all about Freed x [insert character]. popular and rare ships, otps and ot3s, brotps and frenemies - all can be found in this treasure chest! follows from @freedjustineappreciation.
Or: The 5 Times Laxus Learned of a New Skill Freed Possessed, & The 1 Time He Fell Victim To Them
Summary: For the rest of the world, it had been seven years. For the members of Fairy Tail it had all been in the blink of an eye. But, for Laxus, that was more than enough time for his closest friend to seem like an entirely new person. This self assured, competent Freed was something new to Laxus, and he found himself enjoying it. Perhaps a little too much…
Note: The last chapter. There’s seduction, there’s kissing, there’s mentions of misusing chocolate. It’s got it all. Hope you all enjoy.
Links: Ao3, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
+1: Seduction
Laxus had gone through all possible ways that asking Freed out could go wrong. He could say no. He could laugh. He could be injured. He could reveal that he'd been seeing a man in secret for months now; he had been spending many of his evenings out of the apartment and wouldn't tell Laxus why. Laxus could end up making a complete fool of himself, and he'd never be able to think back without cringing to the point of screaming.
But not once had he anticipated this!
Who could have guessed that their apartment would have been robbed before he got the chance to do it!
That had to be what happened. He'd come back from a weeklong mission, resolute that he would stop bottling these feelings up and do something about it, and yet had unlocked the door to an empty apartment. The armchair was gone, the scattering of books that Freed had slowly been collecting were nowhere to be seen, and the kitchen was entirely devoid of anything at all. He stormed into the bedroom, to see that the bed was gone. After poking his head into the bathroom, even the shower products had been taken. The only thing left was the dining room table and chair, which had been the only thing not to belong to either Laxus or Freed.
There were no signs of a fight, so Freed couldn't have been there when it happened. But, well, if Freed had been there Laxus very much doubted the robbers would have managed to leave with all of their limbs attached, let alone the damn bed! Fuck: they didn't need this. Sure, Fairy Tail was getting more and more jobs, and they were starting to pay better, but there still wasn't enough to go around. Even with the money Freed made with his infrequent roles in the Ballet Society, they didn't have enough to cover the losses.
Groaning, he spun to look around the room. HIs gaze caught on something; a little hook on the back of the front door had something soft and colourful looking hanging off it. As he approached, he saw what looked to be a crocheted log cabin, with an envelope tucked behind it. He removed both, toying with the yarn creation as he opened the letter.
Map coordinates, written in Freed's handwriting.
Okay, so they likely hadn't been robbed if Freed had done this; unless of course Freed had lost his mind and been the person who had robbed them. Not entirely impossible, he could be eccentric when he wished to be. Laxus walked into the hallway, locked the door as if there were anything left to take, and started on walking to where the coordinates stated. That was one perk of being a mage; you had maps embedded in your memory. Freed was calling for him to go to one of the wooded areas outside of the town, about twenty minutes' walk away from the new Guildhall.
As he travelled, Laxus found himself absently playing with the yarn house. Its intricacies were well crafted, and Laxus wondered if maybe Freed had gotten better at crochet over the last few months, or if maybe this house just was his way of showing off. He pulled out the lightning bolt from his pocket - Freed had casted a rune on it that gave it a protective shield, and it was never off Laxus' person anymore - and compared the two. He preferred the lightning bolt. That was his and his alone. He had no idea what this little cabin meant.
When he arrived at the coordinates, he understood. Because, tucked in a halo of trees, was a large, lavish looking log cabin almost identical to the one Freed had made. Laxus gaped at it, then at Freed, who was sitting at a small patio table, whittling. Freed apparently whittled now, too.
"Freed," Laxus said cautiously, eyes flicking back to the cabin and not leaving it. "What the fuck is happening now?"
"Well, we're standing in the woods, there's a gentle breeze-"
"Freed!"
"I was sick of our living arrangements, and as such I've amended them," he gestured back to the cabin.
Laxus looked it all over again. It was two stories high, and pretty damn big. It had more space than anywhere Laxus had ever lived, with a balcony on the second floor. It was picturesque and idyllic and amazing. And it was also seemingly made entirely out of wood. Laxus couldn't help but think back to the few times he'd seen Freed doing any kind of DIY, and he always favoured using wood to fix whatever problem they were facing. He had even made his snappy little innuendo about being masterful at handling thick, hard wood. Or something to that meaning anyway; every time Laxus thought back to it he multiplied how filthy it had been, so the original phrasing was lost.
"If you're about to tell me," Laxus began slowly, walking towards Freed, "that you have built a house, then I'm not only gonna call bullshit on that, but I'm also gonna call bullshit on each and every one of these skills you've been showing off. Every one of them."
"Including the two examples of it that you're currently holding?" Freed mused. Laxus huffed, shoved his lightning bolt into his pocket and threw the yarn cottage at Freed's face. Freed caught it with a laugh. "No, Laxus. I did not build this house."
"Then... what the fuck?" He waved a hand at the building.
"I renovated a nearly dilapidated structure into something liveable," Freed pulled out some documents from his own coat pocket and placed them on the outside table. Laxus looked down at them - they were land and property ownership details - and gaped at the image. It was the same building before him, but covered in plants, with broken glass and large holes in the wall. Laxus might have got caught up on the difference between the picture and the reality of the building, but then he caught sight of how much the rundown cabin had cost.
"How the hell did you afford this?"
"I've placed myself into a sort of debt," Freed explained, and Laxus frowned. That didn't sound good. "Oh, nothing to worry about. The Ballet Society has plans for a new show, The Sleeping Beauty. There's a role in it - Prince Florimund - who is notoriously difficult to do. Their regular male lead isn't confident he can do six shows a week without burnout, so I've agreed to perform twice a week in exchange for them paying the costs for the house."
"You..." Laxus gaped at him, words failing. "You..."
"They've been very good about it. It doesn't need to be strictly twice a week, but instead average out into two sevenths of the shows, so I can still go on missions without trouble," Freed continued. "And it looks to be a fun role, rather challenging."
"You made this," Laxus pointed to the picture of the rundown cabin. "Into that?" He gestured to the luxury looking cabin. "On your own? Single handedly? Without anyone knowing, while also going on missions and dancing whenever they call you. You did that?"
"I tend to get restless," Freed shrugged, then turned and walked towards the open front door of the cabin.
Laxus followed, eyes flicking over the front of the building as it got closer.
Once inside, Laxus had to halt. He'd walked into a large living room with a spiral staircase leading up to the higher floor. It was only partially furnished, with two sofas - the frame made out of wood, but with large cushions for comfort - facing one another, with the media Lacrima between them. The coffee table that Freed had made for their apartment had been duplicated, so there was one next to either sofa. There was also a shoe holder, coat stand, and key holder beside the door. Laxus gaped as he looked around, his shoes clunking against the hardwood floors.
"I do like materials other than wood, I swear," Freed promised as he hooked a key on the hanger. "When we have the buying power, I anticipate we'll buy a lot of rugs and furniture that doesn't come from trees, but I'm best at woodwork and had more than enough wood left over after I cut some of the encroaching trees down."
"You cut them down?" Laxus gaped. "You know how to do that, too?"
Freed shrugged. "I can't begin to detail how bored I can get when I'm not working," he walked towards the staircase, and Laxus dutifully followed him. It was a sturdy thing, and Laxus assumed that Freed had made it. He might as well assume Freed had made anything and everything Laxus would see for the rest of his life, given how proficient Freed seemed to be. "There's five bedrooms, each with their own bathrooms. Only one has access to the balcony, and I've decided that I deserve it, so that's not up for debate."
"Seems fair," Laxus shrugged. "I assume you put in the bathrooms yourself after taking night classes for plumbing, right?"
"I was tempted," Freed laughed, showing Laxus to the hallway of six doors, with a large window at the end of it. "But, believe it or not, I accessed outside help. There's a tradesperson's school opened in town, and I contacted a teacher. I allowed five of their students full control over the bathrooms as practice, and they agreed to cover the costs. Juvia helped, too. Held back any wayward water when they made mistakes."
"It must have really hurt your pride having to let someone take control," Laxus teased, reaching for the closest door and opening it. A large, vacant room was shown, with a further door which must have led to the bathroom. "Five bedrooms?"
"And a closet," Freed nodded to one of the doors. "It used to be a vacation rental, before the owner let it go to hell. That's why there's bathrooms for each bedroom, I think. It works well for us, though. One room for each of the team, and a spare room. I thought either a guest room, or perhaps a gym when we can afford the equipment. But by that point, I expect the house will be more communal and I won't have unquestioning authority. I'll miss it."
"So, Bix and Ever are moving in too?" Asked Laxus, and Freed nodded. Laxus would like that. He'd miss having his own space with Freed, though. "Well, show me your special bedroom then, don't wanna walk in by mistake and have you pissed off at me."
Freed laughed, walked to the door on the far left and opened it, motioning for Laxus to walk in. It, like the living room, was barely furnished. The bed they'd been sharing was resting against the wall, facing the large wall of glass that led to the balcony. The only other thing was the armchair, which looked ugly and out of place in the modern room, and yet Laxus wouldn't want it removed nor improved. It felt as though Freed wanted a reminder of their time together and had decided his room would be a reflection of their apartment.
Or maybe Laxus was overthinking things. That was possible. Likely, even. That's why Laxus said what he did next. "Wait, you get the bed and the chair? Where the hell do I sleep tonight?"
"I've heard the floor is wonderful for posture correction, and you do tend to slouch," mused Freed as he looked around. Laxus knocked him on the shoulder, and Freed smiled to himself. "I've planned for that. Follow me."
Laxus did, though was surprised when Freed didn't open any of the doors to the bedrooms. They went back downstairs, and only when they were back on the floor and at the same level did Laxus see that Freed was fiddling with the palm of his hand. His fingers were twitching and playing around, scratching against each other in small, purposefully subtle movements. Laxus had seen Freed do that a few times throughout their time living together: the morning of his first rehearsal with the dance troupe, the day when Freed had first cooked for the guild, and the moment when they realised when their best hope of living anywhere was sharing a crappy apartment. It was a nervous tick. What did he have to be nervous about?
Freed went to push open one of the doors off the living room but stopped himself and turned to look at Laxus. Laxus halted, concern clearly filling his features. Freed was such a steadfast person, it took a lot to rattle him. He looked scared.
"There are a few things I need to say before I-" he cut himself off, took a breath, and met Laxus' eyes. "This house is unconditional. You live here no matter what. I need you to know that first," the intense look on his face made Laxus nod. "Good, please believe that. Next, there are no expectations of you. Not a single one. Whatever happens-"
"Freed, you've gotta tell me what you're panicking about."
"Right, yes," Freed nodded slightly, placed his hand on the door again. "Dammit, I had this planned out to be much more romantic, but, well, we can only go onwards I suppose."
Laxus' brain snagged on the word 'romantic' and stuck there, but as Freed opened the door, all thoughts died away. It was an open plan kitchen and dining room, with an open fireplace. The fireplace was lit, crackling and warm as it brought orange glow to the room. The small dining room table was lit only by two large, red candles that flickered gently. The table was decorated with a white vase filled with a range of yellow, orange and red flowers. Two cloches were placed either side of the table, and the smell of rich, wonderful food permeated.
Slowly, Laxus walked into the room. Romantic? That's what Freed had said. Right after Freed had assured Laxus he would always have a place to live there, unconditionally, Freed had mentioned romance. Now, he had walked into a candle lit dinner, which Freed had prepared himself.
That was another situation that Laxus hadn't planned for: Freed beating him to the punch.
Wordlessly, he turned to Freed, who was standing half way through the door, looking more unsure than Laxus had ever seen him.
Unacceptable.
Laxus felt a burning passion, exhilaration and need rush through him with a fury he'd never experienced before.
He was walking towards Freed before he could stop himself and brought his hand up. He wrapped it around the back of Freed's neck, clasping it firmly as he got in Freed's space. Their chests butted slightly - Laxus had misjudged how far Freed was - but he didn't care. He tilted his head, closed his eyes, and gave Freed the kiss he'd been wanting for all those months.
Fuck.
Oh gods.
Laxus was actually weak at the knees. The feeling of Freed's lips against his own, his tongue against his own, was breathtaking. Laxus pulled Freed close, feeling the man against him in a way he'd never had before. There was a closeness, an intimacy he'd never thought he'd know. Freed was strong and firm and practical and caring. He kissed with authority, and Laxus would always happily defer to it. He wanted to collapse into Freed, to be consumed by him. By the kiss. By the man he loved.
When they pulled away, their foreheads pressed together. Laxus smiled, a dopey and silly smile, as he whispered, "You're good at that, too."
Freed snorted a shaky laugh, and oh damn did Laxus love that moment of inelegance. "You're rather good yourself."
They laughed into another kiss, and Laxus found his hands lacing their way through Freed's hair so he could better cup the back of his head. Freed's own hands had found rest at Laxus' waist, and Laxus could have groaned at how they anchored him. This kiss was shorter, gentler, but no less passionate. Laxus found himself scratching at the back of Freed's head, and all but beamed when Freed leant into it.
Energy was buzzing through Laxus, and as hypnotising as the scent of the food, or the lure of Freed's lips were, Laxus felt the need to move. To move, but not without Freed. He'd fight the damn gods themselves if anything tried to get Freed out of his arms. It was only then that he realised there was soft, trilling music playing through the room. Laxus smiled, ran a hand down Freed's side and ended up taking Freed's hand in his own. They intertwined their hands without questioning nor discussion, and Laxus was in awe at the gentle friction between their skin.
"Dance with me," he demanded in a whisper.
"Really?" Freed asked.
"Yeah." Laxus smiled. "But go easy on me. No lifts."
Freed laughed, and then they danced. It was nothing to be impressed by - nothing more than swaying in each other's arms - but Laxus felt this meant more to him than any performance could mean to any professional. The ability to stand with Freed in this way was a privilege and yet a natural state of being for them both. They were so close. Their hands were intertwined, their waists pushed together, and at one point Freed rested his head against Laxus' chest and Laxus all but cried.
They stayed like that for a while. Freed's head moved to the crook of Laxus' neck, and they swayed in each other's arms. They had time to think, and Laxus was consumed by how entirely right this felt. It wasn't odd. It wasn't uncomfortable. It wasn't anything other than the logical next step.
"You wanna eat?" Laxus eventually asked. "Don't want your hard work going to waste."
"Certainly not," Freed agreed, though neither moved to detach from the other for at least two minutes.
When they eventually did, they sat either side of the table, which was narrow enough for their feet to knock against each other. Made silly by the rush he was feeling, Laxus made an effort to nudge and play with Freed's feet with his own. He caught Freed's barely hidden smile; which was so honest, just a little shy, and was accented with the nicest little blush. Freed really was lovely.
They removed the cloches, and Laxus beamed at what had been served. Barbecue ribs and nearly a bucket's worth of fries covered in cheese and bacon sauce. This was the meal Laxus always had when he was too injured to work for a while; indulgent, against his diet, and delicious.
And, decidedly not a typical first date meal.
"Not a salad," Laxus teased, "so you can show off how elegant and sophisticated you are."
"You already know how sophisticated and elegant I am," Freed hummed, taking one of his own cheese covered fries and eating it.
"I also know how much of a deranged animal you can be with certain foods," Laxus grinned.
Freed huffed, "I dispute that whole heartedly."
"Roast chicken."
Slamming a rib down on the plate, Freed stared down Laxus' grin. "I had been captured and tortured, I had not eaten in four days, and I was hungry. That was four years ago, let it go."
"You nearly choked on it," Laxus beamed. "That was so sexy of you. Really a turn on."
"Hush."
"I think that's when I first noticed you were a man, not just some brat, Y'know."
"Oh be quiet," Freed huffed. "And we both know that, when presented with a certain brand of Black Forest gateau, you make Erza's sweet tooth look positively rational. I wonder how she'd react if I told her. She's never been one to stand for such a flagrant display of hypocrisy."
"Truce?" Laxus asked, and Freed smiled at him. Laxus grinned, took a bite of the ribs, then groaned. He caught Freed's grin. "So, speaking of dessert, is that gateau part of your seduction methods? Because it'll work if it is."
"I considered it," Freed mused. "But I thought stripping naked, dripping melted chocolate over my body, and having you lick it off might serve my purposes better. Thought?"
Laxus choked on his food, coughing out a "Fuck!"
"And now the truce can begin," Freed beamed at him, and Laxus couldn't help but match it; once he'd finished coughing, obviously. "And I hope you notice that, when you choke on food, I don't claim that it's sexy, a turn on, or that this is the first time I see you as a man. It takes very little effort not to say those things."
"Ah dammit, you're cocky in a relationship too," Laxus playfully groaned. "And here I thought I'd turn you into a mewling little kitten of a man."
"I may be, if I'm in the right position," Freed purred, running the toe of his shoe up Laxus' leg.
"You evil bastard," Laxus laughed. "Serve up my favourite food and then give me something even better to look forward to." The glare Laxus sent Freed's way was filled with heat, but certainly not anger. Freed matched it with a flirty little smile, his foot not stopping its teasing drag. Laxus felt his trousers tighten a little at the crotch, then remembered something. "You said you'd sorted out where I'd sleep. Then you took me down here to seduce me. Are those two things connected maybe?"
"Are you trying to imply that I'm so arrogant that I believe all I'd need is some dinner to get you into bed?"
"Yeah, I think you're exactly that sure of yourself."
"Hm," Freed hummed. "Well, all I'll say is this: you've witnessed my proficiency in varied skills over the last few months, yes? My talents in bed make everything else I do look sloppy to a near Neanderthal level. I'm that good." He retracted his foot; Laxus missed the touch almost too much. "Eat your food, dear. You'll need the energy."
"Cocky mother fucker," Laxus growled.
He stood, leant over the table, and pulled Freed into a deep kiss filled with promise. Promises that Laxus knew Freed could keep.
so can I request Freed carrying Laxus bridal style and Laxus getting all blushy and 'wait what are you DOING-' about it? somebody of the guild watches this and it'll be memorized forever :D XD
Or: The 5 Times Laxus Learned of a New Skill Freed Possessed, & The 1 Time He Fell Victim To Them
Summary: For the rest of the world, it had been seven years. For the members of Fairy Tail it had all been in the blink of an eye. But, for Laxus, that was more than enough time for his closest friend to seem like an entirely new person. This self assured, competent Freed was something new to Laxus, and he found himself enjoying it. Perhaps a little too much…
Note: Ohh, it’s time for emotions, backstory and flowers. Hope you enjoy it all.
Links: Ao3, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
5: Floristry
"Hey, I got dinner- what the fuck?"
The apartment was filled with flowers. Every available surface had flowers over it, including a good amount of the floor, Laxus had to move around them, treading carefully not to crush any of them as he placed the takeout bag on the counter. After having to push a pile of roses to the side, of course.
Freed looked at him with a half amused, half exasperated expression. He was sitting at the table, where a selection of vases - some were filled, some not - were scattered. There were also ribbons, bows and translucent coloured plastic wraps.
"You gonna explain, or do we just live in bee paradise now?"
"That was almost funny, congratulation," Freed teased, and subsequently avoided the little bolt of lightning that flew his way. "Valentine's Day is approaching, and I'm sure Mirajane told you about her anonymous bouquet idea. Well, she's contracted an illness and apparently it falls to me to pick up the slack."
"Makes sense. Out of all the people in the guild, when I think of flowers you're the top of the list," Laxus frowned through the sarcasm. "Not any of the women who wanna have flowers, not the guy with plant magic, and not our actual teammate who had her own rose garden. No, I think of you."
"That's more or less what I said verbatim," Freed hummed. "Apparently I have an artistic and elegant soul, and that's more important than competence in the task."
Laxus wasn't going to deny that Freed's soul did seem elegant and artistic, but it wouldn't be in his best interesrts to agree with it either. He looked over the seemingly complete bouquets and hummed quietly. "They look pretty good for someone without any competence. You getting into it?"
"I like working with my hands, this is a form of that," Freed shrugged. "And I suppose it brings back memories of my father. He was a florist."
Laxus halted, and didn't turn to look at Freed no matter how much he wanted to. Freed's family had been one of the biggest question marks about him, nobody knew anything about them. Laxus hadn't known if Freed even knew them. "He was?"
"Yes, I used to work in his shop sometimes," Freed continued working, sliding a white tulip into a vase. "Not often, and not for pay of course; I was nine when he was killed. But he sometimes let me help get the flowers he wanted. It was probably to stop me from asking questions about what he was doing - I had no filter as a child, you see, and apparently could talk a mile a minute - but I enjoyed it all the same," he stopped moving, looking at a bare point on the table. "He was a good man, it's a shame I never got the chance to know him."
"I…" Laxus started to say, but didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry."
"Yes, well, things happen," Freed mused. "They couldn't find my mother after his death, which I suppose is the point of leaving a baby on a man's doorstep. I was made a ward of the state, flittered around orphanages until I was sixteen then joined the Rune Knights. That was bad, but short lived. Then, I found Fairy Tail, so I suppose it all ends well."
Laxus placed a hand on his shoulder, just for a moment. "You okay?"
"Yes. I suppose I'm just a little morose when I think of him, my apologies," Freed assured him. "Have you ever been given flowers, or sent them out?"
"No, to both," Laxus removed his hands, giving Freed a lingering look before walking back to the food. "The two times I've been with someone, I guess they didn't see me as the type of guy who needs to be treated like that. And I was always kinda weird about sending flowers, didn't wanna get it wrong. There's this language they have, right? Didn't wanna accidentally tell a guy I liked that I thought he had a small dick and didn't know how to use it, or something."
"Okay, which of those things do you want to discuss first? Because, as a language expert with a family heritage in flowers, I have opinions on the so-called language of flowers," Freed said, placing down his secateurs. "But I feel like we should focus on the fact you just, perhaps unintentionally, came out to me."
Fuck, he had, hadn't he? "Well, I know you're not a bigot, and I know you've fucked men so if you had problems with he liking guys then you'd be a hypocrite, so maybe we brush past it and you rant about flowers."
"Wonderful," Freed smiled. "The idea that flowers have language is absolutely absurd, and a way for disingenuous hacks to overcharge for their services."
Freed didn't stop his rant for the next ten minutes, and Laxus had to sit back and laugh when Freed began to explain the nature of the concept of language, and how character based information could not be passed with such a small pool of participants. When he picked up a potted sunflower, waved it in Laxus' face, and demanded what letter it was, Laxus let out an undignified snort of laughter that made his cheeks red.
Suitably kowtowed, Laxus got to work plating their dinner. Freed continued on with his work, snipping at plants and quietly humming as he did so. Laxus pulled out his music Lacrima and started to play the song Freed had been humming, catching the flash of a smile on Freed's face in the reflection of the window.
They ate together, and Freed didn't once stop working. Once Laxus' plate was emptied, he reached over for a note written in Mirajane's handwriting, quickly reading it over. He put it down and frowned.
"This has to be done by tomorrow morning?" He demanded. "Valentines is a week away."
"Apparently the surprise of them being gifted earlier will make it more romantic, and will give the recipients time to figure red out who they were from so they can do something on the day itself, should they wish to," Freed explained as he wrapped up another vase. "It's stressful, though I suppose I understand it."
"And Mira hadn't done any of them before she got sick."
"Well, she had," Freed looked slightly guilty. "I have higher standards than she."
"Of course you do," Laxus smiled to himself, then pulled an empty vase over to himself. "What do I need to do?"
"Oh you really don't need to-"
"Just fucking tell me."
Freed reached for a stack of small pink cards, rifled through them and handed one to Laxus. 'To Natsu, From Gray'. Laxus huffed; fucking finally one of them was going to make a move. It'd been fifteen years since their weird obsession had begun with each other, and it was starting to get on the guild's collective nerves.
"I thought you could fill it with any pale blue, white, silver and grey flowers you could find, and place a fire lilie in the centre," He motioned for the lilie as he mentioned it. "It's hardly subtle, but given how the two of them are, I think they can do with all the help they can get."
Laxus got to work, finding as many of the correctly colours flowers as he could and placing them in the vase. Quickly, he realised that he didn't know what he was doing, but he knew when he hadn't gotten it right. After blunt forcing his way through it, he eventually settled on an arrangement he was happy with, and carefully slid the lilie into the centre. It gave the composition a shot of colour that seemed to bring it to life, and Laxus found himself oddly proud of himself.
When he turned to ask Freed what he needed next, he found the other man looking at him almost softly. He squirmed slightly in his seat, frowned and asked a blunt, "What?"
"Nothing," Freed dismissed. "Just, I've enjoyed living with you. That's all."
"Yeah," Laxus nodded, taken aback by the confession. "Me too. Er, who's next."
"Well, we've got 'To Evergreen From Elfman', and 'To Elfman From Evergreen', so we could take one each," Freed suggested, and Laxus nodded.
They made somewhat quick work of the rest of the requests, with Freed taking point on themes, colours and arrangements, while Laxus did as he was told. The music playing through the Lacrima gave a gentle, soft feeling to the proceedings as, one by one, the vases were filled and wrapped. The surfaces became bare of their flowers and Laxus got to tidying up.
It was near midnight by the time the apartment was back to it's normal, crappy yet useable state. The smell of the flowers were pleasant enough, and almost made it feel homely. Or maybe that was Freed. Pretty much every good thing in this place had come Freed…
"Laxus," Freed cut through his thoughts. Laxus turned to him, to find a single yellow rose being offered to him. "Since apparently we're being vulnerable today, you should have this."
"What?" Laxus asked, looking down at the rose. He tentatively took it, and he knew his cheeks were exploding with red.
"Just, I want you to know that, despite what your past partners might have made you feel, you are fully deserving of getting flowers," He looked away, then smiled. "Goodnight, Laxus."
He retreated to the bedroom, shut the door and left Laxus alone with the most beautiful flower he had ever seen. He twirled it around, running his fingers up and down the rough and spiky stem. He then looked around the apartment. It should be a tiny, crappy, hell hole. That was how he saw it when they first moved in. They only had one bed, and barely enough space for a damn armchair. It was a horrid little place, and yet Laxus had only fond memories for it,
Freed had done that. Freed, and his cooking. Freed, and the shelf he'd made that housed all the little crochet dolls he crafted. Freed, and his fluid movements he performed when he thought Laxus wasn't looking. Freed, and his flowers. Freed, and his openness and his life and his damn smile.
It happened before he could stop it. This hadn't happened for years. Not when he had been kicked from the guild. Not when they'd welcomed him home. Not when he had accepted his death on the island.
Laxus sobbed.
A throaty, quiet cry, devoid of reason, split through him.
The tears started to fall before he could stop them.
He couldn't stop them, nor explain them, but he felt them in his soul.
Or: The 5 Times Laxus Learned of a New Skill Freed Possessed, & The 1 Time He Fell Victim To Them
Summary: For the rest of the world, it had been seven years. For the members of Fairy Tail it had all been in the blink of an eye. But, for Laxus, that was more than enough time for his closest friend to seem like an entirely new person. This self assured, competent Freed was something new to Laxus, and he found himself enjoying it. Perhaps a little too much…
Note: Chapter Three, perhaps the most self indulgent of them all. If you want to see Freed's performance, it’s inspired by This Video. Hope you enjoy.
Links: Ao3, Part 1, Part 2, Part 4
3: Dancing
"I can dance, if that helps."
Freed had said it so impassively that the team had almost dismissed it. They knew Freed could dance - he'd been the only one able to lead Erza in a waltz after all - but there was a difference between holding your own in a ballroom and contending with the cast of the Royal Fiore Ballet Society.
Laxus almost had ignored him, but the words lingered. Freed was a cocky son of a bitch at times, but he did know his skills and wasn't the type to brag needlessly when a mission was involved. If he had mentioned it during planning, then he had a reason.
The guild had been contacted by the Ballet Society. Their chairman had been sent a slew of threats by a supposed auditionee who had been rejected and wanted revenge. Initially the society had dismissed them, but the threats started to become more and more specific, and had been narrowed down to one specific night. Apparently on the final night of its first week, the show would 'suffer something it would never come back from'. Fairy Tail had taken the job, and the Raijinshuu had been tasked with keeping the piece on the night.
Bickslow was patrolling the theatre, acting as one of their security. Laxus and Evergreen were playing the rich, young couple on a night out. Freed was on stage. Dancing.
"You look nervous," Ever commented, leaning in as if sharing a quiet flirtation. "What's wrong?"
"It's nothing," Laxus dismissed.
"Tell me," Evergreen pushed, looking over the small bar they'd been directed to before the show began.
"Forget it," Laxus tried again, and Ever's glare cowed him. "It's just, this sounds so stupid, but I'm nervous for him. I want him to do well. Don't want him to mess up."
"I get that. But he'll be fine; they made him audition, had him rehearse for five weeks, and gave him the most complex role in the show. They're confident he's good," Ever slipped a finger into the buttons of Laxus' tux, tugging him closer and pecking a kiss on his lips. It wasn't the first time they'd kissed during a mission - often they played the couple when needed - but it always felt weird. She then moved to press a kiss to his jaw, which was followed by a whisper. "But he better not be too good; lord knows you don't need anything else to moon over."
"What's that mean?" Laxus demanded, pulling back.
"'Oh, he's such a good chef. He cooks for me every night. He could work in any restaurant in the city.' Blah," she forced a wince, but the mischief in her eyes shone. "And then of course there's the lightning bolt you won't let out of your sight. Except on missions. Where d'you put it again? In a safe deposit box?"
"The bedside table," Laxus grunted.
"Ah yes, the bedside table you share with Freed, which I suspect is next to the bed you share with Freed."
"We don't share it that way. We alternate."
"For now," Evergreen teased.
Laxus didn't have a response to that, for two reasons. One - the main one really - was that the small bell rang and they were called to take their seats. The second reason was that, if he kept up this conversation, he might let it slip where his crochet actually was. Because, rather than tucking it away in the bedside table, he'd taken it on the job and bashfully handed it to Freed, pathetically explaining that maybe it would bring him some luck.
Dammit, Freed had smiled at him and taken it. Why the hell was he smiling so much since they got back? He had to know what it did to the people who saw it. The squirmy, messy feeling that it evoked. He was doing it on purpose, just to mess with people. Sadistic bastard!
Once seated, the show took a little while to start up, and Freed did not show up for the first act. This was expected. His role, though technically demanding, was only in one scene. It worked well for the mission, allowing Freed to have a near uninhibited run of the backstage without having to flitter between being on stage and not. His role was also seen as one of the most important parts in the show, and likely when an attack might take place, so he would be in the middle of things should they go wrong. It had worked out rather well.
Laxus had almost relaxed into his mission mindset, looking anywhere and everywhere for signs of attack, by the time Freed showed up. When he did, Laxus' jaw almost dropped.
The show was Alice in Wonderland, and Freed played the Mad Hatter. In a pastel shaded suit and tailcoat, and a ramshackled tophat, he sprung from behind a curtain, twirling the hat around. His hair had been dyed: green turned to white, which turned to a shower of faded pink. His expressions were that of a constrained, manic madness. His movements were fluid yet sharp, well practised and perfected.
With every fast step, the soles of his shoes rang through the theatre in sharp taps. The dance was a blending of ballet and tap, something even the best of dancers struggled with, and Freed made it look easy.
Oh, god. The way he moved his hips, without warning nor need. Could he always move like this? Was the mad hatter meant to be a seductive character? Surely not.
The dance moved on faster than Laxus could take it in. There were three other dancers on stage alongside Freed, and yet Laxus couldn't take his eyes off him, no matter who the focus was meant to be on. He was just so majestic. So relentless. So good.
He spun another dancer around, holding her far too close then letting her slide below his legs. Then he spun her away and was on his own again. Another dancer took hold of him, and in a moment his leg was extended so high that his foot was above his head, Laxus shifted in his seat. Freed was flexible enough to make that look simple, and Laxus felt the slightest stirring at that revelation.
Dammit, did they have to make the pants so snug? Laxus could see where his thick thighs ended and the curve of his ass began anytime the tails of the coat flew up.
Far too soon, it was only him on stage. With the spotlight on him and the music nearing its conclusion, he spun on his foot, managing at least ten twirls in three seconds. His tailcoat and his hair swirled around him, beautiful and magical. He was a seductive lure as the song reached crescendo. He struck a pose, then left the stage with exaggerated movements entirely in character for the person he'd been playing.
"Wow," Evergreen whispered.
"Damn," Laxus agreed, because no other words came to mind.
——
Laxus met Freed at the stage door, after the rest of the cast had gone.
The mission had been a success, even if Laxus had entirely forgotten about it the moment Freed had stepped on stage. Thankfully, Bickslow had managed to remain professional, hunted down the wannabe attacker, hypnotised him before he could do anything, and marched him off to the local police station and forced him to confess. All this had been explained in a Lacrima message, which ended with an instruction to enjoy the rest of the show. Laxus and Ever had done so, and once it had been done, Ever promised to sort everything out so Laxus could meet up with Freed.
Well, she'd actually said she'd done it so Laxus could 'pathetically moon over Freed like a love stick moron' in person, but Laxus had resolutely ignored that and took the excuse to offer congratulations to his friend.
Freed had been magnificent. There were no other words. After Freed's dance, Laxus had taken more care in watching the rest of the show, and it was filled with flawless performers. Freed hadn't once felt out of place. He had earned his place in the show even if he hadn't obtained it in typical means.
"Oh," Freed halted slightly as he left the building and saw Laxus waiting for him. "I expected you'd be gone by now."
"You kidding me?" Laxus scoffed, then looked Freed up and down. He was in more normal clothes, and if it weren't for his still dyed hair, he'd look no different than normal. But Laxus saw an almost entirely different man. A man who had always been there, but laxus hadn't seen. Or hadn't been looking for. "Freed, that was…"
"I was out of time once or twice, and my leg work was sloppy for the first thirty or so seconds," Freed filled the gap Laxus' wordlessness had caused. "I could blame it on being vigilant of the crowd, but I just lost the beat."
"Freed you were fuckin' incredible," Laxus snapped. "You had five weeks to train and you held your own against people who've worked their whole lives for this. Be arrogant about this. You deserve it."
Freed smiled a little. "They did make a comment that they might contact me should their regular Hatter actually fall ill. Jesting, I'm sure."
Laxus was no judge of dance skill, but he had a feeling that wasn't a joke as much as it was them trying to suss out Freed's reaction to the chance of dancing more often. "If they call you, say yes," He demanded, and Freed laughed. "Promise me."
"Laxus-"
"Promise me, asshole. You clearly enjoyed doing it, and they'd be lucky to have you, so promise me."
"Fine, if the most prestigious dance company in the country wants my help, I'll do it."
"Good, I'm gonna hold you to that," Laxus huffed slightly, then jerked his head towards the Main Street. Freed dutifully walked the few steps down so he was side by side with Laxus. They walked for about three minutes before Laxus halted and glared at Freed. "I mean, when the hell are you gonna tell me how you know how to do any of that? Because it's been nearly two months and I'm starting to get pissy that I don't know."
"That only makes me more inclined not to tell you," Freed hummed. Laxus didn't let his glare up, and Freed averted his gaze. "You left your headphones when you were removed from the guild. They were at my house, I don't remember why. I had a lot of time alone - I didn't take jobs in the early days; I felt like I was taking them from more serving people, you see - so I started to listen to the songs you had saved. I had a lot of energy as I wasn't working, and one way to get it out was to listen to some music and start dancing. There was no skill to it, of course. I'm not going to pretend bobbing around the house led to that," he gestured to the theatre. "But, I enjoyed moving in that way, and found a few books on dancing, and started to practise."
"You're telling me that you can go toe to toe with the most talented people in their field because you read a couple of books on dancing?" Laxus laughed, because with anyone else that would be as ridiculous as it sounded.
"I've always been fastidious with reading," Freed shrugged. "Although, the five weeks of intensive training might have helped, just a smidge."
"You think?"
"As I say, just a smidge," Freed smiled, and Laxus pushed him to the side. Freed staggered slightly, but it was all too easy to pair the laughing man beside him with the dance aficionado from earlier.
"You're one of a kind Freed," Laxus said as he wrapped an arm around Freed's shoulders. Freed let him. "One of a fucking kind."
Or: The 5 Times Laxus Learned of a New Skill Freed Possessed, & The 1 Time He Fell Victim To Them
Summary: For the rest of the world, it had been seven years. For the members of Fairy Tail it had all been in the blink of an eye. But, for Laxus, that was more than enough time for his closest friend to seem like an entirely new person. This self assured, competent Freed was something new to Laxus, and he found himself enjoying it. Perhaps a little too much…
Note: Part two. Arrival of the Bickslow. Hope you all enjoy.
Links: Ao3, Part 1
2: Crochet
"Thanks for helping with this," Laxus grunted as he hefted a grocery bag into his side so he could struggle for his keys. "I owe you one."
"Don't sweat it," Bickslow shrugged, his own grocery bags shifting precariously. One looked ready to fall, and required some odd shunting movements to stop it from sliding to the floor. Bickslow grinned, watching as Laxus struggled getting his keys from his pocket; this was what happened when you wore such snug pants. "Why'd you even need this much food, anyway? Freed a hoarder now?"
"Nah, Mirajane's got him doing catering for the Yuletide festival. He's been planning the menu for a week now and this," he hefted his bag again, "is for the test run. Apparently Mira needs to taste test everything to give her approval. Don't even know how she found out he could cook."
Bickslow, taking pity on Laxus, reached over and carefully took the only bag Laxus was holding, jamming it in between the two others in a precarious grasp that barely looked safe. Laxus quickly reached into his pocket, unlocked the door, taking the bag back before they all fell to the ground.
"It's a mystery," Bickslow commented, humming theatrically. "However could she have found out? What a pickle."
Laxus halted, his hand reaching for his apartment's door handle. "What's that mean?"
"It means that maybe, and I'm just spitballin', she heard that Freed could cook from his big blonde roommate who has been bragging about his culinary expertise - exact quote - to literally anyone in the guild willing to listen."
The glare Laxus sent Bickslow's way might have been more intimidating had it not been partially obscured by a sauce bottle jutting into his lip. "That is crap and you know it."
"Disagree."
"I mentioned it maybe three times at most," Laxus huffed, glancing at the door as if Freed might have his ear pushed against the other side. "To you, to Evergreen, and to the Metalhead when he wouldn't shut up about why I smelled like gravy."
"Yep, and that, coming from you, is like a normal person hosting a parade," Bickslow grinned. "Now, open up. I wanna know what it's like in the Justine-Dreyar household."
"You're an idiot," Laxus grunted, going to open the door only to hault himself again. "Why was his name first?"
"Oh baby, if you don't know that then I can't help you."
Deciding not to put too much thought into what that meant, Laxus opened the door to his and Freed's tiny apartment. The Lacrima was softly playing some classical music, and Freed was sat at the dinner table, hunched over and facing away from them both. He looked over his shoulder, eyes first hitting Laxus, then Bickslow. His eyes widened, he turned back to the table, and covered something with one of his books.
After sharing a glance with each other, Laxus and Bickslow placed the bags of food onto the counter and turned to their friend, who was glaring at Bickslow, daring him to move. Bickslow took a step forward, and the threat in Freed's expression all but doubled. Despite not knowing what was going on, Laxus grinned and leant back to watch.
"Out," Freed demanded.
"Why?" Bickslow whined, walking towards Freed again. Freed's gaze narrowed, not once leaving him.
"Out," Freed repeated.
Bicksow huffed, crossed his arms, then suddenly jolted. His arm shot out and he pointed at the book, which covered whatever he was hiding. "Gift!" He exclaimed, looking at Laxus with a wide grin. "My Yuletide present is under there, isn't it? He's making me something."
"Out," Freed raised his voice for that demand.
"Fine, fine," Bickslow put his hands up in surrender, stepping back from the table. "I'm going, just first I gotta do this!"
He all but launched himself over the table, and Laxus winced at it creaked under his weight. Bickslow cursed loudly, and Laxus watched as he pulled his hand away from a shining wall of runes that had covered the book and hidden gift. Bickslow looked down at his fingers with a forced pathetic expression, then made a big show of clutching at his hand, staggering around the small room.
Laxus put the spectacle to the back of his mind for a moment as he looked over the table. Bickslow had said Freed was making him something. Freed could make gifts? On the table, other than the book, was a few stray pieces of brown yawn and a barely visible needle. Was he knitting?
"The brutality!" Bickslow almost yelled, the culmination of his self pity. He then swooned in Laxus' direction, who quickly sidestepped so Bickslow knocked his head on the kitchen cupboards. He stood up straight, pouting at Laxus. "Mean."
"But satisfaying,"Laxus shrugged. "He's not gonna show ya, might as well leave."
"Well, fine then," Bickslow wobbled his lower lip. "I know when I'm not wanted. Goodbye you cruel, evil men, who have no care for your fellow man. You're truly meant for each other!"
He wiggled his eyebrows at Laxus as he retreated, and Laxus slammed the door in his face before snapping to look over to Freed. It didn't look like he'd seen Bickslow's expression, which was good. Why such a patently Bickslow action would worry Laxus on such an instinctive level was something he didn't know, but he was glad he was the only one who had seen it.
To busy himself, he put the groceries in the fridge, freezer and cupboard in a way that wouldn't lead to Freed complaining. The kitchen had really become his domaine, and Laxus was happy to comply to his rules. Once it was done, he collapsed into the armchair that would be his bed for the night, and saw that Freed hadn't removed the book.
"What actually is it?" He asked.
"Bickslow's gift," Freed played with the spine of the book absently.
"And is there a reason it's still hidden even though he's gone."
"He's devious, one of his dolls could be hiding somewhere," Freed shrugged slightly. It was a clear lie, and Laxus wasn't going to let it pass. He stared him down, and Freed leant back in his chair. "Well, given that our funds are somewhat… non existent this year, I've chosen to make your gifts by hand. They're all somewhat in the same vein of each other."
"Okay," Laxus nodded. "Don't show me if you don't wanna, but I'm not gonna throw a tantrum if I see something somewhat similar to what you got me."
"Right, right, of course not. Forgive me, I'm still in Bickslow mode," Freed waved a hand as if to dismiss the mindset. "Well, erm, this is it."
He lifted the book, but did nothing more. Laxus hauled himself up and walked to the table, picking up the gift and assessing it. It was one of Bickslow's dolls, with a goofy smile looking up at Laxus, made entirely out of yarn. It had been crocheted, pretty damn well too. It was good. Really good. Freed had made this?
When he looked up, Freed was fiddling with the Lacrima, obviously as an excuse to look anywhere but Laxus' way. So this was important to him, that was fine. Laxus would bolster his confidence, and it would be ridiculously easy because Freed was apparently a crochet savant.
Also, he was being vulnerable. That was new, for both of them.
"This is great," Laxus said, aiming for flippancy. As much as this clearly meant something to Freed, Laxus knew it wouldn't be best to make a big deal about it. "It's really impressive."
"Thank you," Freed said, a little bluntly, but Laxus could see his smile. He was damn pretty when he smiled. "And I'm glad you like it, because I'm not lying when I say you'll get something very similar."
"Looking forward to it."
Two weeks later, in the still too small guildhall, Laxus opened a wrapped box with his name written on a tag in Freed's handwriting. He had settled in a corner to open it, away from prying eyes and the inevitable thrown spells that happened at every Fairy Tail party, and slid the lid off the box.
A small, crocheted lightning bolt sat before him, with a black Fairy Tail emblem in the centre of it. Tucked below it was a small note, also in Freed's handwriting, with the simple message of 'Glad To Have You Back' written on it.
Laxus smiled, running his hands over the lines of yawn. He gave it a little squeeze, watching with almost childish amusement as it bounced back into shape. He looked up and caught Freed glancing at him. He raised the lightning bolt, mouthed a 'thank you' and made sure Freed was watching as he tucked it into the inner breast pocket of his coat, where it would remain.
Except on missions. He'd keep it safe at home on missions. He wasn't going to risk it getting damaged. Not for a moment.
Ahhh mirafreed for the headcanons please? (I hope we're not overwhleming you too much with these asks btw and that youre doing well!)
You're fine! 💜
Many people have asked Mirajane out over the years, and most if not all have been rejected. Freed was one of the few whose request for a date was accepted, mostly because Mira trusts him and has never been asked out by a refined gentleman before.
Freed has had a lot of admiration for Mirajane ever since being defeated by her in the Battle of Fairy Tail. Freed has always feared the darkness inside him, and employing it was a desperation move. Mirajane is someone who swore off the darkness inside her, but apparently not due to fearing it. Not only did she kick his ass, she maintained control, something he was scared he'd lose even if he won.
They definitely become a sort of celebrity couple--Mirajane with her Sorceror Weekly profile, and Freed with his endless popularity among female wizardry fans. They get dubbed 'the King and Queen of Hell' by fans, especially once it comes out that Freed--who's relatively mysterious to many--uses dark magic.
Not only do they become known this way, they actually lean into it. They start setting up absolutely sick Halloween parties that take place annually the week after the Harvest Festival. Attendance is free but they take donations for charity, and there's a costume competition where the goal is to out-cosplay the queen of transformation herself, Mirajane.
Freed has eyes only for Mirajane. Other women don't even register. It's not that he's creepily devoted to her, but he does reserve his attention for her in a way that is flattering, if frustrating for other women around him.
Freed is especially careful with his Dark Eye around Mirajane, as the results could be disastrous if he didn't have it under control. Control, specifically, is why he trusts Mirajane so much. He knows that if either of them ever loses it, the other can bring them down and bring them back.
Strauss siblings' reactions?
Lisanna: *ecstatic and supportive*
Elfman: *a little disappointed at how normal freed is*
Thunder Legion reactions?
Evergreen: *hesitantly supportive*
Bickslow: *crowing about how Freed got the hottest girl*
Laxus: *supportive but also literally doesn't care*
Note : I’M SO SORRY FOR THE PAIN ! That was the prompt, I’m not use to do dark pieces T.T Btw, They are alive, okay ?! Laxus gonna end the fight and take care of them two.
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