To everyone I've been talking with on Tumblr I'm sorry for being absent, going through a major depressive episode. I'll get back once I'll feel alive again.
17: When you get a new fic idea, what does that look like in your mind? Does it play out like a film? Do you imagine lines of dialogue or a certain moment? Does a character just sit there staring at you?
Usually, there’s an image in mind that starts things, then a couple of conversations. It starts off sort of cinematic, and then I try to make a list of the things that happen. If it’s a multi chapter I plan out the chapters. If it’s a one shot I’ll either plot out the story beats or the scenes if there are more than one.
Using Hollow's Street as an example, the image I had in mind was Freed crucified by his runes surrounded by rubble with Laxus trapped on the other side of the wall slamming on the wall trying to get in. From there I had a few scenes where he was speaking with a Freed that wasn’t Freed. Then I made a chapter list with a bullet point for each chapter and the idea becomes more clear.
2: Has writing a fic ever changed your opinion of a character
I think maybe you might suspect this already, but Jet. I didn’t think about him much before I started writing him, but writing him made some things about him obvious and made his character traits clear, which are traits I like. He’s a bit angry, a bit underhanded but ultimately a good person whose goodness manifests as snark with morals almost.
A!so, I had a phase of loving Freed and Mard Geer in a toxic romance, but I think I probably wrote him out of character so I’m not sure if this counts.
4: Have you ever written a fic inspired by a tumblr post?
This is a bad answer, but the best I can say it probably. I’m so bad at remembering how things stared out and I’m usually on the next idea when one is finished.
The mafia fic I’m hoping to start writing soon as partly inspired by this art by @mottolucky which shows off a dynamic of Fraxus I’m really liking recently.
18: If you have noticed themes emerging in your writing, what are they? What broad themes and topics do you enjoy exploring?
Quite a lot of the time, since I write so much Fraxus, part of why I like an idea is just me find in a new way to explore them. Also a lot of ideas are based on the idea of them looking hot in the outfits they’d ware…
Outside of Fanfiction, I think my writing has more obvious themes emerging. Ive written a book and planned four more in a series set in the afterlife, and the theme through them all is how you can become a more contented person and make up for the bad habits you fall into in life, if you’re surrounded by the right people.
I suppose that’s a theme that’s in most of my writing: you can truly be yourself if you find the right people who egg you on and celebrate it, which shows up in my Fraxus work a lot. Shamelessly being oneself happens a lot.
(Also a pathetic little plea, I still am desperate to talk about my original writing if anyone’s interested in a story where the king of the afterlife falls in love with a frat boy…)
Ahhh thank you for answering so extensively! It always amazes me how a writer's mind works, how they elaborate scenes and dialogues. Speaking of toxic romance I recently noted, more in the FT or JJBA's fandoms, that there's a lack of "complex" dynamic materials. I feel like the fics are either "everything is going well" or "they're extremely toxic to each other" while, thinking about daily life, there can be something in the middle where people clash with each other and then they resolve the issue. Or also, someone that starts with issues (in a relationship) but works it out. Like, someone can have an ex that left them with insecurities (not necessarily going full toxic) and then maybe in the next relationship they find some balance. Every fic I read involving an ex always portray said ex as the worst, most toxic person ever (like beating, openly insulting etc etc the partner protagonist) while I'd like to read more realistic scenarios (something like, I dunno, a character falling in love with someone but then choosing the partner, or the protagonist not wanting to rush things so they end up on different needs but then make it work compromising or also the protagonist starting really anxious and clingy and then learning to live a more healthy and secure relationship). I dunno, it seems to me it's one extreme or the other.
Also, I feel you for starting with "yeah, they'd be so hot in this au, let's make it" it's so REAL.
Maybe I missed it but is your original fic posted somewhere?
i feel. like on a fundamental level. i do not understand x reader fic. i am not exactly opposed to it because let a thousand blossoms bloom etc. but like. i genuinely don’t get it. it seems like the exact opposite of how i engage with fiction. like the whole point is that i’m not in there. i don’t wanna be in there. if i’m in there it’s going to be very stressful.
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."
@eryiss you mentioned accents in this fic, do you hcs FT characters being from other regions? Do you think some of them would have strong accents? Bisca and Alzack sure have, if I'm not mistaken they're not from Fiore originally but I was wondering about the others 👀
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