding someone, but Trell deserved a bit of fear to shake him up.
Soon enough, after about ten minutes of sprinting, Jet was in Magnolia, standing in front of Freed's ruined little house. He didn't look directly at it. He'd heard what was happening inside and didn't want the reality to prove itself worse than what he was imagining. He let Trell down and, after he found his footing, nodded towards the door which had remained open since Laxus' arrival. Trell looked around warily, seeing the barricade, the knights who Levy must have warned, and the overwhelming presence of magic in the house.
He stepped forward to the door, and then stepped back.
"That's not me. I didn't do that," He insisted, sounding panicked at the sight of Freed. "I didn't-"
"You ever heard of Laxus Dreyar?" Jet asked.
"What? Yeah. Built like a brick shit house and ugly with it. Got anger issues. One bad day from killin' a guy," Trell said, continually glancing back at the door then away from it. "What the hell does he have to do with… that?"
"Well, he wants to see ya," Jet grinned, and it wasn't a kind grin. "And that guy in there," he nodded to the house. "Well, it turns out Laxus is kinda in love with him. Small world, ain't it? That the guy whose life you fucked up caught the eye of the guy you just claimed is one bad day from killing someone."
"I didn't- that's not how my magic works. I didn't do that!"
"Between you and me," Jet whispered. "I think Laxus has had quite a lot of bad days recently and really wants somebody to take it out on. So, let's not keep him waiting," he jerked his head towards the direction of the guild. "Come on. No full speed this time. A nice brisk walk, just long enough for you to really get in your head."
Jet grinned and started walking, and Trell followed without a snarky word said.
—
"How're you keeping?" Laxus asked, sitting at Bickslow's bedside. Freed's sword was on his lap, and a cane that Porlyusica had given him resting on the chair next to him. "Sorry, should have asked before."
"Other than the fact my best friend might die any second, can't complain," Bickslow huffed, and the snappish tone took Laxus off guard slightly. Bickslow grimaced and leant back in his bed. "Sorry."
Laxus waved it off. It was only the two of them now, with everyone else having filtered out slowly. Laxus' proclamation that, while he refused to kill Freed if there was any chance of another way out being found, he could do it if needed, had put an end to the conversation. He had said what needed to be said, and there would be no more to the situation. They all knew that they had to find a way to get Freed out of it, and the fact that Laxus would wreak hell on them all if he thought them half-assing it went unspoken. For now, Laxus knew he needed to get enough energy back, so his magic was reachable.
Sitting with Bix was the best way he could think to do it. He was always great company, especially in the worse moments. Sometimes Laxus wondered if he and the team put too much pressure on him to be a light in their darkness.
"Nah, I get what you meant," Bickslow assured him, shifting to get a more comfortable position. "Honestly, until this I thought it was all going well. We were spending a lot of time in the guild, makin' friends. Freed got close to Lucy – the blonde newbie – after he shaved his head and needed one of her spirits to grow it back."
"He shaved his head?"
"Total buzzcut. He didn't give it enough time to see if it worked, I don't think. Don't think I helped rubbing it all the time. Felt really good on my hands, though. Smooth and spiky. I think it pissed him off," He shrugged. "But yeah, before we became public enemy number one again, I thought we were starting to have fun with the rest of them."
Laxus let that sit. "You always wanted to get more involved with guild stuff. I kept telling you that it was dumb, and-"
"Baby, I'm angry at a lot of people right now, and you're not one of them. Don't go trying to barge your way into the group, I don't have the energy," Bickslow reached over and patted Laxus on the hand, the sword shifting slightly as he did so. They looked at it for a moment before Bix spoke again. "You ready to talk about your little confession yet?"
"Is it okay if I'm not?"
"Totally fine."
"I'm not."
"Okay baby," Bickslow nodded, then reached for his cloak. He fiddled with it then pulled out some keys, which he tossed at Laxus. Laxus caught them with the hand that wasn't holding the sword still. "For as long as you're in town you can take my place. You remember where it is, right?"
"Of course," Laxus nodded. "There enough space for both of us?"
"I don't think I'm getting outta here for a while."
"Seriously?" Laxus scoffed. Bickslow seemed to be fine, and even Porlyusica had said his injury has healed. "They actually think you're still part of some stupid plan to get me back and need to keep you here?"
"Maybe. The magic laid dormant in Freed for a while and I got a couple particles of it in me. They think they got them all out but can't be sure, so I think they wanna keep track of me just in case," he leant back. "Boring though. Can't even jerk off in here."
"Come on man!" Laxus groaned.
"Yeah. You think about that when you're wrapped up in my sheets tonight, stud."
"You're so fuckin' annoying," Laxus said, grinning. "I missed you so much."
"Missed you too, Laxy."
"Look, I need to apologise for all the crap I put you, Ever and Freed-"
The door burst open, and Levy stumbled in, flustered and panting. She zeroed in on them both, catching her breath as she panted out, "He's here." She swallowed, made a motion for them to wait a second for her to catch her breath. "The guy who cast the spell on Freed; Jet just brought him here."
"What?" Bickslow demanded, and both he and Laxus stood up as fast as they could.
Laxus leant on the cane as he stormed on, tucking the sword into his belt as he walked forward. Bickslow followed, wordlessly helping Laxus when his aching legs stumbled and he nearly went crashing to the ground. Laxus redoubled the pressure he was putting on the cane and stormed out of the med bay.
They walked into an argument, which seemed to be the natural state of the guild these days. Jet and Makarov were going toe to toe about what Jet had done, and in the middle of them was some kid who looked like he'd been through a damn war and couldn't process it. He was shaken, scared, and trembling. He looked at Laxus the same moment Laxus looked at him, and seemed ready to try his luck running. Laxus damn well dared him to.
"That's him?" Bickslow demanded of Levy, voice low.
"Yes."
"He looks scared," Bickslow commented.
"I think Jet made a big show of what Laxus would do to him."
"Good," Laxus growled, storming forward as quickly as he could.
As they approached, Jet stopped arguing and Makarov took a moment to realise why. He looked damn near ready to have an aneurism when he realised Laxus was heading straight towards the cuffed little bastard who might have instigated Freed's death, and moved to stand in front of them. "Laxus, you need to go back into the med bay now. You cannot be out here right now?"
Laxus tested his luck, and barged past his grandfather. Maybe Makarov didn't entirely despite him, because Laxus wasn't struck by an elongated limb and pushed aside. He looked down at the dark mage who was to blame for this all. The man trembled, and glanced over his shoulder. He made eye contact with Jet, who glared at him. Team Shadow Gear were proving to be much more ballsy than Laxus ever gave them credit for.
"I didn't do it!" The dark mage tried to argue. "My magic doesn't work like that."
"We've already explained what happened," Jet snapped. "So that ain't gonna work."
"But how was I meant to know!" He exclaimed. "I can't go around asking if people were stupid enough to make deals with demons."
"Did you just call him stupid?" Laxus asked, taking another step forward.
"Laxus, go back into the med bay," Makarov demanded, and was ignored.
"Now, you're very fucking lucky right now, on two counts," Laxus continued on, taking another step forward. The slam of his cane on the wood had the dark mage cowering slightly. "Number one, I ain't got my magic right now and my body's not in the best shape, but don't think for a second that I can't beat your ass like this. Number two, you're the only one in the room that might have any idea on how to fix this, so we got a vested interest in keeping you breathing for you. You understand that?"
The dark mage nodded, eyes darting around. They landed on Makarov, and Laxus got why. He was probably the closest thing to a friendly face for the guy right now.
"Eyes on me," Laxus snapped, and the kid obeyed. "Now, you might wanna get cocky about bein' important. Don't. We all know that the guy being interrogated is the only irreplaceable one in the room, but that doesn't last forever. Eventually, in one way or another, this situation is over. I think I'm gonna have my magic back at that point, and I'm gonna have to think about how useful you've been. And what needs to happen with you when it's all over."
"Laxus!" Makarov scolded.
"I'm not part of this guild anymore," Laxus leant in with a whisper. "And I think I'm gonna be kicked out again when this is all done. So, it'll just be me, with my magic again, on my own. So how long d'you think you could run before I caught up with you?" He grinned a nasty grin. "Why don't you tell me how to break your magic, huh?"
A hand wrapped around Laxus' wrist, and he was jerked back with force. It was his grandfather's hand, stretched out from half way across the room. He looked ready to scream at Laxus and kick him out again, but didn't have the chance.
"It's guilt," The dark mage stumbled out. "That stops it."
"How?" Bickslow demanded and Laxus yanked his hand free and turned back to him.
"I don't know, exactly," he winced, taking a step back and meeting Jet's grasp. "Just, sometimes people do really bad things, y'know. Fucked up stuff. And it's like, once they see what they've done, it snaps them out of it. And they always start off begging to be forgiven, y'know? So it must be guilt."
Laxus cursed. Freed had trapped himself well enough that he couldn't do anything, so he could hardly feel guilty about anything unless he was released from the runes, which Makarov and the knights would never allow. Not to mention, Freed was so stubborn that guilt was foreign to him. Sometimes Laxus felt Freed was the least guilty out of all of them for what happened in Fantasia.
Fuck, there had to be a different way than letting Freed destroy the world around him to the point where he felt a level of guilt that overpowered magic. A level of guilt that would ruin his soul.
Laxus didn't want that for him. It would have to be something that there was no coming back from, and Freed shouldn't have to decimate his morals to keep control of himself.
"That's not right, though," A voice – Lucy, of all people – spoke up. Everyone in the guild seemed to turn to her.
"It is! I'm not lying!"
"Maybe you're not, but I don't think you're right," she said, and opened a leather bound stack of papers onto a nearby table. Laxus walked to it and glanced down to see pages of Freed's handwriting. His mission notes. "Freed said that there was no surefire way to break your magic other than-" She cut herself off and gave a glance towards Laxus. "Well, he said there was someone who broke out. A man whose husband had been cheating on him for months. Apparently, he — the one who hadn't been cheating – ground up peppers and spices and loads of things. He basically made the worlds worst itching powder and emptied it into his husband's underwear drawer. The husband apparently didn't realise and wore some and, well, Freed's written intense genital discomfort."
"That's Freed speak for his balls being on fire," Bickslow said, a smile in his voice.
"Well, okay," Lucy continued. "But apparently that broke the man out of the magic. Seeing his cheating husband with his balls on fire made him laugh so hard the magic was overpowered. He kept repeating that this was the best thing he's ever done, and that 'this is the best moment of my life.' That doesn't sound like guilt. It's more like glee." She looked back up at the guild. "So that means-"
"You shouldn't ever cheat on a guy from Angelfold," Natsu mumbled from a corner of the guild.
"It means that it's not just guilt!" Bickslow exclaimed. "It's any strong emotion."
"That makes sense," Levy concurred. "I suppose if you're being forced to do the things you'd normally censor out, a lot of people would feel guilty about their actions more than anything else."
Laxus glanced back down at the paper. He'd skim read it, looking for what Lucy was referring to as she was speaking, and something snagged at him. He had written that the two people who had broken free of the spell that he'd seen – the other one had been guilt, as the dark mage had suggested – both were in a state of strong emotions. Maybe he'd theorised what they all had, but only referenced it as he wasn't sure. That was like Freed; the written word was law, and he wouldn't sully it with an assumption.
"So we need to find a way to make him emotional?" Jet asked. "That's not too hard, right?"
"And it makes sense why he would want Laxus, since they know each other well," Levy theorised.
But that didn't work for Laxus, because Bickslow and Ever were better friends to Freed than Laxus had ever been, and Freed would know summoning them would shine less suspicion on him than calling for Laxus. And what the hell did any of that have to do with a sword that made Laxus tell the truth? No, Freed was smarter than anyone in the guild – Laxus included – and had plotted something out. This was a puzzle box of Freed's creation, and Laxus needed to solve it.
At a slow pace, Laxus walked back towards the med bay, leaving the raucous noise behind him. Bix glanced at him in silent question, and Laxus gave him a small motion to stay where he was. He closed the med bay door behind him and let the muffled noise drown away.
Silently, he removed Freed's sword from his belt and clenched it to his chest. The truth runes glowed, and the familiar feel of Freed's magic soothed him.
"I will fix this," He promised in a whisper. "But I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do."
Summary: When magic flares and runes are written, Freed is found in his home, wrapped up and trapped in his own magic. He’s partially transformed, his soul is rotting, and his eyes are dead. He’s left behind a puzzle of traps and a summons for the exiled Laxus Dreyar. A summons that, by all interpretations, would make Laxus his executioner.
Laxus refuses to kill the man he cares for more than anyone else. But with an untrusting guild, a mystery that seemed hell bent on not being solved, and the threat of slaughter ever looming, can Laxus do anything to save the man he loves before he must kill him with his own hands?
Notes: Again, I just want to thank everyone who commented, you really have no idea how much it helps keep me writing.
Link: Ao3, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter
ACT II
Chapter Six – Coagulation
Static and sparks warped Laxus' vision as he woke, body weak and muscles aching. His nerves screamed at him as he shifted slightly, the light sneaking in under the curtains agony on his eyes. He clenched them shut as quickly as he could, feeling the whirl and churn of the world turning around him.
"There's a bucket to your left," A haggard, old woman's voice snapped.
Laxus reached around, lowering his hand closer to the floor before he felt the rim of the bucket. He hauled it up, and didn't fight back the acidic bile as he vomited into the can, head still spinning and guts still churning as he emptied them. Once he was sure the sickness subsided, he placed the bucket back on the ground and risked opening his eyes again. It was still too bright, but manageable. As he blinked up, he was met with the scowling, unimpressed face of Porlyusica.
"What happened?" He demanded, voice hoarse and throat weak.
As he asked, the answer seemed to come back to him. He remembered a nauseatingly strong swell of magic. He remembered being grasped by his grandfather's stretched hand, squeezed from behind and pulled back with ferocity. He remembered Freed, and being taken from him.
"If you even consider standing, you will regret it," Porlyusica snapped. "And what happened is that you're an idiot."
"Freed-"
"You'd think that a man with a physique such as yours might understand the basics of dietary requirements," she interrupted. "But no. You apparently thought that you'd just be fine neglecting anything even close to a balanced diet. Or a diet at all, really. I doubt you've even had one real meal most days, what with your current state. Your magic is the only thing that's been sustaining you."
Laxus blinked focus into the room. Was he in Fairy Tail? This wasn't the med bay. Where was he?
"Magic, I might add, you've been neglecting," Porlyusica continued. "You've barely used it at all in months. I'm fairly sure that you know magic backs up, and can have adverse effects on a person if not regularly used, correct?"
"I need to get to-"
"So, what has happened, as you asked, is the natural endpoint of your stupidity." She slammed her hand on a desk. "You've been walking the country malnourished, you've been cannibalising your own magic to keep you going, and your magic reserves are overflowing to the point you were nearly reaching energy poisoning. So, when you touched those runes, your magic reached a boiling point. It was drawn to the runic magic like a damnable magnet, and took all of it with it, including the magic that was keeping you conscious."
With the room still swirling and her words going half-heard, Laxus reached for his magic. He tried to common sparks down his arms, but none came. He tried again and felt a hollow throb in the Lacrima that powered him. "My magic-"
"Will return, but you'll be running on empty for quite some time. You'll need to get your body back to a state where it sustains itself, rather than relying on your magic. Calorie rich foods will be a priority, as will proper rest and relaxation," she huffed. "I always knew you were an idiot, but I would have thought you'd remember how unpleasant the sicknesses of your childhood were and would strive to avoid them."
That was… she was scolding him, so he could ignore that. Food, rest, and relaxation were harder to ignore, and weren't happening. He had more important things to do than lie around in… his lagging brain took a moment to realise where he was. Not in the med bay, but he was in Fairy Tail. Makarov's office. He was lying on the stupid pull-out cot the old man sometimes used when he was working too late. It looked the same as it always had.
Nearly.
There was a picture missing from the wall. One that had shown Laxus on Makarov's shoulders as a kid. Now there was just a slight discolouration of the paint where it had once hung.
That was probably fair.
"Why am I in here not the med bay?"
"Because your idiot, pig-headed moron of a grandfather didn't want to leave you alone with the only other man's stupid enough to approach that… monstrosity of magic. Apparently if the two of you were determined to make stupid choices, it's best to keep you apart,"
"Who?"
She didn't respond to Laxus' exclamation. It had been so long since Laxus had relied on her that he'd forgotten how goddamn annoying she was. She never gave straight answers unless she was telling you what you needed to do to heal. It pissed him off. He moved slowly, his limbs feeling heavy and limp as he moved to sit up with his feet on the floor. He was still clothed, thank fuck, other than his unbuttoned shirt. The old bat might not give him any answers, but someone in this damn building would.
It was a trial for him to stand, and nearly resulted with him falling back onto the bed. He forced himself to grab onto the side table for balance, breath shuddering as the room swirled and warped around him.
"What's your end goal with this?" Porlyusica demanded, looking unimpressed.
"I need to know what's happening, and since you're not telling me, I'll find someone who will," he grunted, taking a shaky step forward. "Are you gonna stop me? Because I'd love to see how you'd try it."
She gave him a long, levelling look, before sighing and handing him her staff to use as support. She murmured that it was his own funeral, and that she'd be working on a diet and exercise plan to rehabilitate him to a more stable state. Laxus paid that no mind, and opened the door to the main room of the guildhall, using the staff like a walking cane as he did so.
As he walked across the upper floor, he felt a rush of silence overwhelm the space. He stood at the top of the staircase, looking down at a room of people looking at him. He straightened his back as best he could.
"What the hell is happening with Freed?"
——
Somewhere, deep inside a rotting, warped conscious, a man who could still be recognised as Freed Justine remained.
Powered by dancing lightning, the candle that made up his soul burned fractionally brighter. The coiling decimation slunk back slightly, still wrapped tight around him, but not advancing. The demon did not know what Freed had planned, but it knew danger when it sensed it, and a lightning infused soul was dangerous.
'Don't be sure of yourself,' the demon purred. 'I shall take you either way.'
But Freed knew better. Freed knew Laxus. And Freed knew that Laxus would put an end to this, one way or another.
——
The shouting of the guild had been cut off when Makarov raised a hand. Laxus glared down at his grandfather as he climbed the stairs, all but daring him to deny him answers. The guild knew what was happening, and even if it took him cornering each and every one of them until he found one too spineless to keep this secret, he would find out.
When Makarov reached the upper floor, Laxus really looked at him. He hadn't done that in… years. Not during the festival, nor after it. He looked tired. Downtrodden. Like he could collapse at any moment.
He better not fuck Laxus around, then. Not unless he wanted a whole other problem to deal with.
"You need to leave," Makarov instructed.
"No."
"That was not a request."
"I don't care," Laxus snapped. "You tell me what the hell has happened to him, and what I need to do to help him, because I'm not leaving this town until he's out of those runes again. Do you understand me?"
"You need to leave, Laxus," Makarov repeated, and there was just a hint of desperation that he smothered with anger.
"Not until I know what's happening," Laxus reaffirmed, and when it looked like Makarov was going to interrupt him again, he leant down and used his cane for leverage, eye level with him now. "Look into my eyes and tell me if you think there's even a chance of me leaving without you telling me."
Makarov held his gaze, and it was only when the sound of gentle footsteps came up the stairs that either of them broke gaze. Mirajane was looking at them both sadly, and something akin to dread flashed on her features when she looked at Laxus, but she quickly schooled it away. "You need to tell him," she implored gently, her voice sad. "Freed asked for him by name. I don't think it's right that we ignore that."
Even just hearing someone else say Freed's name – something he hadn't heard from another in months – sent a jolt down his spine. Before he could make any demands for more information, Makarov seemed to fold in on himself. He quietly said that they would discuss this in the med bay since Bickslow apparently was still on bedrest. Mirajane was instructed to help Laxus get down the stairs, and Makarov said he would gather everyone who would be needed. Laxus knew it was the best he was going to get, so didn't push his luck.
After getting down the stairs at a pace that, even after confronting the worse of his ego, sent humiliation flooding through him, Laxus made his way to the med bay. Bickslow balked at him, then all but leapt from his bed to greet him.
"What the hell are you doing here? What happened?" He looked towards Mirajane, "Why didn't anyone tell me he was here?"
"You're meant to be on bedrest," Mirajane scolded, motioning for Laxus to take a seat next to Bickslow's bed.
"For a head-wound. Yeah, makes sense. Definitely not because they wanna keep me where they can see me," Bickslow scoffed, voice bitter enough that it made Laxus' head snap up in shock. Bix wasn't normally like this. He was the fun one, wasn't he? But Laxus had no time to voice that when Bix looked back at him. "Apparently Freed's got some big evil plan going on so we can't be let near him. Last I heard, he's blackmailing the guild to let you come back."
Laxus scoffed. "He's the one who convinced me to leave."
"Try telling your granddad that," Bickslow huffed, turning to climb onto the bed. Laxus' eyes widened at the large gash in the back of his head, and when Bickslow was settled he rolled his eyes. "It's fine. Doesn't even hurt anymore."
Before Laxus could argue that point, the door to the med bay opened and in walked Erza, Levy and Lucy, and Laxus had to bite back the idea that if these were the people who were tasked in saving Freed's life then they might as well find a ditch to leave his body in now. He sat back and watched as Levy quietly asked how Bix was doing, only for her to be given the same brush off that Laxus had gotten.
They all pretty quickly managed to find a place to sit, and were all looking at Lauxs with either pity or expectation. Laxus stared at them back. They were the ones who knew what was happening, weren't they? They should be speaking.
"How did you know to come here?" Makarov asked.
Laxus should have guessed that this wouldn't be easy. But if this got him some answers then he could play their game. "Freed sort of… came to me in a dream. It was weird. Said he had to apologise for something, wouldn't tell me what it was though. Said he didn't know, but he had done something that he needed to apologise for."
Mirajane, Levy and Lucy shared a glance. Makarov insisted, "How did he send this message?"
"Cast a spell. Called it a trick, actually. Something rune mages can do that make people feel, like, an instinct or something," he looked at Levy who'd always seemed to know about letter-based magic. She nodded, seemingly in understanding. "Sliced off some of his soul to send it. Idiot."
Bickslow sucked in a breath, and Laxus assumed it was in reference to a damaged soul. But when he looked at Bickslow, he was grinning. "He's a genius."
"How so?" Makarov asked.
"I kept wondering how he did it. Aw, he's fucking smart," Bickslow laughed, then saw a room of impatient faces and shook his head. He turned to Laxus, speaking in the voice he used when on a mission. All business, no emotions. "Something's trying to… take him over. Ruin his soul. When I looked at it, it was mostly taken. Dark, and rancid. Awful. But there's one little bit left. And it didn't make sense. Unless you're a soul mage, you can't fight off something like that. But Freed, when he was casting that spell… he split his soul in two. Kept the core parts of him separate and walled away like some bastion. I don't know how long it'll last but," Bix shook his head again, impressed, "the asshole used a parlour trick to save his life."
The near celebratory way Bickslow explained it had Laxus' blood chill. Something was trying to dominate Freed's soul. To change him. To kill him. And this was seen as a victory. How fucked must Freed be if this was seen as a good thing?
"What the hell has happened to him?" Laxus demanded. "And if you fucking distract me again, I swear to god I'll-"
"We only have a theory, technically, but we're confident in it," Levy interrupted, looking at him softly. He hated being looked at like that, but didn't voice it. If she was going to help, he could endure. "He went on a mission a couple of months ago, to deal with a dark mage. When we looked at the mission log, we found that the dark mage made you act on your first thought every time."
"It's like you don't get a filter, but with your actions," Lucy added on, handing Laxus a file that was filled with Freed's handwriting. "It makes people start fights on things they'd normally overlook, or cheat on their partners, or be rude when they normally wouldn't. But, well…"
When Lucy trailed off, Mirajane picked up the slack. "Freed has a takeover form like I do. A demonic one. Part of the deal with that kind of magic is the suggestions the demon makes. It whispers in your ear and tries to tempt you do something sinful. And if you give into one, it'll suggest something worse. It snowballs. It's why I was so angry when I was younger," she wouldn't meet Laxus' eye. "If someone's not capable of ignoring those thoughts and has to act on them, it could be really bad."
"We think the dark mage managed to hit Freed, and it lay stagnant in him. He must have realised he was hit, and made a sort of… cage around himself," Levy explained. "That way, any decisions he makes, he can't act on them. He's locked himself out of the runes and trapped himself. We think."
"Why the hell has nobody told me about this?" Bickslow demanded.
"Why haven't you reversed the spell?" Laxus demanded on top of him. "Get rid of the assholes magic and let him out."
As Levy went to Bickslow's bedside to explain in a whisper that they were told not to tell him in case he tried to interfere again, Lucy fiddled with her hands, Erza avoided his gaze and Makarov looked like he was trying to smother something very close to misery. What weren't they telling him?
"You said he asked for me," Laxus said, looking at Mirajane. "When? How?"
"He set up a message on the outer layer of the runes for Levy to decode," Mirajane said softly, then spoke as if reciting something well memorised. "Levy, find Laxus. He is the one to fix this. Get him, give him my sword, or I will soon break free and bring slaughter with me."
Laxus' blood ran cold, and he forced himself past it. "So there's a way to fix it. What is it?"
Again, nobody spoke, and Laxus was about to demand one of them say something when Lucy caught his gaze then nodded down to the file containing Freed's mission notes. Laxus read through them quickly, zeroing in on the latter part of the rundown when he explained how the dark mage functioned. He froze, reading the paragraph again. And again. And again.
'The only surefire, reliable way to remove the magical effect on a person without the mage reversing the spell is for the victim to be killed.'
Killed.
Laxus had been summoned, been told to arm himself with Freed sword, and the only way to be sure the magic was gone was for Freed to be killed.
"No."
The room felt heavy, and Bickslow was the only one to break it. "No what? What do you need to do?"
"Did you know?" He asked his grandfather.
"I wanted you to leave," Makarov said weakly. "You could have left."
"I'm not doing it!"
"Doing what?" Bickslow demanded.
"You need to consider that this might be the only way to help him," Erza said firmly. "He's conscious and probably being tormented by whatever's trying to take him over." She made a gesture with her hand, summoning magic. "This might be the kindest way for this to end."
"What might be?" Bickslow yelled.
Laxus watched in disgust and shock as Freed's sword shimmered to life in Erza's hand. She shouldn't be touching it. Nobody but Freed should be touching it, but Erza least of all. That sword was Freed's most prized possession, and it should never be touched by someone who would ever consider giving up on him. He snatched it out of her hand, feeling sparks dancing in his palm as he did so.
"I am not killing him!" Laxus yelled. "I will not fuck his life up again. I already fucking ruined it because I was too shit scared to tell him I was in love with him and I am not going to be the one to give up on him now."
The room fell silent, and Laxus felt his words roll over him. Words he had been desperate to say for years, but terrified of the possibility of them being heard. One of the most bedrock, fundamental truths of who he was today had just been let go. Part of what made him the man he had become was now out.
He was in love with Freed, and this room of people who were willing to cut Freed down now knew it.
"Laxus," Levy said softly. "Put the sword down for a moment please."
"You're not having it," Laxus snarled, feeling backed up against the wall now. Cornered in. Trapped.
"Okay, just look down at the blade for me then," Levy continued. Laxus did as he was told and saw purple runic letters glowing on the blade. The sparks when he'd held. Freed's magic. "That's a truth spell catered just for you. When you hold it, you can't lie. It won't force you to speak, but anything you do say will be honest. So maybe you'd like to put it down."
He should. That would be smart. But he held it closer. "I'm not giving up on him."
"That's not what we're asking you to do," Lucy insisted. "But, well…"
"If you had to," Erza said firmly. "If there was no other choice. If Freed is taken by the demon, or forced to live in a hell where he can't move, can't think straight, and can't escape the demon's influence, could you do it? Could you kill him if it would set his soul free?"
Laxus let out a long, shaky breath, and fuelled by the runes that forbade him from lying, said the cruellest thing he'd ever said.
"Yes."
——
Why hadn't he left?
Makarov had begged him to leave.
None of this should have happened. He shouldn't have allowed a mage like Freed to go on a mission like that, with such an obvious end point. And he shouldn't have sent Laxus away, not when he knew how prone to self-destruction Laxus was. His mistakes piled up before him, and with trembling hands he reached for his desk draw and pulled it open.
The photograph of him and Laxus, before the world had tried to destroy them both, stared up at him. Laxus was so young, and vibrant, and innocent back then. He had hope for the world, not knowing it would destroy him.
And now, if this went how Makarov thought it would, his grandson would be made a killer.
Summary: When magic flares and runes are written, Freed is found in his home, wrapped up and trapped in his own magic. He’s partially transformed, his soul is rotting, and his eyes are dead. He’s left behind a puzzle of traps and a summons for the exiled Laxus Dreyar. A summons that, by all interpretations, would make Laxus his executioner.
Laxus refuses to kill the man he cares for more than anyone else. But with an untrusting guild, a mystery that seemed hell bent on not being solved, and the threat of slaughter ever looming, can Laxus do anything to save the man he loves before he must kill him with his own hands?
Notes: Again, I just want to thank everyone who commented, you really have no idea how much it helps keep me writing.
Link: Ao3, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter
Chapter Five: Reunion
"So, you're okay then? It'll heal quite quick?"
"I'm not really the priority right now, am I?" Bickslow scoffed, readjusting his position in the hospital bed slightly. The bruise on his back seemed to scream out at even the lightest of pressure, but lying on his front was driving him crazy. "Freed is."
Evergreen's unimpressed scoff echoed through the med bay, made louder than normal by the communication Lacrima's tinny speaker. She glared at him through the screen to further impress upon him how annoyed she was at Bickslow's response, and maybe if he were feeling less like crap then he'd try and bait her mood to worsen. But she was worried, and he was tired, and neither wanted to deal with his sense of humour.
"That's not what I asked," She insisted.
"I'm not important."
"Oh, aren't you indeed?" She snapped. "Well, one of my boys is in exile walking around who knows where, one of them is-" her breath hitched slightly, and she shook her head. "He's not well at the moment. And now you're bed bound with a fractured skull. So you'll forgive me if I want a little confirmation that at least you're doing okay."
Yeah, that was fair. "It was only a hairline fracture," he assured her. "And they ploughed me with so many healing spells that it's already healed up. I just need to stay in here while they monitor me."
"Monitor you medically, or monitor you like keeping you under lock and key?"
"Officially it's medically, but I'm pretty sure nobodies upset I can't leave without permission," he laughed weakly, and winced when his lower back twinged at the movement. "The knights weren't exactly happy I went passed their barricade and cast a spell on the super volatile mystery demon in the middle of town. Weird, huh?"
"Authority figures. You can never be sure what will set them off," Evergreen joked as best she could. "I shall say, Levy has gone up in my estimations after helping you. Perhaps when this is all blown over and we've kicked the crap out of Freed for worrying us, I could give her some fashion advice in thanks."
"Yeah, do that. The gals of the guild love it when you tell them how to dress."
"They'd love the results if they ever listened to me," she huffed again, and it dwindled into a stagnant moment of quiet. Even through the little Lacrima screen, Bickslow could see Ever worrying her lip and arguing with her own thoughts. One side must have won over pretty quick, because she leant back into her train seat and quietly asked, "what's he look like?"
They'd pretty much avoided this so far. But they had to talk about it, didn't they?
"Not good," he admitted honestly. "It's, erm… there's a lot of magic. He's in a load of his own traps, Levy says there's hundreds in there. And there's these… it's like rope made of runes. He's tied himself up so much that he can't move at all. Like he's stretching himself out. It hurt to look at, honestly. Like looking dead straight into a flashlight." He swallowed, throat feeling tight suddenly. He wouldn't cry, not again. Ever wouldn't handle it. "And he's maybe half way transformed into Darkness. His neck was all, sort of scaley and-"
"Okay, that's enough!" Ever snapped, before wincing. "Sorry. That wasn't aimed at you. Just…" She waved her hands around, motioning at everything.
"I get it."
"And his soul? Did you check on it? Were you allowed?"
"I saw it," reaching for the glass of water by his bed. He took a sip as if that might sooth his throat, but it didn't. Obviously. "He's still there. Fighting."
"Fighting? You think Darkness is overtaking him?"
"Maybe. If not Darkness, then something is." Whatever that snake had been, coiling itself around Freed's soul and rotting it beyond recognition, it was alive in some way. "But Freed always said that Darkness had a slither of sentience, right? Like a whispering you had to tune out. Levy said that every rune she's been able to understand points to it being a cage he's set up for himself. Seems intentional, and smart, so he probably did it himself, not whatever it is that's trying to ruin his soul."
"A cage…" Ever repeated contemplatively. Sadly. "He Probably wouldn't have set up a cage if he thought this fight was one that he'd win, would he?"
"I don't think so," Bickslow whispered.
"What's the guild saying? Is there some, oh I don't know, demon mage expert coming that can help?"
"They haven't said anything."
"Well, they must have. How did they react when you told them?" When her demand wasn't answered, she all but gaped at him. "Bix, this isn't the time to play keep away with intel. Tell them what's happening and make them-"
"They don't trust him! Or us. Not really," Bickslow cringed at his own tone, so defeated and tired and sad. "Well, some of them do, kind of. Levy does, at least. And Lucy, maybe. Not sure. But they're looking at Freed and seeing some kind of trap, or bargaining chip. They think he wants to get Laxus back in the guild so bad that he's threatening to, who knows, blow up the town or some crap!"
"He's the one who convinced Laxus leaving would be the best thing for him to do!"
"I know that! But they don't. Feels like the old man is determined to see this in the worst way he can. Wouldn't even let me near him. Levy basically had to sneak me in."
"Well, at least one of them subscribes to the whole forgiveness mantra we're supposedly famous for."
"You can't exactly blame them after what we did."
"When Freed might die, I'll blame whoever I want." She tried to make it sound angry, Bickslow thought, but really, she just sounded sad. "Well, according to the station master, I should be back in Magnolia in a little over a day. When I'm there we can regroup, and I can tell some people exactly what I think of them, and then we can figure out what we need to do."
"Course we will," Bickslow agreed. "Must be late, right? You get some sleep on that fancy ass private cabin. Don't wanna waste all that money, do we?"
"A woman deserves luxury," Evergreen sniffed. "See you soon, Asshat."
"Later, Queen."
The Lacrima screen shut off, and Bickslow was left alone in a cold, quiet medical bay. Freed was on the brink of death, Laxus was travelling in the far reaches of the country, and Evergreen had always been more adventurous than he was, wanting to see the farthest reaches of the world. Perhaps he should get used to being lonely. That might be his future soon.
Only then did he feel the tears falling again.
——
"So essentially, he's been hit by a spell that makes him lose control of his impulses, and the demon he's merged with is taking advantage of that," Mirajane explained to the small, gathered crowd in the guildhall. "He must have known that that was happening and cordoned himself off from the world before he could do anything. But we don't know how long that will hold, or what specific failsafe's he's put in place, but we have to assume that this isn't something we can just leave."
Mirajane had been the one called upon to explain everything. Lucy, though sat at the back of the meeting, was still working on finding any information she could to fix things, and Levy wasn't sure of her standing with Makarov after letting Bickslow past the barricade. Mirajane was the obvious choice.
Before her, Makarov sat in the middle of the guild, letting nothing show on his face. Erza and Laki were there, having been the ones to find Freed, were obviously called in case they could help. Levy sat at the back, bracketed by her teammates who clearly knew that she was a little shaken after seeing what had happened with Bickslow, which she blamed herself for. Elfman, Gajeel and Gray were there too, having been given scraps of information but never the full picture before. Natsu was meant to be there but, well, nobody but Mira and Lucy needed to know what he was doing right now.
Also absent, thankfully, were any runic nights. They would only muddy the water, and nobody needed that right now.
"And we're sure this is what's happening?" Erza asked. "I can see why you think, but we can't act like it's a certainty."
"After what happened with Bickslow, he had some magical particles thrown into him. Levy saw it happen. Well, Porlyusica syphoned them all out of him and we were able to contain and identify them," she motioned towards a small, enchanted test tube she'd set up. "It's a strain of dark magic that's entirely in keeping with the mage Freed wrote about in his mission notes. It's also not anywhere near close to Freed's own magic, so we can be sure that he was hit by the mage he was sent to apprehend, and it was laying dormant for a few days. We're confident that this is what's happening."
"So we cure him, take the runes down, and it's done right?" Jet asked from the back row. "Not too bad."
"We don't know if there's a cure. Freed's notes are basically all we know about this magic so far, and he said there was no obvious, consistent reason for why the people who could break over the spell were able to," Mirajane sighed. "We've sent a message to the county jail where the mage is being held, but we haven't gotten a reply."
"Can't we send a couple knights over to hurry them up?" Elfman suggested.
"We're hoping to keep the knights out for now. They're very… reactionary," Mirajane explained as best she could, hoping she wouldn't have to point out that the knights were shambolically incompetent when dealing with delicate matters. "Lucy's looking into the magical strain to see if there's a way to reverse it that Freed didn't realise, and Levy is making sure the runes he set up are strong and maintained."
"We can't leave him like that, though," Gray argued. "Either he's a ticking time bomb, or he's basically a sentient coma patient with a demon screaming at him. If he's set this whole thing up, he must have given himself a way out, right?"
Mirajane didn't answer immediately. She didn't want to. Because Freed had given them a way out, and it was one that she didn't even want to consider. He'd left a message for Levy, calling Laxus. And he'd mentioned in his mission notes – which he'd once confessed that he knew Lucy read and found it flattering – the only surefire way to stop someone from being under the magic's influence. He'd essentially teed up his own death and called for Laxus to be the one to strike the final blow.
Freed couldn't be killed because of this. Mirajane wouldn't allow it. She and Freed had become friends, of a sort, since the battle of Fairy Tail. He was odd. He was obnoxious. He kept his cards close to his chest. She saw a lot of herself in him, and knew that there had to be some way to fix this. There had to be.
But she wasn't stupid, either, and knew that she couldn't hide this.
"He left a message on the outer most enchantment, calling for Laxus to be summoned, and for him to be given Freed's sword."
"To what end?" Erza asked, her hand twitching slightly in the way it did when she summoned a sword.
"Well, and we're not sure if this is what he wants, but his notes did suggest that, well, that the only surefire way to get rid of the curse is for the person to be… killed," her voice broke on the word, and the group seemed to sit up. "We think that maybe Freed asked for Laxus to come because he trusts him to do it. We're not sure-"
"No," Makarov said firmly.
"Master," Erza began. "If the evidence is pointing this way-"
"I said no," Makarov yelled, hand lurching and stretching forward to smash into the chalkboard Mirajane had set up to explain everything. He winced as it clattered to the floor, then slowly walked to the little stage to speak to the whole group. "We are going to keep looking at other avenues that do not end in murder, and we will be vigilant in making sure the runes hold until we find a way to fix this. Laxus Dreyar is not to be involved in this at all!"
"But-"
"He is not to be involved. He is not to be hunted or contacted. He is not to step foot in this town."
Everyone in the guild looked cowed, if unhappy. All but Lucy, who looked guilty. Mira prayed she would school her expression before Makarov saw it, but the guild master was as vigilant as he was interchangeable. He zeroed in on her, and Mira knew that there was no hope in keeping the secret any longer.
"What is it?" Makarov insisted. "Tell me."
"Well, the thing is," Lucy began, guilt practically pouring from her. "Earlier, I was with Natsu, and he sort of… heard lightning. And apparently it sounded exactly like Laxus' lightning sounds when he-"
When Makarov went running towards the guild's main door, Mirajane followed him. She didn't know what they were walking into, but she had a feeling they would need a lot of damage control.
——
"I really shouldn't be doin' this, y'know. It's gonna piss a lot of people off."
Laxus had to wonder when Natsu had started caring about pissing people off, but he didn't voice it. After Natsu was apparently sure that Laxus didn't know what was happening with Freed, he'd called off their fight – a rarity with the idiot – and said that he'd take Laxus to see Freed, but he couldn't ask any questions, and he had to keep quiet. When Laxus had demanded to know why, Natsu had withdrawn his offer, and Laxus had been forced to grovel to get it back.
They'd made their way around Magnolia quietly, taking back alleys and hiding from the knights that were patrolling. Magnolia had never had such an imposing presence of authority before, and Laxus was desperate to know why the hell they were there. But questions would get Natsu pissy, and Laxus couldn't risk that.
What the hell was happening? How was this related to Freed?
They were getting closer to Freed's house, and Laxus felt his insides clenching. In the latter years of his time in Magnolia, there were very few places he actually liked being. Freed's tiny, annoying, quirky little house was one of them. It's old furniture, creaky staircase, and ridiculously low doorframe somehow made it charming, if not annoying to get around. There had been a lot of good times spent in that house, and Laxus had a horrible feeling that he wasn't going to like what he saw when he got to it.
"Up here," Natsu whispered, nodding towards a fire escape ladder on the side of one of the buildings.
"Why?"
"They've doubled up the guards since Bix got thrown around, so now the only way in is from above," Natsu explained as he climbed the ladder, not waiting for Laxus to follow him.
Once they were on the roof, Natsu nodded in the direction of Freed's house, and Laxus could see the rooftop. There were tiles missing, and a magical hum coming from it that had the hairs on the back of his neck rising. Laxus had no idea what the hell was happening in there, but he had to use all of his self-restraint to not fly there now and see.
"The knights are really tetchy right now, so we've got two options," Natsu explained. "Either we go to the roof on the other side of the street and look in from there, or we land down on the street and take as much time as we can before they haul us away and beat our asses for trespassing."
"Why would they do that?"
Natsu gave him a long look. "You really don't know what's going on, do you?"
"You could tell me," Laxus snapped.
"I honestly don't think I could," Natsu looked away. "Come on, let's go."
Natsu took a running jump, and leapt from the rooftop towards the next. Laxus followed, and they leapt from building to building, getting closer and closer to Freed's house. The magical presence in the air got thicker and thicker, and Laxus found himself clenching and unclenching his fist as a way to distract himself from the looming presence of foreboding, Whatever was happening with Freed, whatever had been done to him, Laxus would tear down the world to fix it.
They reached the roof across the street from Freed's house, and Laxus' breath hitched at the sight. Freed was in there, somehow Laxus knew that for sure. The house was in disrepair, it was leaking with magic, and Freed was inside.
Ignoring Natsu's warning that the guards would jump on them the moment they were seen, Laxus jumped from the roof and used his magic to soften the landing. He heard Natsu land next to him but didn't look. Illuminated by the purple glow of the half-ruined house, Laxus slowly walked forward, heart hammering and legs shaking slightly as he did. He walked to the window and saw Freed for the first time in months.
He was hurting.
That was all Laxus could think. Freed was hurting so much, and Laxus knew it. His limbs were hurting and his eyes were hurting and his heart was hurting. He was trapped and hurting, and all Laxus could do was look. Look upon his magically crucified friend in limp, hopeless horror.
People were shouting, somewhere in the background. Natsu was talking too, but not to Laxus. Laxus was entirely entranced by Freed, and his horrific, beautiful, awful state. He needed to get him out. To get him safe and hold him tight, protecting him from the strain and brutality of the world. To treat him well, make up for his mistakes, and stop him from ever being in a position like this again.
Freed was hurting, and Laxus would fix it.
Without thinking, Laxus raised his hand and pressed it flat on the runes. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the runes, breathing slowly, trying to feel for Freed in any way he could. He needed to know he was okay. Needed to know that Freed was within reach, and safe, and his. He needed to know there was hope.
A judder of magic gusted out of the house. Laxus staggered back, fast enough to see the front door of the house flying open with a deep thud against the wall. The runes shifted, and in a language Freed had once taught Laxus, were two words.
Summary: When magic flares and runes are written, Freed is found in his home, wrapped up and trapped in his own magic. He’s partially transformed, his soul is rotting, and his eyes are dead. He’s left behind a puzzle of traps and a summons for the exiled Laxus Dreyar. A summons that, by all interpretations, would make Laxus his executioner.
Laxus refuses to kill the man he cares for more than anyone else. But with an untrusting guild, a mystery that seemed hell bent on not being solved, and the threat of slaughter ever looming, can Laxus do anything to save the man he loves before he must kill him with his own hands?
Notes: Again, thank you for the lovely comments and reblogs, you’ve no idea how how much they help with writing this thing. Hope you enjoy the chapter
Link: Ao3, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter
Chapter Four: Danger
Having never worked with Levy before, Bickslow wasn't familiar with her game. The way she managed to flip a switch and go from her steadfast, mission focused intensity to the perfect picture of scholarly bashfulness was impressive. The guards blocking access to Hollow's Street clearly ate it up and let both her and Bickslow walk past the barricade without so much of a second glance.
Not wanting to test his luck, Bickslow forced himself to be quiet and slow as they walked to Freed's house. He did nothing that could make the guards twitchy, nothing to draw attention to himself, and nothing to make Levy reconsider her choice.
But when he saw Freed, that almost all went away.
It was revolting. Through the pleasant little window, he could see Freed mid transformation to his demonic form, suspended in the air by ribbons of runes and trapped by thick walls of rules. His limbs were stretched and pulled into obviously agonising length, scorch and tear marks marred his visible skin, and the only thing parting the blood on his face was the tracks laid by tears.
The house was decimated from the inside, and Bickslow had to assume the bricks were only held in place by the runes. Rooms where Bickslow had laughed, joked, and slept now lay as rubble below Freed. He could see the remnants of that stupid, lumpy couch that Freed always refused to replace because it technically was still a fine piece of furniture even if it was hell to sleep on when staying over. His weird ancient book collection would be in there, too, burned into ashes. Freed had been amassing that for years, and it would just be gone.
Wanting nothing more than to scream, and wail, and destroy, Bickslow looked away. Maybe that was cowardly, but he couldn't do anything else. He dropped himself down onto the cobbles and let his head fall into his hands, breaths coming out in weak shudders.
"What's happened to him?" He asked quietly.
"We really don't know," Levy explained, still looking at the house. "All we know really is that he did it to himself. The runes have his specific magical register."
"I don't know why he'd do this. He doesn't do things like this."
"I have a working theory, based on what this seems to be, but I really don't know anything for sure," Levy stepped closer to the house, hand grazing the nearest wall of runes. "I think he's made himself a prison. He's caged himself up."
"Why would he do that?"
"I'm not sure, but that has to be what it is," she made a motion with her hands, and the unfamiliar words on the outer most rune turned to common Fiorean script. "Every rune that's we've been able to translate is all about containment, not keeping things out. Usually there's a balance between what's inside the trap and what's outside of it. But here, that balance is uneven. We could probably break down the runes and have him out of there in an hour with how they're written."
"And you're not gonna do that?"
"He did this for a reason, and it's all so specific that I can't imagine that it's a mistake or a miscast spell."
No. Bickslow knew his friend well enough to know that he didn't make mistakes like this. Freed was mister self-restraint in everything he did, and he wouldn't let off this amount of magic if he wasn't entirely sure what was going to happen. And even if he was the type, the way everyone seemed to be acting about this, they wouldn't let Freed out anyway. Fuckers.
"Do we know if he's unconscious at least? That's better than him seein' all this crap, right?" He sighed, trying to find a bright side he knew didn't exist. Levy didn't answer. "He's awake."
"His eyes haven't closed once, not even to blink, as far as anyone's seen. And his pupils are moving. Watching. We think he's fully aware of everything."
Bickslow's throat constricted, and he spoke over a sob. "His eyes are gonna be hurting. They get dry pretty quickly already, and if he doesn't blink then they're only gonna get worse and-"
He cut himself off, and Levy dropped to the ground and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. He grasped onto her like a fleeting lifeline, and let himself sob for just a few moments, body shaking. His friend was in there, and hurting, and nobody knew what was happening and nobody wanted to help him enough to actually fix this!
"The, erm," he started again, voice hoarse. "The message about Laxus. What was it?"
"'Levy, find Laxus. He is the one to fix this. Get him, give him my sword, or I will soon break free and bring slaughter with me.' Evidentially he knew I would be called, so it seems like he's got sort of a plan," she pulled away, but kept a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "Do you know why he'd need Laxus of all people here?"
"No. I don't know anything about- I mean this doesn't make sense to me. None of it does. I didn't even know Freed had this much magic in him. I always assumed that he was holding back, but didn't ever see it."
Levy seemed to consider her words carefully. "And might Laxus have seen it?"
"No. I don't know. Maybe. They wee always kinda closer to each other than anyone else," he ran a hand over his face. "Honestly, if Laxus weren't too busy trying to force himself to think he's straight, I'd assume they were screwing around when no one was watching. I think they just vibe with each other and are too emotionally constipated to admit they like having a friend that can match their freak. Other than when they were plotting the whole," he gestured to the town at large, "thing, they barely spoke about missions and magic at all."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Played a lot of board games. Got really competitive. Once it ended up with Laxus pinning Freed to the wall telling him to admit to knocking the table on purpose. Freed kneed him in the balls then said his personal balance was as good as his Jenga towers' when Laxus was rolling around on the floor."
"Seriously?"
"You see why I think they should be fucking?" Bickslow laughed weakly. Then he sobbed again. "What if he's dead?"
"I don't think he's dead," Levy said, and it was meant to be comforting but it just didn't land. "I don't really understand your magic, but can't you see people's souls. Couldn't you maybe… check?"
He could check, of course. But he already shouldn't be here, and he shouldn't make things worse, and he didn't want to risk testing his luck by casting any magic. But what else could he do? What else was there to be done here if Freed was trapped in his own magic, and nobody else was going to help. If he could at least see Freed was alive then maybe he could at least give the guild the kick up the ass they needed to actually do something helpful.
Quietly, he rose and turned back to the house. As he looked through the window, he caught Freed's eyes on him. Manic pupils, but dead and lifeless, like a corpse. With a weak swallow, Bickslow met his friends gaze, channelled magic into his eyes, and cast a spell to reveal his soul.
A swirl of blackness so solid it marred his guts filled everything.
That was normal. Freed's soul, however, was not.
Every person's soul was different. A metaphorical construction of who they were, represented in identifiable objects. Freed's soul had always been his sword, lodged straight into the blackness of the aether. The hilt was the only difference, and it blended into a long, thin candle. The type held by the characters of a gothic horror novel. The flame lit up the blackness and offered the comfort and safety of a fundamentally good person.
But today was different. Something serpentine but not quite a snake was coiled around the sword, getting tighter and tighter. Flaking blood dripped from the blade, falling into nothingness and fizzling to dust. The creature climbed higher, and the candle was stained red and dripping with a noxious ooze. Only the flame, bright and typical, was as it should be.
That wouldn't last forever. Not for long.
Bickslow knew what this was, and it repulsed him. A soul that was rotting, and dying, and being overthrown by something evil and wrong. Something was trying to take over Freed. To dominate and overwhelm him, and Freed had known it. But what? How had he known? What was the plan Freed had put in place?
'No.' A voice, noxious and taunting hammered the word into his brain. 'You do not belong here now. He is mine.'
"You fucking think?" Bickslow challenged.
'Yes. I do.'
And then, Bickslow was flying back, and only the feeling of his skull hitting a brick wall at speed broke him out of his spell.
——
"Y'know, maybe I'm just being dumb about this," Natsu posited, his hands engulfed in flames as he walked forward. "But I kinda remember you not being allowed back in this town. Something about trying to make us all hurt each other and then threatening to kill all of us. That was you, right? 'Cause I remember it being you."
Laxus had expected trouble when he came back to Magnolia, but why did it have to be Natsu?
The kid had a point, but Laxus wasn't in the mood to have his buttons pushed today. He'd shown respect to the town by landing in the outskirts and walking in, rather than storming down in the middle of the guildhall and demanding to know where Freed was. He could have done that, perhaps he even should have, but in an act of good faith he'd walked through the town's streets without a hint of magic coming from him.
They must have been expecting him, given how he'd barely been in town for two minutes before Natsu swaggered up to him ready for a fight. It would be satisfying to pound his head into the road. Laxus hadn't really stretched his muscles since his exile, and he wouldn't deny that he would enjoy getting into a fight.
But tact, in this situation, had to win out.
"I don't wanna be here as much as you don't want me here," he said, trying to hide his irritation. "But I just need to see-"
"Freed? Yeah, we know about his little summons. Don't exactly know how he got it to you since barely anyone else knows about it," Natsu scoffed, and it was hard to fight back the thoughts telling Laxus that maybe he'd had a point in taking over the guild from the likes of Natsu and his irritating little friends. Natsu kept going before Laxus could let the thoughts fully form though. "I don't know why you think we'd let you near him now, after what he's done."
What he'd done? "What has he done?"
"Why don't you tell me?" Natsu pushed. "You're the one who he called, right? We've all got our theories. Me, personally, I think he's still in your pocket and this is all a big threat. Holding the town to ransom to get you back in the guild. That amount of magic's pretty dangerous. And he could put on a show of looking trapped. Bet he can get out at any time he wants."
"The hell are you talking about?" Laxus demanded.
"Like you don't know. He's in his house looking like he's trapped in his own runes as if he couldn't unwrite them. We don't even know what they do a few layers in. I keep thinking, what if it's a bomb? And you're here to detonate it."
The hell was the idiot talking about? "Freed wouldn't do that!"
"Little hard to believe when, like, ten weeks ago there were a load of floating bombs above the town that you two set up."
"Just tell me what's happening!" Laxus demanded, patience tested hard now.
"This whole clueless dumbass look doesn't exactly suit you," Natsu grinned. "Actually, it kinda does. Blonde meathead who gets angry all the time. Maybe that's-"
Propelled by lightning, Laxus slammed Natsu into the nearest wall. He brought a hand to the brat's throat and clenched it tight, lightning sparking and scorching at his skin with flickering intensity. This was different to the last time they'd fought. Laxus was better now. He could fight with a clear head, not muddied by anger and resentment, and instead fuelled by a goal. He needed to get to Freed, to know what was happening, and he would not let anyone get in his way.
"Tell me what the hell is happening with Freed," Laxus threatened, nails digging in deep enough to breach skin. "Or I will hurt you. You understand me?"
Natsu looked at him, then sniffed, then closed his eyes. "You really don't know, do you?" He asked, then deflated in Laxus' grasp. "Aw, crap."
——
"He'll be fine. But it won't help me if you're dithering about getting underfoot," Porlyusica snapped at Levy, practically pushing her out of the guild's med bay as she spoke. "If you care that much about him, you can come back in the morning when he will be awake and alert enough to appreciate it. Before then, get out."
The door to the med bay was slammed in her face, leaving Bickslow's unconscious body to the medic's care. It was the best place for him to be, Levy knew, but she didn't like leaving him there. Not when it was her who suggested he cast the spell.
She'd known it was a mistake the moment Bickslow started to cast it. The colour of his magic was off slightly, but before she could stop him, he was in a trance. Then he started to raise slowly in the air, floating limply almost in a symmetrical pose to Freed's. Then, a flurry of purple magic pushed him back, slamming him into the nearest wall. The sound of bone breaking snapped Levy out of whatever indecision that had overtaken her, and she called the guards to help her. They got him to the guild, thankfully, and Porlyusica overrode Makarov's demand Levy explain why Bickslow had been allowed near Freed.
The second she was out of the med bay, Mirajane all but pounced on her and quickly guided her to a side room. "The master wants to yell at you, I'm afraid. But I need to speak with you before that."
She took Levy to the records room, which she locked behind her. Lucy was there, leant over a table and reading an unrolled scroll with a frown. Levy looked at them both, waiting to know what they actually wanted.
"As simply as you can, tell us what Freed's done," Lucy asked in lei of a greeting. "We haven't seen it."
"He's put himself in a cage," Levy said, because that's truly what it looked like.
"Oh no," Mira whispered, and Lucy leant back in her chair, looking defeated.
"What? Why is that bad?" Levy asked.
Instead of answering, Lucy turned the scroll towards Levy, who quickly started to read it. It was of Freed's last mission, that he'd only just gotten home from, and spoke of taking down a low-level dark mage who had been bothering a town in the south. Apparently, his spell made people act on their first thoughts without thinking about the consequences. People were stealing from markets, cheating on their partners, starting fights. Freed had caught the wizard and handed them over to the local authorities.
The moment she looked up, Lucy started answering the questions that Levy wanted to ask. "The wizard was hard to discover because his spell took time to show itself. Nobody could point out who was cursing them. Freed happened to see it, and realised it took nine days to take effect."
"Okay?" Levy asked.
"The time frame fits. Freed fought him nine days before he trapped himself in the house."
Levy let it bounce around her head. "So, the dark mage hit him, and his first thought was to trap himself in his house? That's not too bad, is it? We can just undo it and ask him why he wanted to seclude himself from the world. Maybe suggest a therapist or something?"
"I don't think he trapped himself because the magic was working, I think he did it as to stop himself from doing whatever he would do when he lost control," Mirajane explained. "Demon magic, the price comes in temptation. I have this thing – I'm sure he has it too – where a little voice tells you to do something bad. Not big things, at first. Steal something. Wreck something. Hurt something. Not much. Not so bad anyone would mind, really, but just something a little bad. A sin you could forgive yourself for."
"Right. That makes sense."
"Well, normally it's easy to ignore. Just a part of being alive. But if you indulge, that voice gets louder, and the sins get worse. A beating instead of a punch. Stealing something based on how much the owner loves is, rather than how much it costs. That sort of thing. And it spirals. It snowballs out of control, getting worse and worse each time."
"And if Freed couldn't stop himself from doing whatever his first thought was, which would always be the demonic thought…" Levy let the thought linger, implications clear.
"If nobody was able to stop him," Mirajane whispered. "The town would be a slaughterhouse before the day was done."
The three sat in the realisation. Freed was a powerful man, and if he was constantly forced to make the most immoral and cruel choice a demon could think of, then it would be a literal massacre. He'd known, somehow, that this was coming and had trapped himself in enough runes to topple a city. Not a moment too soon, if his half-transformed state was anything to go by. He'd saved them, and then he'd…
"He wants Laxus," Levy said, frowning. "He left a message for me, asking for Laxus. He said to give Laxus his sword, too. Why?" Lucy and Mirajane shared a worried glance, and Levy huffed. "What?"
"In his notes," Lucy began. "He says that there is no surefire, repeatable way to make sure a victim is no longer under the effects of the spell. And that if anyone is presenting too much of a danger to others, then the cleanest way to assure safety is…"
Lucy couldn't say it, but Mirajane could. "It's to kill them."
Levy's eyes blew wide. Freed wanted Laxus. He wanted Laxus to be given his sword. "Surely he doesn't want Laxus to…"
"I think so," Mirajane said sadly. "I think he knew exactly what he's capable of doing, and I think he's summoned his own executioner."
Levy leant back, breathed out slowly, and quietly whispered, "Fuck."
Summary: When magic flares and runes are written, Freed is found in his home, wrapped up and trapped in his own magic. He’s partially transformed, his soul is rotting, and his eyes are dead. He’s left behind a puzzle of traps and a summons for the exiled Laxus Dreyar. A summons that, by all interpretations, would make Laxus his executioner.
Laxus refuses to kill the man he cares for more than anyone else. But with an untrusting guild, a mystery that seemed hell bent on not being solved, and the threat of slaughter ever looming, can Laxus do anything to save the man he loves before he must kill him with his own hands?
Notes: Just want to thank the people who've written nice things about this fic. This more mystery/plot based fic is new for me and I'm hoping it works, so comments are really helping me keep going with it.
Link: Ao3, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter
Chapter Three: Emotions
Sitting in Makarov's office, Bickslow couldn't remember a time he'd felt angrier than this.
He didn't show his anger; he never had really. But those who knew him could see it. They could see the sharpness in how his leg was bouncing, could see how quiet he was being even with his breathing, and could see the way his eyes would stay steady on whoever had put him in this mood. Currently, they wouldn't leave Makarov, and if looks could kill then the old man would have keeled over days ago.
They wouldn't let him see Freed. In the three days since whatever had happened had happened, they wouldn't let him anywhere near Freed's house. They wouldn't tell him anything. Wouldn't even let him know if he was alive. They just said they were monitoring the situation.
Wooden barricades were still surrounding the entire street, and now the rune army had come to block every alleyway they thought someone might use. There was no vantage point that Bickslow could use to actually see inside of Freed's house to get even the slightest idea as to what was happening. All he knew was that a lot of people were 'monitoring' the situation, and that there was a ridiculous amount of magic lashing out of Freed's house.
Apparently, it was nothing to do with him. He should go home, and ignore the fact that members of the guild were following him home and trying to go unnoticed as they did it. Lie low, and let it pass him by, as if his friend wasn't in enough danger that the Grand Magic Council felt the need to get involved.
He wished Ever was here, and not on that stupid mission. She was always better at getting things done than him. She promised she'd be back soon, but travelling took time and Bickslow was running out of patience.
"BIckslow," Makarov said as Levy – who had been allowed near Freed's house because apparently the master's favourites got preferential treatment – came into the office. "Could we have the room?"
"Don't think so, no."
Makarov sighed, as if he were in anyway the most hard done by right now. "I really think it would be best if you just let us and the knights-"
"Sit on your asses and do nothing?"
"-assess and work on the situation without your interference." He leant back in his chair, and maybe Bickslow was deluding himself when he thought he saw the old man squirming a little. "This is a very delicate situation on all sides, and you have to admit that whatever it is you want to do, you'll be doing with some bias."
"I'm biased?" Bickslow exclaimed. "Are you kidding me? You pretty much had me frogmarched from my apartment in the middle of the night by the least subtle jailors in history, who basically openly accused me of this being some kind of evil plot that I'm in on. If that's how you're thinking about me, then what the hell are you thinking about Freed? You giving him the benefit of the doubt? Or is it easier to just write him off when things get tough? I mean, you did it with your own grandkid, right? And who really cares about Freed? Doesn't drink and get into fight and laugh about dumb crap like the rest of the guild, so is he really worth keeping around?"
"That's enough!"
"You know what's really messed up? You won't even tell me if he's alive, and I know why," Bickslow stood up, pacing. "Because you still think this is something we're doing, or we're trying to take over the guild, right? You think I'm pretending not to know anything, and if you keep me in the dark then I have to keep pretending. That's it, right? Well, here's all I know." The old bastard actually sat forward. "I know my best friend went off like a magical explosion. I know that no one's letting me near him. I know that I'm scared for my friend and you're making it worse."
He was crying, he realised. Not much. Not even so much that it could really be considered crying. But his eyes hurt and his throat was dry and he just wanted to tear down the world to get to his friend.
As he collapsed back into the chair, Levy placed a hand on his knee. It was a comforting gesture, he realised, and fought back the urge to snap at her. He didn't like that being angry was becoming a default for the past few days.
"He's alive, Bickslow," she said softly. "He is."
"Levy," Makarov murmured warning.
"Is he okay?" Bickslow insisted.
"No. He's not, I'm sorry," Her honesty, though not what Bickslow wanted to hear, was refreshing.
Levy reached into her satchel and pulled out a notebook. Letters and digits from all sorts of languages were scratched over the opened page, and it reminded Bickslow of Freed when he was in a translation mindset. The memory of him surrounded by books looking entirely content made Bickslow's chest ache a little.
"The outer most rune was weird," Levy said, more to Makarov now, but Bickslow listened in, nonetheless. "It was the weakest trap I've ever seen. Even a child with magic could had overwhelmed it and dispelled it. But I think that was the point, for it to be so weak that we had to take notice of it."
"A distraction?" Makarov guessed.
"No. A message. To, erm, to me," she pointed to the bottom of the page, which Bickslow tried to take a look at, but Makarov snatched it away before he could. "The runes just had a message on it. A simple cypher on a simple language. Most people wouldn't know what to do with it, but anyone who knows anything about languages and puzzle solving could figure it out in five minutes, which I think he must have known. And, well, the message is pretty succinct, right?"
Makarov seemed to read the message. Again and again. "No."
"We can't discount it," Levy pushed. "I know you're cautious, and I understand why, but this doesn't seem like a trap. You saw what he looked like. It looks like the only person who's in anyway negatively affected by this is himself."
"What does he look like?" Bickslow demanded. "Is he hurt?"
Levy spared Makarov a glance, as if asking for permission, before seemingly deciding she didn't want it. "He's… I think he'd sort of trapped himself. The house is full of as many runic barriers as it could fit. And they're around him like rope. He's floating in the air and unmoving. It's like he's put himself in a cage."
"We can't discount the possibility that he just wants us to think he's trapped."
"Nor can we discount the possibility that he might be," Levy insisted. "That message reads like a warning, doesn't it?"
"Or a threat," Makarov argued back. "He's always been something of an unknown entity to the guild, and has never been too willing to compromise on what he wants. This could very well be him saying 'give me what I want or people will die.'"
"Or it could be him saying 'something bad is going to happen and I can't stop it, but Laxus can and I trust him to do it.'" Levy suggested, and Bickslow's head snapped up at Laxus' name, but Levy went on before he could interrupt her. "If we give him the benefit of the doubt, then what's actually happened. Freed caged himself in an unbreakable paradox of runes, left a clear message warning of possible danger should he be left unchecked, and gave instructions on what to do about it. That doesn't seem evil or untrusting to me."
"But we can't ignore that, just two months ago, he unleashed a mass of magic onto this town to get his way. To get Laxus' way. And now he's using huge amounts of magic again, with the goal of getting Laxus back into the guild, and he openly states there will be slaughter if that doesn't happen."
Bickslow scoffed. "The forgiveness well really ran dry with us, huh?"
Makarov turned to Bickslow. "I'm not trying to be unkind, I'm really not, but he and Laxus did have something of an… intense relationship. He went along with Laxus' plans once before. It's not too hard to believe that he'd do anything Laxus asked another time."
"You don't know anything about him, do you?" Bickslow exhaled slowly, and stood up again. "And you don't know anything about Laxus either. Not who he is now. But let me tell you, Freed was never blindly following Laxus' orders, or any other crap like that. And if Freed wasn't in Laxus' ear all that time, I honestly think this town would be a crater. Think about that before you make accusations."
"Bickslow, I have to be cautious. Freed is powerful, and with so many unknowns-"
"Why don't you leave us unknowns alone, huh?" Bickslow snapped as he walked to the door. "Go back to focusing on the guildmembers you like."
Bickslow was out of the office before Makarov could say anything, walking past Lucy, who was clearly listening in at the door, and out of the guildhall. Someone would be following him again, because apparently, he was a criminal now, but he didn't care. Hell, maybe it was good. Maybe a fight would help him work off some of this anger.
Halfway down the street, he heard running coming towards him. He had to slow himself down as Levy tried to catch up with him – damn she was short compared to him, tiny legs – and when he did, he gave her a sad look. She'd been helping him, and arguing Freed's side, but he was tired.
"Look, I appreciate you fighting his corner, but I just wanna be alone right now."
"I can get you to his house," She said quietly, hooking her arm into Bickslow's and walking him towards Hollow's Street. "I can go to it anytime I want. I'll just tell the guards you're permitted to come with me. But quickly, just in case."
And thus, not including his own team, Levy McGarden became Bickslow's favourite member of Fairy Tail.
----
Lucy really hadn't meant to be listening to the conversation. But it was very loud, and very interesting, so she could barely be blamed. Seeing Bickslow like that – with all his laughter and teasing parting for what felt like genuine fear – was weird. And she sort of knew Makarov could be brutal in his honesty when needs be but getting a front row seat to it was disconcerting.
She found it a little unfair, honestly.
Freed was weird, and intense, and they hadn't had the best of first meetings, but she didn't think he was evil. Growing up as she did, she knew the worst attribute a person could have in polite society was being awkward. So awkward people bottled it up, smothered it down, and it came out sideways. Freed, to her, was one of those people.
He was also diligent. Obsessively so, she could argue.
Most people, after completing a mission, did the bare minimum of paperwork. Freed would practically write a novel for everything he did, giving a detailed and clear play by play of every mission he'd ever been on. Lucy maybe snuck into the records room and read through them when she was bored. He had a way with words, and a moral code that allowed him to be ruthless when he needed to be. His mind was a tricky place, but even with just the facts, it was clear he was trying to do what was best, even if he was willing to go to pretty extreme lengths to get there.
Honestly, she'd been gearing herself up to showing Freed her novel. He had an eye for pace and diction, and she was pretty sure he wouldn't pull punches if it was lacking something. But then he'd gone on his mission, returned, and now all of this was happening.
But, Natsu had said he'd come back to the guild before whatever this was had begun. He'd tried to goad Freed into a fight, and later bemoaned how Freed was stuck up and boring for denying him.
Had he written out what had happened on that mission?
Would anyone have checked that?
Other than when Lucy snuck out a mission log for bedtime reading, the reports mainly just sat tucked away gathering dust. People barely remembered they existed after writing them and sending them off. It couldn't hurt to check.
She walked past Makarov's office quietly, and spared a quick glance at him as she did. He looked tired. It must be hard for him, she thought. As much as she was currently in the pro-Freed side of things, she understood why he was cautious. After what the Raijinshuu and Laxus had done, confidence in the guild and indeed his leadership had been shaken. With this, people would be demanding answers, and if Makarov was seen to be too kind towards Freed and too willing to dismiss people's fears, someone else would take over. Someone who wouldn't go in with doubt, but with weapons.
Later, once she'd rummaged around the files room for Freed's latest mission log, she'd do something that would cheer Makarov up. Something that let him know that at least she understood his position.
Right now, though, she had a mission. Intel gathering, and using a bit of sneakiness to get it. She could be sneaky when she wanted to be; it was just that she was normally surrounded by some of the loudest people alive. But now she was alone, and very sneaky indeed.
Well, maybe not so sneaky. Not with Mirajane watching her from the bar, frowning.
----
Laxus had grown used to walking long, abandoned roads since his exile, and really this should be no different. The only change was the direction. For the past two months he had been walking away from Magnolia – away from who he had been, from who he had hurt, and who he could never be – and towards the hopes of a new life.
Now though, he was going back. Going home.
And all because Freed fucking Justine had given him an unforgettable dream ladened with guilt and teasing and the promise of something awful. Laxus had to return, to be sure that Freed was okay. People would yell, and demand he leave, and probably throw spells at him for returning. But he would endure that. He was loyal to very few people, he'd recently realised, but that loyalty ran deep and burned bright.
But getting to him was taking too long. Way too long.
After days of walking, his patience snapped. One of the few people Laxus actually cared about had sent him a cryptic, sombre message and Laxus had no idea what the hell he was walking into. He just knew he was walking. And walking. And still fucking walking.
Lightning scattered down his arm, and he clenched his fist to dispel it. He didn't use his magic much anymore. It didn't feel right, somehow. Disrespectful, maybe. He wasn't quite sure.
He did use it sometimes. When he was in danger. Freed might be in danger now, and Laxus could use his power to get to him quicker. It would cut down on the endless, tedious walking. The endless, tedious walking that seemed to drag out ever further, bogged down by the pressure to push away the thoughts that he didn't want to think about.
Like how Freed could be in danger.
Like how Laxus could have been there to protect him if he hadn't fucked everything up.
Like how the bedroom of the dream Freed had entered was the perfect amalgamation of the two of them and would cater to both of their needs.
Like how clearly Freed was meant to be the one who had made him cum like a beast.
Like how that wasn't the first dream that had happened in.
Lightning enveloped him, and he shot through the sky towards Magnolia.
