#This is mostly from makarov's point of view

[chamomiletealeaf]

hello! I’m writing for TF141 and I especially want to write for Gaz. However for some reason I keep just lumping him with the same personality as Soap. Tips ;-;??

Hi! I'm so flattered you asked me for advice omg :) Well, from what I've noticed in the game, I personally think Gaz is very intuitive. I think he watches from afar and knows what's gonna happen before it actually does, but doesn't give his opinion unless asked. Part of that I think is one, like I said before, his intuition, but also his training and guidance from Price. I personally think Gaz has had the best character development of all the Task Force since the MW reboot, because he goes from this frustrated recruit not knowing what is too much for him and how to handle it when it is too much, to someone so in control of himself that he's gained phenomenal intuition and self control. He's quiet, calm, an observer like Simon, but he actually is quite snarky (hence his cocky little jokes to Laswell and Price in the MW2 campaign). In the first MW reboot campaign I believe it was, where Gaz had to lead the doctor around the mercs from the security cameras I think showed exceptional intuition and self control since he was so sure she was getting out of there alive and what routes to take. I think that also had to do with just him being a good soldier, but he was very confident (even if it was a playable scene and not a cinematic one, we played as Gaz.) Gaz is always calm when he just knows a situation will turn out alright, and if he visibly panics? You better panic too lol. Soap also led Ghost around mercs in I believe the second campaign? Might have been the third but I believe Soap is just handy with tech due to his demolitions training. Both scenes are very similar, but I feel like Gaz works under pressure more efficiently than Soap mostly because of Soap's temper (Like the scene were Soap almost killed Makarov.)

Anyway, that's just me rambling about my pookie Gaz lol, but I would say the main similarities and differences between Soap and Gaz are:

Differences

Soap is impulsive, hot headed, loud, while Gaz is quiet, a man who thinks before he acts and makes sure everyone's on board with a plan before he jumps into action, intuitive, only gives his two cents when asked, a great advice giver and listener (that last one is just from what vibes I personally get from him rather than from observation throughout the campaigns.) And I think he handles pressure and his temper better.

Similarities

Both Gaz and Soap are both witty and silly. They both are able to find that childlike joy despite the horrors they witness. However, they both know when to be serious even if Soap is a bit more out of pocket than Gaz.

I love both so much, and I'm not saying Gaz is a better soldier than Soap by any means, but that they're different, and handle situations differently.

So when it comes to writing Gaz, I would take all of this into consideration such as: How would a calm approach to this situation be?/ How would observing this situation rather than engaging in it affect the characters?/ What advice could be given to other characters from a well thought out point of view (Gaz's pov)?

I feel like Gaz really thinks before he acts unlike Soap.

And if you wanna get more fun with it, I would ask myself: How would two knuckleheads (Gaz and Soap) observe and react to a funny or shocking situation while staying in character?/ How do clashing personalities bond? In this case, their humor is the same, so writing situations where the two of them are together and giggling at something silently in front of whoever they're laughing at I think is the perfect balance between observing and acting on impulse/lack of self control, thus blending their personalities together.

Sorry if that was a lot, I had a lot to say. I love talking about character personalities and actually evaluated Soap's personality for a college psychology of personality final lol (Got an A).

I hope all of my yapping helps at least a little bit!

[raiiryuu]

Been needing to add this to this blog for a while, so I'm gonna try to get the Big Points ready to go so it's at least visible since I've fully switched to calling it 'canon divergent.' Some key points of difference or my view regarding events under the cut, more to be added later!

Laxus and Makarov: Laxus isn't particularly close with any of his remaining blood relatives, for various reasons. He still uses the same name for Makarov as he did as a child mostly out of habit, and usually only when speaking to him directly. There is still a bit of animosity about Ivan's separation from the guild, but it's something that's sort of been marked as an 'agree to disagree' at this point -- there's no saving things now, and arguing further is energy wasted.

Laxus vs Raven Tail in the GMG: This was always kinda strange to me, going back to it after the fact. It makes sense for Ivan to resurface after the Tenrou team did, as he knew no one else knew about Lumen Histoire, but it makes NO sense how he did it, to me. I've been trying to think of a way to make that work, because I do still want Ivan and Laxus to have that conversation. For now, it stays as is, but this is subject to change. I may later have Ivan contacting Laxus separately from the Games to discuss Lumen Histoire and get him doubting. Makarov and Mavis not going into detail on what exactly LH is doesn't help his wariness at all, though as in the manga he doesn't press the issue.

That being said, he doesn't hate Makarov or Ivan. Does he think they both have done things they shouldn't/could have handled things better? Of course. He feels the same way about a lot of the things he's done himself. Is he going to turn his back on his family because of it? Absolutely not. He doesn't have much, if any, contact with Ivan at present, and doesn't necessarily have the highest opinion of him, but things could be far worse. Like with Makarov, he's kinda content to leave things as they are for now. He's got plenty of people to support him that he considers family just the same as his flesh and blood.

The Dragon Issue: the Eclipse Gate shenanigans after the GMG should not have happened the way they did. You spent an entire series hyping up dragon slayer magic to be able to slay dragons, only for it to not matter in the moment? Nah. They were at the very least holding their own, but the gate being closed still got rid of the dragons for good.

Though the Bane/Magic Barrier particles in Laxus's body have been cleared up thanks to the fight with Wahl, the damage they did is still very present, and causes painful episodes and difficulty breathing. The frequency and severity can vary day to day, but it's something he's (grudgingly) working with Porlyusica to treat over time. Sometimes it makes him feel like he's a sickly little kid again, though he'll never bring it up.

During the year timeskip, I'm taking the events of the Raigo Issen spinoff as mostly canon. The Raijinshuu join Blue Pegasus and Laxus very quickly gets fed up by the typical work there, but there are jobs available that are more along the lines of what he's used to. It's during this time that he learns the Red Lightning magic he uses against Wahl Icht. Having it just randomly surface as homage to his great-grandfather always felt a little odd to me, but he had plenty of time to do some research on it prior to this fight.

Laxus carried Makarov to the guild mostly out of a sense of duty, at first, but the longer he had to process he was dead, the worse it felt. He still hasn't sorted his feelings on this out completely, especially with Makarov's return soon after.

Now that I've reread it, the ending. You bet your ass every single one of those dragon slayers got their fair blows in on Acno before he went down.

Regarding dragonification: we never did get clarification on the second-gen slayers' status on this, did we...? As far as this blog is concerned it is still a risk, but one he's keeping quiet about. [The dragon AU I have is about it specifically happening at the point it does, not it happening in general.]

More TBA

[cheesy-mak]

Finally got the motivation to do this! Makanendez oneshot (probably unless requested for more) coming through your way!

Title: "Cigarettes and War."

Trope//Prompt: Rivals to lovers(?)

Characters: Vladimir Makarov/Raul Menendez

I actually wrote about this in my notebook a bit ago, may take some bits from that. First time writing a fic on Tumblr! (Also, forgive me if Menendez or Makarov is a bit or ENTIRELY OOC, I still need to watch through a good majority of BO2 and get used to writing Mak :'') )

Also, he has a room of his own that's nicely protected, but not in the beginning of this fic >:)

Menendez woke up, and strangely, it wasn't to the sight of the light shining through his window in the early morning. In fact, he instead woke up to darkness. The only light luminating his room was from the moon outside. This wasn't normal. He never woke up this late in the night. He doesn't even know what time it is, but considering how groggy he feels, he knows it hasn't been 2 hours since he slept.

He knew something was off. And he knew that off feeling he had wasn't good. He looked out the window of his room and wondered what woke him up, perhaps the noise of a bird hitting the glass of his window woke him up? That can't be, that'd be stupid. Though he has heard that you could wake up if someone you don't know is around you. He sighed and groaned, staring up at his ceiling for a moment before slowly getting up from his bed, unsure on what to do.

It was then that he smelled the scent of smoke. The type of smoke you get from cigarettes. It was the scent of freshly lit cigarettes, and he could see the smoke from outside on his balcony through the window. Someone was on his balcony. But how can that be? His home was strongly protected, how could his men let someone climb up? Unless, that someone took down his men. Shit, so someone is on his balcony, and the men who were protecting his home were dead. Just great.

He sighed once more in annoyance. "Could've came here in the morning, when I'm not trying to sleep," he angrily grumbled as he looked in his drawer and grabbed his pistol which he prepared if a situation like this were to ever happen. He checked the magazine and luckily it was fully reloaded.

He slowly stood up from his bed and sneakily went to his balcony door which was closed. He braced himself and slowly opened the door and quickly rushed in and pointed the gun at where he thought the intruder would be. "You have to be more sneakier than this, I could see the smoke from inside."

He thought it was some stranger that decided to try and kill him, or an American soldier who thought it was great to have a smoke break right outside of his room, but since he was still mostly groggy, he didn't realize it was someone he fought with for a long time.

"Menendez.. It's been such a while since we've met. When was it, on the battlefield?"

He took a moment to process who he was talking to, and his eyes widened as he realized who it was. It was his enemy, his rival. They weren't exactly enemies but they weren't allies either, they talked through radios and phones a lot for enemies, but most conversations were full of insults, threats and a sprinkle of anger.

"..Makarov?- Vladimir Makarov.. What is someone like you doing here?!-" He kept his guard up as the russian warcriminal in front of him smoked a bit more before dropping the cigarette bud and crushing it under his shoe. "I came here, to you, to ask you something. And also," he looks down below from the balcony and under them laid the bodies of his men and also a rope that hung down and was hooked to the edge of said balcony. "I knocked out your men to get up here, was really easy."

"Not surprised someone like you could take them out easily, and I heard you want to ask something. Ask, or in ten seconds you're dead!" Menendez commanded, his gun still up and pointed towards Makarov. The other stayed calm and leaned against the railing, as he looked out to the view. "I feel like we should, stop fighting. I've heard of what your little army is fighting for, you want revenge for what they've done, to you, and to your sister." Menendez's brows furrowed, he was easily losing his patience. "Get on with it, don't try to delay your fate."

"I'm not, Raul! What I want to say is.. I want to help you. I want to help you grow your army, make your plan known to the world and get others to help you, either willingly or not." Makarov then turned to Menendez, his back leaned against the railing as his green and blue eyes shone lightly as it reflected the moonlight.

Menendez was surprised, he didn't know if it was the pleasant type or not. He couldn't believe him, not yet. "How can I believe you? You could be trying to kill me!" Makarov's expression looked a little upset when he said that. "Please trust me. You've heard of my work, haven't you? I can do you wonders.." Makarov said, silently panicking inside since it looks like Menendez is tired of his shit.

Menendez thought for a bit before then putting his pistol down to show that he doesn't wish to be aggressive. He was then proposed with a choice, to recruit Makarov into his army or to not. He can kill him right now and there. He then made a final choice, to recruit Makarov. "Fine, but you will only be helping me. Anything funny and you're dead, you hear me?" Makarov smiled softly, seemed like he was pretty happy.

"So, can I stay here? I'm too tired to go back."

"Of course you are, and there's a guest bedroom downstairs, just sleep in there for now I guess.." Menendez went back into his room as Makarov followed behind him to go downstairs from his room. "So, goodnight? I'll see you in the morning and hope that none of your men come in and kill me in my sleep." Makarov simply left his room and closed the door, now Menendez was alone again. He sighed and flopped onto his bed and curled up in his blanket. "..How the fuck did I even get here, how did this happen." He asked himself, just tired of everything. He quickly dozed off, questioning how he's going to explain to Cordis Die in the morning.

A/N : I'm sorry if this is pretty short, I kinda lost the motivation close to the end. I hope you like this though! May write more in the future.

[mrspillow]

Hello. Can I ask for a scenario for Zancrow Belvran and the fem!Reader (member of the Fairy Tail guild)? Zancrow decides to change and join the Fairy Tail in order to be closer to the fem!Reader. Please, if you don't mind.

It took me a bit longer than I expected but here it is!

I kind of started with writing how they met and I hope that it is okay for you, so please enjoy!

Benign (Zancrow x Reader)

“Let's just hope that I don’t have to take care of some serious wounds”, you stated with a small smile and got back to cutting the vegetables while your companion was already busy with the pot.

“Knowing Natsu that might become problematic”, she answered and both of you grinned simultaneously.

The weather was calm, and the hot sun was burning on the Tenrou Island, Fairy Tail’s holy ground, only blocked by the white tent of the camp. You were not here for the first time but still, the island managed to catch your breath every time you came here – and no, not as a competitor.

It might be true that your magic in particular was not made for offense but the ability to heal wounds – those of others and yourself – made you a valued member of the guild (and often needed, considering Fairy Tail’s reputation)

And on occasions like this, you were more than happy to follow Makarov’s request and make sure that nobody died because of some magicians overdoing it in the heat of battle. And you loved helping your comrades in every way you could.

Suddenly, smoke made its way towards the sky, sneaking up near the horizon and Erza was the first one to notice it.

Concentrating on the thin line of black, she squinted her eyes, tracking each and every movement carefully.

“That’s not good”, she started, her voice full of concern for the approaching danger “I don’t think it’s coming from the others.”

Faster than you could process it, Erza dropped everything and changed the apron back to her armor. If you weren’t already alarmed by Erza’s behavior, you certainly were when you heard the faraway explosions.

Steps came closer and Mirajane came into view, the same certain look in her eyes when she made eye contact with Erza and nodded. Without another word, Mira stormed off into the woods, leaving you to hope she would be okay.

“You stay here, (Y/N)”, Erza didn’t bother asking for your opinion but you trusted her judgment enough to not question it in times like this “Everyone knows the camp is here and if there are injuries, I need you to stay here and take care of everybody, okay?”

You nodded silently and she only smiled back before she took off to who-knows-where and left you alone. It didn’t take long before you started to grow fidgety, trying to calm your nervous hands while playing with an (h/c) strand of your hair but it didn’t quite work. Every rustle coming from the trees, every whisper of the wind, and even the animals of the wood seemed like a potential threat to your heightened senses.

It was then, that flares shot out into the sky, burning bright and hot enough to smolder the leaves of some trees. Confused, you watched the red of the flames mix with a kind of black you had never seen before.

What the hell is that?

Making a few steps forward, you followed the flames until you found yourself running fast. Erza told you to stay in place and you knew that, but something drew you closer to whatever was happening there, and it gave you a bad feeling in your stomach. So much, that you could feel that someone needed help direly.

You ran until you could no longer see the flames in the sky and you realized how far away you had come from the camp where you were supposed to be, you weren’t sure if you would find the way back.

And then, for a good few seconds, you heard nothing but your breathing and your heart beating fast in your chest and you wondered if your intuition had failed you or if you had taken the wrong direction when your hearing picked up coughing so quiet that it would have been easy to miss. However, you didn’t miss it.

It did not take you long to reach a small clearing in the wood and immediately, you could feel rays of sunshine warm your face, making you forget the reason you came here for a moment but then you heard the cough again.

At first, only a mop of thick blond hair came into view and the longer you stared at the mass of hair, the more you realized that you didn’t know whoever was lying there, so you moved cautiously.

“Who is there?”, a hoarse voice croaked, and you stopped in your movements because you couldn’t hide any longer. The whole clearing seemed to get wrapped in a thick layer of silence when you finally managed to speak up.

“Please stay calm”, you responded, your voice quivering way too much for your taste “I’m only here to help if you let me.”

The person didn’t reply so you took it as a sign that you could get closer, even if it was slowly, but you couldn’t risk getting hurt yourself for healing it would cost you more strength and magic power than you could muster.

The closer you came, the more you could see of the mysterious person. It was a young man, around your age if you had to guess, with long blond spiky hair that you could even see from afar but more significant were the burns on his whole body like you had seen way too often (it took you, like, a second to know that those were coming from Natsu) and assuming from how intense they were, he got a pretty bad beating.

Your gaze trailed first down and then up to his upper body to take in the extent of these injuries when your eyes got stuck on the big black tattoo on his right shoulder. Your body froze for a second when deep red eyes med your (e/c) ones and you remembered what Levy and you were talking about just days ago.

Grimoire Heart, one of the most dangerous dark guilds the continent has ever known, had been the one that attacked Tenrou Island, the place that was like a second home to every member of Fairy Tail. You knew instinctively that someone wearing this guild sign meant not only trouble but a threat to the guild and your life.

And even if you knew that, you couldn’t help but feel his pain like it was your own.

“What are you staring at?”, he barked and tried to sit up, but lied back down while hissing very quickly “You like the view of your enemy on the ground, fairy?”

You didn’t answer his provoking but instead sat down beside him and held up your arms in a peaceful manner to show your good intentions. Soft green light started emitting from your hands as soon as you let them hoover over his body.

“Hey, are you mute? Don’t you dare touch me with those freaky hands of yours!”, the blond was nearly shouting and tried to crawl away, but it was no use with those wounds of his. Still, he started to exasperate you.

“Please”, you took a breath before you continued “just let me help you. You are hurt and with healing magic, I can make it better, but I need you to trust me for just a few seconds. Is that possible?”

For whatever reason, the young man seemed to stop struggling and stared at you to the point where you were growing uncomfortable.

“Why would you even do that?”, he suddenly asked, his voice dripping with spite and a tad of bitterness but his eyes seemed devoid of any emotion, just deep red staring straight into your soul “I am the enemy and you would be better off with just letting me rot to death.”

“I just want to help you so what does it matter if you are my enemy?”, you asked with furrowed brows “I am human and so are you and that is what is most important.”

He went quiet so you started working on his injuries, giving your all so he wouldn’t feel any pain, but you still could hear his labored breathing. It took you only some minutes, but he still wasn’t completely healed, now it would just need some time for him to be as good as new.

You leaned back to breathe in when he sat up slowly as not to open the wounds again. Sitting across from you, his eyes were fixated on your face entirely, taking in every feature he could discover, but he didn’t make any move at all.

“Zancrow”, he simply said, and it took you more time than it should to figure out that it seemed to be his name “What’s your name?”

“…huh?”, you mumbled and blinked a few times before you processed his question “Oh! I’m (Y/N), nice to meet you.”

“You’re weird”, he replied shamelessly and crossed his arms in front of his chest before giving you a strange look before he sighed “But I guess you’re nice.”

 “Here we are”, you said and stopped walking forward to look at the old and creaky building in the middle of nowhere “Everything will be alright, Zancrow.”

You kind of said it to yourself, but also to calm the person to your left. The blonde seemed okay, but you knew that he was fiddling with it on the inside, mostly because of all the things that had happened. Remembering the day that both he and you managed to flee the Tenrou Island before hell had gone loose. And how he had knocked you unconscious so that you wouldn’t protest and dragged you off the island but you still regretted leaving your comrades there.

Automatically, your eyes went to his right shoulder where there had been his guild symbol, but just as you expected, it wasn’t there anymore, and that fact made you smile internally.

“This place smells strange”, he concluded after a short time and his resting scowl lifted for the blink of an eye and he moved closer to you so that his body was mere inches from yours “But it smells like you, so I’ll like it.”

You didn’t answer but a small blush crept onto your cheeks and you didn’t even try to conceal it, he knew it anyway.

“You don’t have to be scared, Fairy Tail is a guild where everyone can belong”, you mumbled under your breath and squeezed his hand lightly to reassure him “They will like you.”

“I am not scared”, he barked childishly but you only shook your head and laughed, so he continued more seriously “But I told you that I don’t want to be the way I was before anymore. Not just so that you would be proud of me but I want to return the favor you did me back then.”

You nodded and with a deep breath, you took a step forward, into the future.

[takusanno]

HEADCANON: Rogue & Gajeel

Minor note: In canon, Rogue (along with Sting and Wendy) is about 5 years old when sent through to the year X777. I am bumping his age up a couple of years, it’s just a small detail but a 7-year-old learning that kind of magic just seems slightly more realistic. So Rogue was 7 in X777 and 20/21 in X791.

Also this post is not specific to any particular portrayal and i’m always up for discussing things!

In the year of X783, Rogue (age 12/13) heard of the guild Phantom Lord and of its most infamous member, Gajeel Redfox, the Iron Dragon slayer. Interested in meeting a fellow slayer, Rogue ventured to Phantom Lord and swiftly felt a drive to fight Gajeel as soon as he got close to him.

Rogue did not admire him nor did he look up to him as an idol of sorts, he viewed Gajeel as a rival and challenge to beat. This was fueled largely by dragon instinct, due to the Shadow-Iron dragon conflict, and because Gajeel was the first dragon slayer Rogue came across after arriving in X777 (that point might change with plotting with other dragon slayer muses) and Rogue felt the natural instinct for territorial challenge.

Rogue was interested in Gajeel’s strength and wanted to beat him to prove to himself that he was strong, and that Shadow Dragons were superior. He studied Gajeel and followed him in the shadows to learn his style and any weaknesses.

Choosing to go under the name Ryos at the time, Rogue approached Gajeel for a fight and stated that he wanted to join Phantom Lord. Gajeel rather easily punched him away and said he wouldn’t waste time fighting a weak little kid, and that Phantom wouldn’t accept him (Rogue) as he was so pathetic.

That only motivated Rogue to try get stronger, to best Gajeel and take over his ‘territory’. He continued to train and to challenge Gajeel (showing some improvement each time), and the Iron Dragon slayer showed now mercy in smacking him away each time, at times going to the extremes he was feared for. Not only did Gajeel frequently attack Rogue (even when Rogue hadn’t outright made a move against him), but he also was verbally vicious and repeatedly taunted Rogue for being weak and worthless.

At times, guildmaster Jose warned Gajeel about going too far, and suggested that it would be good for the guild if Rogue did join. Jose was not usually inclined to have ‘kids’ in his guild (in contrast to Makarov who often had several young members running around), but the idea of having two slayers in his guild was highly appealing. During one of those times, Gajeel was particularly rough with Rogue, beating him and sending him crashing through a wall, stating that it would ruin their image if they let a little runt of a dragon in. Juvia was the only Phantom member to check if Rogue was alright.

When Rogue recovered from that incident, he was still determined to overcome Gajeel and he redoubled his efforts with training.

Not long after, the guild-war of Phantom Lord and Fairy Tail came.  It ended with Phantom being disbanded, and Rogue’s goal of joining and surpassing Gajeel disappeared. Without Phantom and Gajeel to focus on, Rogue was lost. And what he couldn’t understand was how Gajeel then joined the very guild he had warred with, Fairy Tail.

For a while, Rogue did contemplate continuing to challenge Gajeel, and he gained an interest in Natsu as the Fire Dragon slayer had done what he’d thought was impossible, beat Gajeel. However, he felt a strange sense of betrayal at the way Gajeel had joined Fairy Tail and decided perhaps Gajeel wasn’t worth fighting.

He didn’t get a chance to rethink that, as Fairy Tail’s core members disappeared on Tenrou Island several months later.

When Fairy Tail returned 7 years later, though Rogue was now an adult and had more control over his emotions, the rivalry he felt for Gajeel returned as well.

Then the Grand Magic Games came. Rogue only had one goal in mind upon seeing Gajeel entering - he had to fight him, and he had to win. For all the times that Gajeel had put him down, had beaten him, for all the times he had laughed in his face and made him feel worthless, Rogue wanted to show him what he had become, and he was determined to beat him. Rogue did not win, he put up a good fight but alas he did not win, and it brought back some terrible memories.

The Iron Dragon slayer of Phantom Lord was brutal, cold, and heartless, he often attacked his own guildmates, and the respect he had was gained mostly through fear. The Gajeel of present, of Fairy Tail, is different, though still brutal and not someone to be trifled with.

This change is not something Rogue is easily accepting of, he can’t forget the way he was treated by Gajeel and so he still remains somewhat sceptical of him. He will always remember the man who beat him down every time he challenged him, and that will take a long time to get rid of.

And although the dragonblood rivalry is mostly suppressed and he has a great deal more composure and self-control now, he can’t relax around him or stop his temper flaring more easily when around him.

[tangentmoth]

You’re one of the living; who’s gonna make it tonight?

Zdravstvuyte, fellow Stalkers!  Tangentmoth is back, with another installment of Scorch the Skies, a collection of loosely interconnected fics bridging Clear Sky and Shadow of Chernobyl, from the point of view of the NPCs our protagonists meet along the way.  (Because someone’s got to care about the Some Gremlins of this obscure, underappreciated fandom, and it might as well be me.)

Chapter 1: Sailor Take Warning

Chapter 2: The Bad Death of General Krylov

There’re a lot of unanswered questions in between Clear Sky and Shadow of Chernobyl, and none so engrossing as the complete disappearance of the title characters of Clear Sky themselves.  Which brings us to this week’s Gremlin: Nimble, the Wedge Antilles of the S.T.A.L.K.E.R. universe, and one of only two known survivors of the Clear Sky faction.  

(A/N: This turned out to be a much longer fic than I expected it to be, and will thus be released in two parts.)

Chapter 3: Ishmael (Part I)

“And only I am escaped alone to tell thee…

     - Moby Dick (paraphrasing the book of Job)

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

He doesn’t know exactly how long he’s been running.  More than a day, is the best he can figure.  There was darkness at one point.  Now it’s light again, for a given value of “light”.  It all blurs together in the storm.

Sometimes there are lulls in the storm, when the downpour lightens and the lightning stops flashing and the thunder quiets for an hour, two, three.  Those are the times when he rests, when he hides among the hummocks and the reeds. The storm is his friend, right now.  The thunder hides the sound of his passage as he slogs through the Swamps, the curtains of rain and wind obscure his movements, the lightning blinds the eyes of his pursuers.  Mutants, mostly.

But not just mutants.  

He avoids the farmsteads and the ruined villages and the tumbledown old Orthodox church, all the places that had once been theirs, or mostly theirs.  He’s dead exhausted and he wants to stop, hole up in one of the old buildings and dry off and fucking sleep, but he can’t afford to take the chance.  They might be waiting in one of the buildings, or all of them.  Better to just keep moving.  He’s got plenty of energy drinks in his pack, two Flashes in the set of lead-lined pouches at his belt, accurate maps on his PDA.  He can run for days.  But which way?

Not east.  Definitely not east.  He knows he could slip past the military outpost’s machine guns and make it to the Cordon, he’s done it half a dozen times running errands for Suslov or Kalancha, it’s how he got his nickname.  He and Vasya had been running that way to begin with, until they’d stumbled on what was left of Suslov.

The circle.  The heads.  

Vasya had freaked out and run.  Hadn’t paid attention, hadn’t noticed the way the rain was warping and spiraling around itself just ahead of him.  No more Vasya.

North.  North to the railroad tracks, then up through Hunter’s Woods.  He could cut over to the Main Road from there…

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

Nimble was lost.  Really, really fucking lost.

He’d gotten to the woods okay.  That part had been alright, except for a couple of Snorks.  Thank fuck for Vasya’s SPAS-12.  Way better than his sad old sawed-off.  He’d taken a couple of swipes, nothing serious, and the combat shottie had laid the Snorks out without much of a fuss.  It was worth the injuries just to be away from the Great Swamps.  No more slogging through the marshes, looking over his shoulder, every minute expecting those...freaks to ambush him and put his head on another pike.  When I get to the Cordon, I’ll buy a bottle and toast Vasya’s memory, he’d thought.  I’ll toast all of their memories.  And then sleep.  Sleep for a week.

Except he couldn’t find the Cordon.  He couldn’t find the fucking road.

He had exited the woods to find himself in rocky, scrubby hill country littered with tangled junk and scrap metal.  The Garbage, according to the maps on his PDA, which told him he was south of some old industrial complex and west of the Main Road.  Good.  Great.  Except then he’d tried to climb a hill for a good vantage and his dosimeter started clicking so fast it was screeching. He’d panicked, tripped and gone tumbling ass-over-end down the hillside in his haste to get back down.  A dumbass rookie move if there’d ever been one. The PDA was still up there on that hill somewhere  With the maps.  

I, Nimble had thought, lying dazed in a bush with his right sleeve shredded to the elbow, am fucked.

There was still the sun to navigate by, at least, but the Garbage was slow going overland.  Terrifyingly slow.  If the dosimeter wasn’t going apeshit, it was the anomaly alarm  It felt like he was wasting fifteen minutes worth of nervous bolt-chucking for every fifteen meters he progressed.  The hills were crawling with blind dogs and the occasional boar, and he was running perilously low on shotgun shells.  Pretty soon he’d be reduced to his shitty little Makarov.  He was exhausted, his injuries were hurting like hell, and he was starting to feel sick despite the Fireball he was carrying.  

Worst of all, the sun was starting to set.

It went down as he skirted around a jumbled pile of what looked like construction crane parts.  For a long minute Nimble just stood and watched, unmindful of the constant click of the dosimeter, until there was nothing left of the light but a faint stripe of slightly lighter blue against the junk-strewn western horizon.  He was alone, in this godforsaken irradiated no-man’s-land, with no PDA to navigate with or call for help, too little ammo and no medicine.  At night.

I am fucked.

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

“Vnimanie!  Anekdot!”

Wolf grinned to himself, listening to the others tell their campfire stories.  He’d never admit it, but this was one of the things he liked best about life in the Zone.  Not the firefights, not the thrill of picking your way through minefields of anomalies (or sometimes just literal minefields, if you spent most of your time in the Cordon like Wolf did), not the strange and hazardous wonder of the artifacts.  Just a bunch of fellow stalkers gathered together around a fire, drinking, playing music, and telling stories to ward off the night.

Tonight he was camped out at the old scrapyard with Bes, Bes’s crew, and a small gaggle of Cordon rookies.  The Garbage was a radioactive, anomaly-strewn shithole he normally preferred to avoid unless he was just passing through, but his new crop of rookies were another story.  The Big Blowout had blasted artifacts out of seemingly every anomaly south of Rostok, enough of them that they were just scattered over the the hills like so much shrapnel and you didn’t even need a detector to locate them.  Most of them weren’t of much use (or value, for that matter), but of course the newbies all had fucking stars in their eyes and had taken off from the Cordon like a bunch of greenhorn Alaskan prospectors who just heard there was gold in them thar hills. Wolf had followed, not because he particularly wanted to but because most of these kids were going to die without a babysitter.  Hideously.

“...so Pravik and me, we’re searching the bodies and we hear a ‘whoosh’, and you know what we saw?  A bandit spinning in midair!  Must have been trying to get the drop on us, til that whirligig got the drop on him!  Stupid gopnik too drunk to throw a bolt.”

Wolf snorted, passing a bottle of vodka Bes’s way.  Good stuff, too, not that Cossacks rotgut that was a hryvnia a dozen in the Zone.  A working relationship with Sidorovich had its perks.  And Bes was a good man and a good friend, an experienced Stalker who knew this whole area like the back of his hand. 

Bes took a swig, nodded his approval, then shot a skeptical eyebrow at the storytelling rookie.  “Your clothes look mighty clean for someone downwind of a bandit caught in a whirligig,” he pointed out drily.

“See, that’s the best part though!  It never went off all the way, so he just stayed up there spinning around like a flying saucer!  Might even still be up there for all we know!”

That got them all cracking up, Bes included, and Wolf almost missed it--would have missed it, if not for the sixth sense most veterans gained after a while in the Zone: the sound of footsteps on gravel.

“Shut up, all of you!” he barked, raising his hand in a curt ‘quiet!’ motion and hoping the rookies would take the hint.  He got to his feet, rifle at the ready.  Bes and his men followed suit, a bare instant behind Wolf.  Good.

The footsteps grew louder as they approached, and now they could see the flicker of a headlamp coming from the western end of the old vehicle graveyard.  Not a bandit, Wolf didn’t think; a bandit would have either darted behind cover or opened fire by now.  A Loner, then, most likely...but why hadn’t he announced himself?

“You there!” Bes called.  “Who goes there?”

The figure staggered on toward them, finally close enough for Wolf to make out in the beam of his headlamp.  A skinny guy in some kind of camo fatigues--it was impossible to make out the color in this light--and what looked like a retooled military flak vest that had seen much, much better days.  One sleeve was completely shredded, and there was a bloody bandage around his right thigh.  His face was white, his eyes wide and starey.  

“What the hell?” one of the rookies muttered.

“...don’t...don’t shoot….” the intruder croaked  “Don’t shoot, please…”  Then he fell to his knees, vomiting.

“Shit,” Wolf muttered, running up to the man and dropping down onto one knee next to him.  Up close, he could see the guy was no older than most of his rookies, and that he was puking up mostly blood and bile.  Shit, shit, shit.  “Hang on, man,” he grunted.

He lugged the sick Stalker to his feet, slinging an arm around his shoulders and half-dragging, half-carrying him over to one of the bedrolls arranged around the fire.  Drifter, one of the brighter rookies and the one Wolf had pegged as Most Likely to Survive a Year, held out a canteen of purified water and a medkit, but Wolf shook his head.  “Get me one of the better ones out of my pack.  Should be in a yellow box.”  He’d traded for those from the Ecologists up at Lake Yantar, and they were worth every ruble.  “And the pack of antirad syrettes.”

“Waste of meds,” one of Bes’s men grumbled as Drifter tossed him the packages.  “Better to put him out of his misery now.”

“When I want your opinion I’ll ask for it,” Wolf snarled back.  The sick Stalker was retching again, groaning.  Wolf ripped the wrapper off of a pre-loaded antirad syringe, bit the cap off, and jammed the needle into the Stalker’s hip.  The kid yelped, and Wolf figured that for a good sign.  He followed the antirads with a dose of morphine out of the scientists’ medkit, then squatted back on his heels to get a better look while the meds kicked in and the young Stalker got his breath back.

In the firelight, at close inspection, the Stalker looked like 500km of bad road run hard.  There was definitely bullet damage to the vest, which probably meant bruised or broken ribs underneath.  The wound on the right thigh looked like claw slashes from an mutant attack, and the shredded sleeve revealed what was either a badly infected scrape or a nasty beta burn all the way up his forearm--probably both, considering the dirt here.  There wasn’t much left of the man’s pack but the straps, but he was very obviously carrying three or four artifacts in the pouches on his utility belt--one of them a Fireball, judging from the heat Wolf could feel radiating even through the lead lining.  A savvy choice that had probably saved the man’s life here, where you could eat 200 rem just picking the wrong path to walk down.

He set about stripping off the vest and cutting off the old bandages so he could get at the unfortunate Stalker’s injuries, talking to him while he did so in the hopes of keeping him conscious.  “Lucky you didn’t get shot for a bandit, wandering in here in the middle of the night like that,” he chided.  “Fuck, you’re lucky you didn’t get shot by a bandit out here.  Garbage is crawling with the scum.  You got a name, friend?”

“...Nimble,” the Stalker managed, voice slurred and gravelly from the vomiting and the drugs. “...was trying to find the Cordon...come up through the Woods, then down the road...thought...I was safe…but I got lost…lost my PDA, dogs got my pack...thought I was dead, til I saw your fire.”

The Stalker’s clothes were filthy, caked in mud and blood, but there was a patch on his shoulder that caught Wolf’s eye--not the usual black-on-yellow radiation symbol that most Loners wore, though.  Two birds flying over the rising sun, on a sky-blue field.  The writing underneath was half-obscured by mud, but Wolf could read it just the same. Chistoye Nebo.

Clear Sky.

Wolf glanced up at Bes, beckoning him over.  “You came up from the Great Swamps?”

Nimble nodded weakly, eyes glassy.  Bes looked him over, eyes narrowing with suspicion  “Nobody in the Great Swamps but bandits.  Call themselves Renegades, like they’re a legitimate faction.”  He spat to the side.  

Nimble shook his head, crying out as Wolf poured antiseptic solution over the inflamed claw slashes in his thigh.  “Not me...not us.  We were down there too. Clear Sky.   Nobody...ah fuck!....nobody knew...just a few people, the trader at the Cordon, a doctor up in Yantar….”

“He’s telling the truth,” Wolf said  “I’ve seen his folks at the village.  They come in to trade with Sidorovich every now and again, if they manage to make it past the military outpost.  Some kind of armed science unit, eggheads with guns.  What the hell are you doing up here in the Garbage, kid, all by yourself?  This is a bad, bad place to be lost.”

“...came up through the woods...” Nimble slurred.  The drugs were really hitting hard now; he could barely string words together.  “...nobody left down there…..just me...Vasya fell in an anomaly and died….they got everyone else, but I outran them….”

Wolf frowned at that.  “They?  The bandits, the Renegades or whatever?”

Nimble’s eyes slowly closed.  “...not bandits...don’t know who they were….came after the blowout, in the night….burned our place, killed everyone...I saw Trodnik, he was with them, but he wasn’t..he wasn’t him....they killed everyone…”  He trailed off, head lolling to the side.

Wolf finished re-bandaging the young Stalker’s injuries and sat back, still frowning.  He looked over at Bes.  “That make any sense to you?”

Bes shrugged.  “Kid’s rad-sick and doped to the gills.  Who knows what the hell he’s talking about.  What are you going to do with him?”

“Take him back to the village, if he makes it through the night.” And Wolf thought he would make it through the night.  Young and skinny as he was, he was clearly tougher than he looked--tough enough and smart enough to have evaded whatever had befallen his comrades down in the Swamps, to have survived wandering the woods and the Garbage for what must have been days.  Wolf knew experienced stalkers who might not have made it.  He admired Nimble for it.  But he was unsettled by the kid’s story, filtered through delirium though it was.  

I saw Trodnik, he was with them, but he wasn’t...he wasn’t him…

He knew Ivan Trodnik.  He was a Guide, a rare, valuable, and dangerous trade here in the Zone, and he was good at his job.  He’d worked the routes from Cordon all the way up through Rostok and beyond, before moving south to map the Great Swamps.  Wolf had last seen him maybe two or three weeks ago, dressed in blue-and-white fatigues and good armor with the same Clear Sky patch on his shoulder, escorting a big Merc to see Sidorovich.  Clearly he’d joined these people at some point.  Had he betrayed them?  To who?  What had Nimble meant by “he wasn’t him”, or had that just been the delirium talking?  It was bothering him.

Something bad had happened to the Clear Sky faction, that was certain, and Wolf wanted to know what the hell it was.  The Great Swamps weren’t far from the Cordon and the rookie village.  If there was a chance of trouble moving north toward them, Wolf wanted to be ready for it. 

They came in the night...they killed everyone...

He stayed awake, smoking, listening to the groans and shrieks of the Zone and the survivor’s ragged, labored breathing, for the rest of the night.

[mdelpin]

To Kill A Dragon - Chapter 8

Previous: Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Next: Ch 9

Chapter 8: Friend or Foe?

A chorus of "WHAT?!" erupted in the Fairy Tail guild library as everyone gaped at the healer in disbelief.

"I'm sorry, I could have sworn you just said that Natsu was pregnant," Lyon repeated dumbly, trying to wrap his head around the healer's announcement.

"That's exactly what I said."

"But how could that be? He's a guy," Lucy pointed out, earning herself a glare from the healer.

"Natsu did mention she tricked him into taking some sort of solution to induce a dragon heat," Laxus said sheepishly, knowing full well he had purposefully left out that information.

Makarov studied his grandson thoughtfully, wondering what else Laxus was keeping from them.

"Yes, he did say that, but he also mentioned the solution was created to keep dragons from dying out," Porlyusica corrected him.

"That's what made me decide to test him in the first place. If I had the solution here, I could analyze it, but my guess is it was actually some kind of fertility drug for dragons. Tiamat used it to impregnate him, and now a demigod is growing inside of him."

"How long will the pregnancy last?" Makarov inquired before anyone could say something that would upset Porlyusica.

"How the hell am I supposed to know what the gestation period is for a magically induced pregnancy of a demigod in a male?" Porlyusica screeched at Makarov.

She was starting to get agitated again. She didn't like being around people on the best of days, and she was quickly reaching her limit. The idiotic looks on all of their faces were not helping.

"Have you told him already?" Makarov asked her quietly.

"Of course not! He's too weak, both physically and emotionally at the moment to handle any of this. I recommend you don't tell him until he's had a chance to deal with his torture and captivity. Hopefully, he won't have any symptoms for a while." Porlyusica left the library and made her way back to the infirmary.

The room remained silent as they all watched her disappear up the stairs. Moments later Sting and Rogue made their way into the library, matching horrified expressions etched across their faces.

"Did that crazy woman actually say that Natsu is pregnant?" Sting looked to Laxus for confirmation.

The sound of laughter erupted in the room. Everyone looked for the source of the sound. Gray was laughing, tears flowing freely from his eyes as he finally snapped from the stress he'd been under since Natsu had disappeared. He noticed everyone looking at him worriedly and wiped the tears from his eyes, still chuckling to himself.

"I'm sorry, I know it's not funny, but I mean, seriously, only Natsu could manage to go from rejecting Erza to getting himself knocked up by a god in three days. He's never even been on a date! It's completely ridiculous," Gray's voice changed from amusement to sadness as he realized the truth of his statement.

Natsu had never gotten the chance to enjoy physical closeness with anyone on his own terms. It really wasn't fair for this to happen to him. Erza put her arm around his shoulder, pulling him in for a half-hug, but he shrugged her off.

"Let's keep this information between us for now. I don't want Natsu finding out by overhearing someone talking about it in the guild," Makarov instructed the small group in the library. "We will wait until he is doing better to tell him," The Fairy Tail master viewed Gray with concern, not quite sure what to do for him.

"Sting, go upstairs and have Porlyusica test you," Makarov ordered.

"What? No, that's ridiculous. I didn't drink anything when I was with her, and I feel fine."

Makarov glanced at Rogue Cheney, who nodded and dragged the protesting master of Sabertooth up to the infirmary. He then took Laxus upstairs to his office for a private talk.

Erza, Gray, and Lyon left the researchers and made their way back to the main guild room. They sat at a table near the back, quietly absorbing the shocking news they had just received when the large wooden doors of the guild entrance opened.

They watched curiously as two men entered the hall. The men looked around the guild nervously, as if they were looking for someone. They were wearing cloaks with some kind of symbol on the back but were too far away for them to make it out.

Mira hurried over to welcome them, and when the men turned to greet her, they were able to see the symbol. Five differently colored dragon heads joined at the neck to make a circle.

Erza reacted first. She requipped a sword into her hand and hurried towards the two men, violence implied in every step. Gray got up to follow her but stopped for a minute, looking up towards the infirmary.

"Go tell the dragon slayers to stay out of sight," Gray ordered Lyon quietly but urgently. The Lamia Scale mage quickly got up and hurried upstairs.

Gray walked quickly to stand next to Erza, his face impassive, but his stance leaving no doubt he was ready for battle.

xxx

A giant five headed dragon flew above the clouds. Now that Tiamat had both the white and red dragon's powers, she was capable of holding her dragon form for more extended periods.

It had been several days since she'd set fire to the building where she had been held captive, but Tiamat still felt satisfaction from the surprised looks on the cultists' faces. Looks that had quickly turned to terror when they realized she was outside the magic sealing stone where they had kept her prisoner.

She could still hear their agonized screams as they burned from her fire. They were melodious, like music to her ears. She wasn't sure if she'd gotten them all, but she was confident they would not be coming for her anytime soon. Tiamat was free.

'Fools,' she thought, annoyed by their hubris, 'They really thought they could contain me with that pathetic binding spell.'

She had spent the time since following a faint dragon scent that she hoped would lead her to the black dragon Acnologia. A chromatic dragon of that caliber would be an excellent ally to have.

Tiamat was determined to restore dragons to their former glory and undo all the tragedy that Igneel and his friends had caused. Once that happened, the humans were going to pay for their insolence. She would bring about a new age of dragons, and this time, there wouldn't be enough dragon slayers to stop her.

Tiamat continued to follow the trail over a range of mountains. She was hungry and had begun to tire, but an enticing smell caught her attention, and she dove towards it.

She followed it to a patch of grass where a group of goats was calmly grazing. After making quick work of them, she looked for a cave to shelter her while she rested.

Tiamat flew higher until she saw a cave large enough to suit her purposes. She walked inside and sniffed to make sure she was alone. That faint dragon smell was present here, but it was old. Once satisfied, she changed back to her Dark Lady avatar, lay down and went to sleep content and with a full belly. She woke to a rustling noise outside and moved cautiously to seek it out.

Even though it was still mostly dark out, she could detect a man standing outside the cave. He was muscular with spiky, long, dark blue hair. Blue markings covered his body. He looked at her haughtily, but there was no hiding the air of danger that surrounded him, and even though he appeared unarmed, she was instantly wary.

"What are you doing in my cave?" he asked her angrily.

"I sought shelter, but I will be happy to be on my way," Tiamat sniffed the air carefully, trying to determine what it was about this man that had her on edge.

The man narrowed his eyes at her when he noticed what she was doing and began to do the same. He looked surprised at whatever he found and immediately got into a battle stance.

"Who are you? Are you the one who has been following me?"

She stiffened as she finally recognized the scent she had been following pouring off this man. How could that be? She changed into her dragon form and took to the air. She hovered above him.

"I am Tiamat, Dragon Goddess and Queen of the Chromatic Dragons. I am looking for the black dragon they call Acnologia. Why do you smell like him, are you his dragon slayer?"

Acnologia quickly changed into his dragon form and took to the sky, leaving room between them for the moment. He roared with laughter.

"Indeed I am, Your Highness," he said mockingly, "Did you think I was a black dragon? All the dragons are dead. I made sure of that over four hundred years ago. All except for you, I thought you had been banished during the War."

He was getting excited at the idea of fighting a proper dragon, a goddess no less. It had been a long time since he'd had a truly good fight. One where the outcome was not decided before the battle began.

"YOU, A LOWLY HUMAN, KILLED MY PRECIOUS DRAGONS?" Tiamat roared.

Her voice echoed through the mountains, sounding like a judgment from the heavens themselves. She was furious, and her heart instantly filled with hatred. She'd been looking to make an alliance with the black dragon, but now, now she just wanted to destroy him. Tear him limb from limb with her claws and fangs and blast him with all her magic. But that would be mercy after what he'd done, so she would heal him so she could do it over and over until he begged her for death.

She flew at him, her red head already roaring dragon fire at Acnologia, hotter than any mere dragon slayer could manage. Her white head simultaneously attacking with holy light. Her other three heads were divided between hurling insults at the black dragon and encouraging the fighting heads on in their assault.

Acnologia quickly dodged her attacks and responded with his own dragon roar. Tiamat flew out of the way of most of it, but she'd already been tired before she got to the cave and knew she wouldn't be able to fight for very long.

She could already see she was going to require more power than what she currently had to be able to defeat him. She needed to get away so she could get the rest of her magic from the last three dragon slayers. Only then would she be able to destroy him. She concentrated all of her remaining magic into one spell and teleported herself away from Acnologia.

She was sure the dragons slayers were already huddled in Magnolia with Fairy Tail, so she decided to head to Era. The poison dragon slayer was isolated and should make for an easy target.

A/N: Making progress! Hoping to get a few more of these out this week.

[csykora]

hey i've been meaning to ask this, but would you mind explaining to me in general terms (or specific, if you're so inclined, i like detailed explanations but I don't want to give the impression that I expect them), like, What Happened With Alex Semin That Makes Everyone So Weird About Him? I know you've referenced a complicated legacy that makes caps fans weird about him, and maybe some way that caps fans/ western hockey culture/the nhl wronged him, but wikipedia was not very helpful (1/?)

3/3) None of that as presented seems, like, worthy of the level of weirdness/erasure that you've mentioned/hinted at, so I'm assuming there's a lot more complexity and detail involved here, which I would love to understand.

First, I need to say this, you are an utter doll. You’re out there reading and questioning and investigating further and it’s all so great.

And you’re right, on dry paper the whole thing is pretty weird.

There isn’t a smoking gun, here. I’m not going to point at a particular coach or GM and tell you, “They made a poor or a prejudiced decision, and the rest of us are fine.” A staggering number of things happened to happen to Semin. Each one of them didn’t mean so much by themselves. But I think the fact that they happened, and kept happening, and were expected to happen, all to him says a lot about us.

What there is is a context, and then there’s a story here. I think what a lot of us missed at the time, and are still missing, is how they fit together.

So I’m gonna drag us all through both. Congratulations: you get two posts.

I’m traveling through Montréal, so I come down to grab coffee in just a jersey and my little pink running shorts.  I’m not surprised when a man stops me. He asks what’s up, am I Russian, am I a Caps fan. “Oh, yeah,” I say.

“Yeah, yeah. They’re a great team every year,” he says, for the benefit of the man next to him. “No luck in the postseason though!”

The second man is Danish, and nervous, stuck between us. “You have a big rivalry?” he asks.

I have a personal rivalry with Les Habitants. “Oh, no,” I say.

I negotiate. If I admit I grew up watching the Canadiens as my hometown team, the first man will quiz me. So it’s friendly overture #2, angling towards him to show him the back of my sweater. The first man isn’t looking. “My favorite guy, Alexander Syomin, he played up here for a bit.”

I pronounce it that way, Сёмин, not an Anglicized eh. We can come back to that.

He admires my sweater. “Good player?” he tries.

“Oh, yeah, real skilled player,” the first man says, checking back in. And then, like he’s watching Semin backcheck right now, like the insight just struck him, “Lazy, though.”

“Oh, no,” I say, reassuring the Dane. “That’s just he plays Russian hockey, it just looks different than Canadian style, so some people think it looks like that.”

First man says, “Ovechkin doesn’t play like that.”

Of course he says that.

“Oh,” I say, laugh, cut him off. “Nobody plays like Ovechkin.”

(The Dane is looking between us like he’s about to ask how these people died.)

Something percolates through the first man’s mind. “Who’s your favorite player?”

And I turn around and walk away. He says, “Oh,” reading my shoulders. He hadn’t heard a word except the opening to tell me what he already Knew.

Listen, I don’t like feeling rude. But I was about to be late to interview for a graduate research position in hockey biomechanics, and I already knew I needed to go put on pants and fold Semin’s name back into a suitcase if I wanted them to respect me.

I’m not being dramatic so much as I’m trying to show the odd way that we all know things.  That man knew I wasn’t an expert, because I don’t look like one. We all know my favorite player isn’t a good player because he doesn’t look like one.

(And I don’t mean the ethnocentrism and neurotypical judgements we paint all over his face, although that’ll come back into it.)

G, you might be saying, that guy was a stock character of a misogynist hockey fan. Of course he only saw what he expected to. Well, here’s one thing: we all kind of think like that. Of course we don’t know when we aren’t seeing things that conflict with our view. Just keep that in mind when we talk about Russia.

And when we watch hockey, a good amount of the time, our eyes are telling us real persuasive narratives. There are certain visual cues in the game that we think mean good, make someone valuable. They signal to us that the player is playing ‘well’, and once we’re hooked on them that reading is hard to shake. Experienced analysts like Steve Dangle will talk about this: after decades watching hockey, they still get caught up in all the great-looking things a player is doing and miss underlying weakness, or get stuck on what a player doesn’t do and miss what they contribute overall.

(This is why statistics are valuable and controversial: they can be used to reveal patterns, like how a player who scores plenty of pretty goals is also on the ice for a suspicious number of goals against, and sometimes that conflicts with what seems obvious to the eye-test.)

Ethnicity comes back into it because what we think looks valuable depends where we’re from.

Later, I’m laughing over it to my buddy. She’s an older fan than me, and I admire her so much, because she listens to me, and she says, “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you—I don’t know what you mean when you keep saying Russian hockey.”

Context: Soviet and Russian Hockey

Any moment that I have the puck and you do not seems like it should be good for me.

But if you’re allowed to just come up and smash me, and I just hang out holding it, you’re going to try to take it away. Some of the time you’ll manage and then you’ll have it and you can score goals with it. So maybe I want to risk trying to score goals with it before you do.

That’s good old North American.

Oh, I’m sorry, did you want this? Did you want to try to score some goals with it? Sure, I suppose you can borrow it for a bit.  

Catch me first.

That’s Soviet.

This is a difference of philosophy; it’s a preference in coaching and play-making. There are some kids who weren’t considered particularly naturally talented who would be in Russia, and the other way around. But people also train to meet those standards, so by the time you’re in your teens or early twenties, you’re caught somewhere between the abilities and inclinations you were born with and the values you shaped yourself to try to fulfill.

Imagine a benchful of Evgeny Kuznetsovs.

Soviet hockey players were skaters first. At age 4 or 5, they would be learning skating fundamentals for an hour two or three days a week. Then an hour and half. At 10, they would skate every day. At 12, two practices a day.

“We put kids on skates at a very young age. Much earlier than in the U.S. and Canada. There are advantages and disadvantages to this. On one hand early development may influence game thinking, on the other skating may become a burden and be detrimental for the health.”—Sergei Gimaev (USSR champion)

I’m quoting Sergei because that’s my stance: on the one hand, and on the other. There’s a lot to say about the Soviet hockey schools. Athleticism was patriotism in the Soviet Union, as it is in many states, and the treatment of athletes was frequently disturbing—but it’s always more complex than a dystopia.

Their eerily effortless technical skating contributed to the outside image of the “Red Machine”, a North American narrative than Soviet skaters were only trained to be interchangeable pieces without any fun or independence or Canadian grit, but the Soviet style also valued a child-like intellectual creativity.

“Kids were always allowed to improvise on the ice,” according to Dmitri Efimov. “We surprised our opponents with the fact that we were difficult to ‘read,’ our actions couldn’t be anticipated.”  

This play, from hockey-graphs.com, is a great example.Vladimir Krutov, Igor Larionov, and Sergei Makarov skate so tightly they seem about to combine into a single giant mecha, luring in the Canadians, and then fly past them.

All that skill and creative energy fed into the endless, eternal, interminable passing. Each player on the line swung around each other, dragging the opposition into position until one of them found a chance to shoot. The goal of Soviet hockey wasn’t to score goals: holding possession and winding the clock down was pretty much an end in and of itself.

“For me, I would love to have empty net at end of season, then (have someone else) score a goal you know? For me, that’s how my father teach me and how my whole coaches when I grown up teach me. You better to give your partner empty netter than you score it. It’s in my heart.”

So, Evgeny Evgenyevich…if you’re always giving the goal to your teammates, who’s taking the shots?

Ovechkin isn’t like that

Kristi St. Allain of St. Thomas University wrote a dissertation on why people say this. It was adapted and accepted for publication by the Sociology of Sport Journal in 2016, it’s 43 pages, and it’s worth a read.  

There’s a more technical take, which I think is also interesting: yes, he is like that.

Ovechkin is a monster. He’ll be once in the world, not once in a lifetime. Comparing any Russian player to him is pretty pointless, but comparing him to them is actually useful, because we can see that Ovechkin plays a specific role in Russian hockey.

Hockey was at its lowest low in Russia in the ‘90s, after the dissolution of the Soviet national team. Everyone had gotten used to Soviet hockey, and that was over. The new nation was wondering what the new Russian hockey was going to be, and it mostly seemed like it sucked.

And then they got...these two.

The Aleksandrs revolutionized Russian hockey by building a new role for themselves: the specialized sharpshooter.

I’m not saying there weren’t skilled shooters before them in the Soviet system, but those teams made plays in a more balanced way, effective divvying up shot attempts between three fairly equal forwards.

Two years older than Ovechkin, Semin was the first player to prove what that shot could do. In 2008 he led Russia to the first World Championship gold since 1993, against Canada in Quebec City, ending over a decade of low self-esteem in a moment of transcendently wicked awesomeness to a generation who grew up after but still very much under the weight of the Soviet Union.

Arguably, he’s the one who told us all what Russian hockey was going to be. 

Sasha and Sasha both stood out from their teammates for their spectacular aim and strength. Semin’s wrist-shot was described “arguably the most powerful in the game” during his years in the NHL. (And that’s from SB Nation, not just me and Kuznetsov.)

Instead of skating and passing until they happened to be in position for a particular shot, both Semin and Ovechkin would deliberately take up a shooting position, and their linemates  would pass between themselves, dragging the opposition around until they could send the puck to the Sasha for a shot.

Taking those shots isn’t selfish: it’s a new way of using their unique skill to play for their teammates. 

At this point in his career, we often get to see Ovi skate straight to his office and crouch there in active waiting. He’ll slide a little up and down in search of openings as the other team chase his center and right winger: “he’s the best in the world at adjusting to passes.”

Semin would circle. He hovered over the blue line like some large and carnivorous bird, allowing him to either swoop in for a shot, or swing and pass back and forth with his center to set up his opposite winger. He could essentially shoot like a second Ovechkin or partner with Nick Backstrom to hold possession.

We can succeed

There’s something heart-wrenching to me about that quote from Kuznetsov. Because many Russian players don’t succeed in the NHL; they don’t fit in the spaces allowed for them in the Canadian conception of hockey. That should hardly count as a failing: like Kuznetsov said, Canadians don’t know how to play Soviet or Russian hockey. And they aren’t asked to.

Do you know how many Russian players are in the NHL right now?

It’s 39.

(Less if we set aside the goalies, which arguably we should here).  That’s barely more than one per franchise, and that shakes out to mean something pretty profound for players who have it in their hearts to try to match what their teammates are doing, but who by their late teens and twenties simply can’t reshape the entire way they play the game.

Semin is a spectacular player in context. So is Ovechkin. For most of his career Ovi’s context was Semin, and Ovi is quite honest about that.

Semin was the best possession player on the Washington Capitals in 2012, while also seeing the highest percentage of scoring chances. He was a 40+ goal scorer while being someone else’s main man for assists. 

I’m going to come back and to talk through his actual story in order, but this is the first thing to keep in mind: 

All that circling didn’t look good. When he looked for passes, waited for scoring chances, played high-scoring but still play-making Russian hockey, he looked lazy.

[entomjinx]

Innocence and a Death Wish

Prompt:You can't die. Please don't die.

(Warning: The emotion train can't pick a track to stay on. Be cautious of possible derailment. Also, this has elements from another story I’m writing[actually, many of my one shots do, but whatever], so it’s a really weird AU)

This was it. This was the end of everything that had happened. He felt his magic build up along side Natsu's. He felt the fire and ice intertwine as it headed straight for the famed Black wizard. The powerful slaying magic spells ripped through him like a hot knife through butter, and every trace of his magic began to dissipate. They walked over to his fallen body as seals appeared across him. They dissolved themselves off of him, peaking the curiosity of the ice mage.

After searching his memories, he recognized several of the runes that made up the seals, and Zeref began to speak. It wasn't the deep voice full of hatred he'd heard all the other times, but instead, a calm, almost childish voice, "Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you thank you!" There were tears streaming down the dark mage's face, "I spent so long, so long, under Ankhseram's control. I don't want to hurt anyone anymore. " Several others had made their way over to listen, shocked at the revelation of Zeref's... innocence?

"You were... being controlled." Gray muttered. He couldn't believe it. The person he and most of the world had villainized their entire lives was the victim, not the enemy. Natsu grasped his arm, sensing Gray's discomfort immediately. The ice mage shot him a grateful glance.

"I'm not the only person Ankhseram wanted, though. That's why I built Eclipse." Zeref said quietly, "I sent them into the future to keep them safe, but it didn't work quite as well as I wanted it to. One of them was captured by another group of people, but now that I'm free it shouldn't be any trouble getting him out of there."

"The dragon slayers came from four hundred years ago." Gray realized. He turned to Natsu, but the pinkette looked just as shocked as he was.

"I had to seal away all of their memories as well," If it were possible, Zeref looked even more upset, "Hell, we were all so little. He tilted his head towards Wendy, and the people standing around her instinctively got closer, "You were just two." His turned his head back to the sky and glared at it, "Ankhseram is such a bitch."

By this point, the enormous hole in his chest had healed, and he sat up weakly. "If you want me to, I can re-purpose all of the Etherous I created to help us, or I can shut them down. Either is fine by me." Everyone continued to stare, shocked by the amount of humanity behind the darkest mage in history.

"I'm sorry." The words had come from Erza, and while they were sincere, there was also bubbling rage along side it, " But I cannot forgive someone who created something like the Tower or Heaven." She pointed one of her many swords directly at him, shooting it forward with her magic, but Zeref caught the blade between his palms like a child would a ball.

"I never used the Tower of Heaven," He said honestly. "I scrapped the idea as soon as I realized it would require more people to die. As a matter of fact, the instructions I left attached to it were incomplete in a way that would harm the person doing the spell and no one else." The sword stopped trying to move forward as his words began to reach the redhead. "Not to mention I was only five at the time, and I had a reason for want to build something with the ability to bring back the dead. If you want me to, I'll tell you the entire story, but I must warn you that it isn't very pleasant."

The entire area had gone quiet, and master Makarov decided it was time for him to take the initiative, " I believe we'd all benefit from hearing the truth." Zeref nodded, and they all gathered in what was left of the Fairy Tail guild hall.

"Four hundred and thirty some years ago," Zeref began quietly, "The dragons split into two factions. One of them hated humans with a passion, and he and his followers with to commit genocide on the entire race. The other group loved the humans and everything about them. They only wished great things upon us, and several devoted their lives to teaching the humans about all they could. In a clash between the two factions, a small village was destroyed. There were only three casualties. A couple who had stayed behind to wrap the wound of a fallen dragon made up two of them." He paused with a distant look on his face, waiting for the information to sink in before he continued, "There were three others who stayed behind with them. Those three were their children. The older two were four, almost five, and the youngest had just turned three. The youngest ran out in front of the blast, not realizing that it wouldn't be enough."

Most of the mages gasped, while others looked at him in horror. "The three of them died there, but the fallen dragon was able to save their bodies from being completely destroyed. He was a young dragon, barley ten years old, so I don't blame him for not being able to save my youngest brother. It wasn't his fault, even if I believed it was for a long time."

"For the next year, my twin and I came up with the idea of Heaven's Tower, but we scrapped it when we realized it wouldn't work. we struggled to come up with something that would give us back our precious brother, if not our parents along with him. About a month after that, we found a spell in our old family spell book. It was incomplete, and would most likely kill us, but we didn't realize that at the time. We agreed, or rather I told him, that I would be taking all of the rebound for the spell, and we went through with it."

"The spell caused Ankhseram himself to appear. When he looked into my eyes, I knew we had made a mistake. He asked if I was the one to summon him, and when I nodded, he appeared shocked. 'You're just a child.' he told me, 'What business could you have with the god of death?' At this point Larcade had slipped out of the room. I didn't want him to get caught up in any of it. It took a long time, but after a while, I managed to convince him to teach me how to bring back my little brother."

"With in the next few months, I had created eclipse, and I found all of the people Ankhseram had wanted me to, and I broke my promise. I sent them as far as my magic would allow me to, and I hid them from his view. After he realized I'd betrayed him, he took over my body and used me like a puppet to cause destruction. He didn't realize that five of the six people I sent, I had sent somewhere he wouldn't be able to reach anyways. After all, the dragons are very protective of those they consider their children."

A small smile had made it's way into the Black Wizard's face, "My twin is the one that's in captivity like three countries over. He's a bit of an idiot." A few laughs escaped the mages who were not as afraid of Zeref, "And the other five are all in this room."

While Erza still didn't trust him, most of her direct hatred had disappeared. There was a question she wanted to ask though, "If you got your youngest brother back, than didn't you send him into the future as well?"

Zeref nodded, "The older brother of the dragon my parents saved offered to take him in, which is where I got the idea to include the dragon anyways." Several of the mages glanced between the "Twin dragons" of Sabertooth, Kurogane Gajeel, and Fairy Tail's Salamander, choosing to linger on Gajeel most of all. When Zeref noticed, he burst out laughing, "I've called him 'precious' before, do you really think it's that asshole? No offence, Gajeel."

Gajeel looked slightly startled, but he replied anyways, "None taken."

Zeref pulled the locket off his neck and tossed it to Erza. "Open it." He tilted his head when he smiled, and suddenly the resemblance hit everyone in the room like a truck. When the locket popped open, Erza found herself to be correct. Inside was was a photo of two nearly identical people, one having white hair, the other black, and in between them was a small, smiling pinkette.

Most of the room whipped their head towards Natsu, who didn't look all that shocked. "You smell kind of like me, and I genuinely don't think anything can surprise me anymore. That and Igneel's the only one of our dragon parents that has siblings." He shrugged nonchalantly.

"You are still the most low-key sassy child." Zeref commented.

Natsu raised an eyebrow, "Would you rather I not attempt to hide my sass?" His hand flew to his hip, "Because if you actually want me to start, the first thing we're doing is getting rid of that outfit." He eyed it up and down, and the guild burst into laughter. "Also, not a child."

Gray was staring at Natsu with an emotion that Erza couldn't recognize, and he slipped out of the back.

Gray had gone to sit by the river. It was a calm day, surprisingly, so it was flowing gently. After a while, he heard someone come up behind him.

"Hey, snowflake." Natsu plopped beside him, gently brushing his arm against Gray's as a form of comfort. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this mess, but I barely knew anything. I wanted to be positive when I told you."

The ice mage leaned into him slightly. "It's okay, Natsu. I just wasn't expecting it."

A small bark of laughter left the pinkette's lips and he shook his head, "You think I really did? It's weird and unusual, and that sort of thing makes people uncomfortable. It's best to act like nothing's wrong or at least like it doesn't bother you." Their sides were pressed completely together now, and the river water was louder than their voices.

"You're too selfless sometimes," Gray commented.

"Better than being a block of ice without emotions," Natsu teased. He poked Gray in the side, provoking him into tackling the pinkette.

Everyone was asking Zeref questions about that past and what Ankhseram did to him, though mostly about the past. Baby Natsu, to be specific.

A figure that seemed to be made of the shadows rushed past everyone, running straight through the dark mage's chest. When he came out the other side, the was a rapidly growing hole through his body, and the being vanished, leaving only one sentence to echo through the guild hall, "You shouldn't have betrayed me, boy."

They'd only been sparring. That was it. They did it all the time, so why?

Gray could only gape at the sight in front of him. The pinkette he'd known for more of his life than he hadn't was dissolving in front of him. "He's dying." Natsu refused to look him in the eyes, and that's honestly what was hurting him the most. The ice mage shot forward to catch Natsu's body as he became too weak to stand. "His body is turning into magic?"

"Natsu?" Gray shook him gently, not understanding what was going on. He tried to lift him, but his arms were beginning to pass right through the dragon slayer. "You can't die. Please don't die." Natsu attempted to grab onto Gray, but his hands slipped right through the fabric. Natsu's scarf fell through his body and into Gray's lap, and they both stared at it. "No. No no no no no. You can't. You can't leave me."

The sound of footsteps approached from behind him, but he didn't bother to turn around."Gray, move out of the way." It was Zeref, and when Gray finally did look at him, he had a hole through his chest. "Move!" Gray didn't.

The black wizard huffed. He pulled out a book with the word "END" on it, and he created a knife out of what looked like light. Thousands of strings appeared that were attached to both the book at Natsu. Zeref didn't hesitate. He swung the knife as hard as he could, cutting the strings clear through. He then grabbed a hold of them desperately. He sank to his knees and coughed up a bit of blood. He held them out to Gray, "Listen and listen carefully," He coughed up another mouthful of blood, "You care about him yeah?"Gray nodded, "Good. Ankhseram came for me, and to bring him back, I basically had to turn him into an Etherious. They aren created the way you think they are. They're only bound to their creator if they aren't bound to someone else."

"They're only bound to their creator if they aren't bound to someone else?" It took a moment, but Gray figured out what he was saying. "I'll do it."

Zeref placed the strings in Gray's hands, and they wrapped around his arms, then the rest of him before disappearing. All at once Natsu seemed to solidify, and Gray grabbed onto him. The pinkette sucked in a shaky breath and came out of his own mind. He held onto Gray and stared at his brother. Zeref leaned forward and buried one of his hands in his brother's hair. "I know what you're thinking. Wendy couldn't heal this. It'd hurt her."

"She could try."He protested.

"He's right," Gray agreed.

"Damn straight he's right!" Wendy came barreling through the trees with several others close behind. She knelt down beside the dark mage and began to use her healing magic, which was working surprisingly well.

"Oh." Zeref muttered once he realized he was wrong. He said something in what must have been his original language and let Wendy continue to heal him.

Natsu snorted. "That I can agree with." Gray poked him in the side, nearly making the pinkette jump out of his arms. "What?"

"Want to tell the rest of us what just happened?"

"Zeref said, 'Maybe I'm just super paranoid, or I still subconsciously have a death wish,' which is why I responded that I could agree with it."

Gray balked at him. "I'm assuming he gave you all you memories back?" Natsu nodded, "Good, I can actually ask you this. Have you always been assholes too each other?"

The siblings had an entire conversation with nothing but their eyes, then answered in perfect unison, "You should see it when all three of us are in one place."

A thought seemed to occur to everyone all at once.

"What are we going to do with three Natsus?"

[bsidethetrees]

Mirajane Overview

Mirajane is probably my favorite Fairy Tail character and definitely my favorite out of the group. Because of that, she’s probably been written the most in my stories and, overtime, has reaped the affects of this. Whenever I broach new fandoms, the characters I write are normally pretty close to their centers, but drift overtime. While I don’t think that Mira’s too different in my stories, I have added more little touches to her characteristics than the others.

My first Fairy Tail fic was about Mirajane and her relationship with Laxus. Early on, I liked to play up to the idea that Laxus, though resistant to her originally, was slowly broken down by Mirajane, bit by bit. Mira was light and aloof and still possessed that quick to cry trigger that she’s portrayed as having in the source. These things remain as time goes on, but I slowly started to get the feeling that there’s more to Mirajane and therefore there’s more to these reactions and characteristics. She might be emotional and a bit of a crybaby, but anyone who knows Mirajane knows that there’s more to her and, by proxy, how she behaves.  

The most recent example of this was All Fall Down where it’s mentioned early on that Mirajane’s not just a dimwitted airhead...until Freed presses her on a few things and then muses that perhaps he’s wrong and she actually is dimwitted and an airhead. This sorta observation is made in reference to Mirajane a lot in my stories and more a showing of just how committed and convincing she is to the role. I’ve written her so many times, but cannot think of a single time that she was truly called out on this ‘act’, but can think of a few different instances in which Mirajane, to herself, felt as if she’d fooled everyone with this veneer. It’s never expressed properly, probably, but for me, the reason behind this is simply the enjoyment Mirajane gets out of being someone new.

Her entire magic is based off this, honestly. When she was a child, she had to play the role of mother early to her siblings and, later, a dark soul that wanted to be left alone. But I don’t think Mirajane ever really wanted that, as much as she convinced herself she did. Then, once Lisanna passed, she saw what it was to truly be alone. And partially, I’ve hinted over time that the biggest act Mira plays is her happiness. Even once Lisanna’s returned. Mira in my stories often feels a bit underappreciated and distant at times. To me, there was always something hollow to the change that Mirajane experienced after Lisanna’s death. It wasn’t so much to me that she couldn’t have found a way to be happy in the sadness, but rather that she had a kind of fake it till you make it attitude and it just took.

This isn’t to say that she’s never happy in my stories. Because she definitely is, in certain places. I think the happiest she is during most of the stories is at the start of her relationship with Laxus. It’s not necessarily him that makes her happy, either, but rather the flow things take when this happens. Usually, within a few years of them dating, the others will have all gotten together and they have this family unit that Mira’s always wanted. To me, out of all the others, Mirajane almost needs others around to care for and, being in an even closer knit group than the already pretty tight ‘inner circle’ within Fairy Tail gives her plenty of options to do this. As time goes on though, of all the people who get miserable with their lives, I typically paint Mirajane as the most.

I’m not really sure where this comes from, as it’s pretty obvious I’m a fan of Miraxus. But as they age, I think it’s pretty obvious that I have their relationship sour a bit. This was most noticeable in the Remember Me series, but that relied more on my old portrayal of Laxus, which was as a much meaner, distant type of husband. But even in my story where Laxus is probably the best all around person, Last Month, they still suffer in the end, this time mostly from Laxus filtering all his attention into their child and very little into his marriage. I think Parenthood has the most central characterization of all and, in it, Mira’s probably happier. Laxus is the right amount of distant and Mira’s the right amount too busy with other things to notice. Still, they kind of drift slowly, but honestly, I don’t think this is a flaw, but rather how things go. It might just be my personal interpretation of relationships having a hand in this, but there’s just something more real and honest when dealing with such things. I can’t think of a single person that’s particularly happy at any singular point in their lives, in my stories, but I think that’s less because it’s impossible, but rather we view the stories through the eyes of all the characters, as I tend to use omniscient story-telling and, in your head, there’s usually a lot bubbling under the surface. You can be happy over something and still dread another thing. It’s practically a standard.

Mirajane’s typically upfront with Laxus in these moments, but it’s rarely needing stating to him. He’s usually aware of their divide and even, at times, ponders it for himself. Neither really ever take steps to fix it, however, save rare moments and I think, on Mirajane’s part, this has a lot to do with how I have her describe marriage. She loves the idea of marriage and frequently pressures Laxus into this (probably more often than not), but is usually reserved once in the marriage. In the backstory that I designed for her and her siblings, marriage was a very important factor to their early childhood. She saw her parents as a unit and reminisces on it sometimes, to Laxus, about how they were able to forge a life for themselves. She gets upset, even, in one one-shot, when he implies that, given their rather poor backgrounds, that her parents never truly wed and rather just become something like common law. This would ruin the entire identity that Mira has build up around her dead parents.

This also hearkens back to another thing that is sparingly mentioned attribute I give her which is Mirajane’s religious side. It’s annoying, at times, to her siblings and constantly to Laxus’ whenever it is mentioned, but overall, it’s treated as a rather minor detail. It only has one major one-shot and I don’t think it’s necessarily significant to the way I write Mirajane, but it is something that I mostly silently recall me as giving her. Her obsession with being sure she and Laxus, eventually, do marry would align with this well.

Mirajane, like most of my renditions, has a bit of a darker feel to her overall though. In some stories it’s more obvious than others, but throughout, she kind of gets more tired of things as the years go on. She loves the guild too much to leave it and the bar too much to ever become a full time mage again and also finds the actions repetitive eventually. She works herself to death though, to the complaints of Makarov when he’s serving as guild master, and Laxus later, when I go that route. It’s almost a sense of obsession, I think, where she’s not sure what to do with herself when she’s away from it. A bad relationship, maybe, is also accurate. Mira’s unhappy with where she is, but fears if she takes a step in a direction away from it, everything will blow up. In most stories, even, she fears for what will happen to Makarov if she slacks in any way.

Their relationship in Fairy Tail as a whole isn’t nearly as exaggerated as I make it out to be. I think it’s clear that Makarov respects Mirajane and, while he does act like an old perv to her at times, also frets over her a bit, maybe. Rather than just leave it at this though, I add a bit of an extra layer there. In New Position, I focus the idea of Mirajane’s reformation and returning to the guildhall following her sister’s passing on Makarov’s interference. When she shows up to leave the guild, he thwarts this and instead has her stay on as barmaid, which is a definite backstory for all my incarnations of Mirajane. From there, she and the Master’s relationship only blossoms. She loves him in the same way the others all do, but has to also see him as not only saving her life as a young teenager, but also following her sister’s death. It’s because of him that she sticks around which, later, leads to her finding her sister once more.

This alone would be a big relationship cementer, I think, but it goes a step further as time progresses. When my stories pick up, Makarov is typically become a bit more feeble and, thus, needed to rely on someone to help him out around the guildhall more. This falls on the shoulders of Mirajane mostly because she is, no doubt, the one around most often. She cares for him more in his time of need than the others. This, again, is probably due to her availability, but that doesn’t change the sentiment any. I like the idea of Mirajane being so reverent of Makarov towards the end and it shows through frequently. All the former kids of Fairy Tail see him as a grandfather figure, but with all he helped Mirajane through,. I think this is even more true for her.

Another relationship that I’ve changed the dynamic of a bit is the one that she has with her sister. Lisanna and Mirajane, following Edolas, are shown as mostly getting along in that way background characters do. There’s no real reason for them ever to not. There’s not a specific filler relating to just Mira and Lisanna so we really only see their relationship through the eyes of others.

But, I mean, they’ve already got some weird stuff going on, the Strauss siblings in general. The girls typically just boss Elfman around and allow him to go about his life, but the two of them are tangled into one another fiercely. Mirajane already had a motherly vibe towards her siblings before everything got all fucked up with Lisanna’s ‘death’ and this is the source of a lot of their problems in my stories. Lisanna wants more freedom than Mirajane is willing to give her. She acknowledges that Lisanna is grown and an adult and should be able to live her own life, but often struggles with implementing this.

Not that Lisanna helps in this. At all. Rather than flat out telling her sister to butt out, Lisanna finds life kind of nice in the Strauss household. She works some, up at the bar with her sister, and takes jobs some, with her brother, but mostly just hangs around. There’s almost a lack of urgency to Lisanna’s work ethic as she finds focus in other pressing matters; like goofing off with Natsu and Happy or, when this is relevant, Bickslow. That leaves her in the weird place of not necessarily being under Mirajane’s dominion, but also establishing no clear path in life for herself. Though Mira rejects this lifestyle and typically tries to intervene in it, she’s never quite sure how to. This isn’t helped by Laxus, who seems to fund all of Lisanna’s outlandish lifestyles when her sister refuses.

Mostly, Lisanna and Mirajane appear at a standstill in my stories. They rarely address their conflicts, save a major one like Wedding Wars, where Lisanna is purposely attempting to rile her sister up. Even that, however, does little to alleviate any of their long standing problems, but rather just bandages over the immediate. Mira will never be able to really stay out of Lisanna’s life and Lisanna will never dislike it enough to do anything about it. It’s more just bickering between the two of them than any ill-will. It’s the kind of sister relationship that has to come from these sort of things, I think. The more time spent with another person, the more chances for these sorts of things to arise.

Her and Elfman are the opposite though. Mirajane lets Elfman live his life for the most part and when they’re usually directly interacting in my stories, it’s typically lighthearted. This could be attributed to a lot of different things, honestly. For one, I don’t care for Elfman much and, therefore, don’t want to write him too often. Another part of it is though that Elfman’s journey is kind of complete, you know? He’s got a plan in life and is on his way to doing it. All he wants is to successfully be a mage and it’s happening. Lisanna’s a bit more lost in her approach though and therefore requires more attention. Elfman’s big turmoil is vanquished when Lisanna returns and, even before that, Mirajane helps him see through his demons. Lisanna’s are more complex, in some ways, as they have less to do with a singular, terrible actions, but rather are unresolved personal flaws and traits that plague her. Elfman doesn’t have any real conflict canonically after resolving his issue with Lisanna’s death other than his struggles to get stronger and interactions with Evergreen.

I don’t even think that that’s really a point of contention for Mirajane either. In the show, she muses about her brother and Evergreen, but no one ever seems to give it much real thought. This is mostly true in my fics as well. Evergreen and Elfman are probably the most consistent relationship overall, but short of Bickslow’s teasing, they hardly ever get any acknowledgment. Mirajane usually sees herself focused on more important (or at least perceived importance) and other than the few times that Elfman goes to her for advice (or to bitch about Evergreen), she doesn’t refer to either of them in any way at all.

Her lack of approval or disapproval, however, probably also plays into the subdued nature of her relationship with Evergreen. As far as the source goes, they have none, but in my fics, it’s normally a bit contentious. Evergreen is jealous of Mirajane and doesn’t attempt to hide it too well. Whether it’s from Mirajane’s status with Laxus, her close relationship with her brother, or even just the fact that Evergreen seems to be the jealous type in general, she detests the other woman. Mira, however, in return is quite the opposite. A lot of times it comes off as if she’s oblivious towards Evergreen’s aggression, but there’s rare moments where she lets on that this isn’t at all true with either a snide remark towards the woman or and rebuttal to Ever’s rude comments. Mira rarely shows any sort of ill-will towards another (save Laxus at times and Lisanna at others), but she’s definitely not passive and, when pushed, lets this loose.

The Thunder Legion member that she probably should have the most contention with is Bickslow. He’s, arguably, part of the reason Lisanna falls off the wagon so often. He mostly exists and offers up nothing much when he isn’t out on a job and, the more time that Lisanna and Bickslow spend together, the less frequent this is. However, whether or not Mirajane attributes him as a bad influence is never really definitive one way or another. Mostly, Mira finds Bickslow a bit worrisome, at first, but overtime finds him to be goofy and harmless. She doesn’t necessarily support the relationship constantly, but as with Elfman, does little to intervene on it (most of the time).

In Hard to Do, Bickslow questions Mirajane’s friendship and calls the idea of it a facade. Mira takes a bit of offense to this and rebukes his claims that, should he and Lisanna fall out, that she wouldn’t care about him at all. Mira, above all the others, takes the family that she feels they’ve formed, even in short periods of time, are strong enough to stand alone. She honestly takes the Thunder Strauss Tribe to heart, unlike the others who seem to realize it, inevitably, has a time limit.

This is most true with Freed. I think, canon wise, they have the mostly likely friendship of all the minor characters we don’t know much about. Mira and Freed share far too many commonalities to not, at least, be friendly with one another. We’re not entirely certain of Freed’s past, but knowing how the others all wound up at Fairy Tail and his lack of mentioning family, save the Thunder God Tribe, would leave one inclined to think that it wasn’t a pleasant upbringing. I’m sure, in a lot of ways, it mirrors Mirajane and her siblings. Some sort of tragedy at home led to him fleeing at a young age and then finding his way to Fairy Tail (I imagine through the help of Laxus, but that’s just my opinion). This added in with the way that both he and Mirajane had to overcome their own inner demons, figuratively and literally, in order to truly come to love Fairy Tail is quite powerful. The fact that Mira’s own experience in the ordeal helped Freed turn over a new leaf is hardly anything to bat at either.

From there, writing their relationship towards one another isn’t too difficult. Freed is usually apprehensive whenever he’s first acquainted to the idea of Laxus and Mirajane dating (but I imagine him to be apprehensive and skeptical about most things, until he gets his bearings about them), but is rarely that way for long. Mira usually is the one to seek out friendship with them and, from there, it kind of naturally develops.

Of all the non romantic relationships that form in the little group, I think Lisanna and Laxus’ is my favorite, but I really like the dynamic that Freed and Mirajane have. At times their friendship seems staked purely in their equal love and respect for Laxus’ and, perhaps, Freed merely goes along with her perceived view of friendship with him because of his veneration of the man, but I don’t think this is the case. Or if it was, it wouldn’t be for long. Freed is kind of bemused by Marianne, in most situations, and a more reserved person typically needs an energetic, outgoing person to pal around with. Bickslow fills this need most of the time, but there’s other times when Mira would be more suitable.

The biggest relationship Mirajane has throughout my stories though, of course, is the one she has with Laxus. I think, over time, it’s differed in someways, how I write them and feel out how things would be. Originally, I wrote Mirajane as a bit aloof to Laxus and his own desires. This was when I wrote her as aloof in general though and gave hardly any backing to her. As time went on though and I expanded my version and view of Mirajane, their relationship changed a bit. Mira’s less of a somewhat cute, somewhat bossy girlfriend of Laxus, but rather someone who can, and at times does, exist without him. Their relationship is less Mira conning Laxus through the steps of being in one and more them equally deciding things along the way.

Laxus is still an ass, but he’s rounded out a bit and less on edge. Mira’s still zany and, at times, overbearing towards Laxus, but she also respects that he’s his own person in some ways that she didn’t before. I had her invade his privacy a lot in the beginning and, though Mira still is a bit of a snoop and gossip, she’s not prying directly in his face constantly for information. They’re less on edge with one another and not so prone to snapping.

He also treats her better, too, in a lot of ways now. I think this is more due to my changing stance on how I write Laxus. I still stand by the closer to his original personality in the manga still being present and only bubbling under the surface, but he’s also more relaxed in ways too.

One of my more favorite concepts is when the two of them aren’t together. I’ve written it more than once, but the best showing of this was no doubt Timing. Mira and Laxus come to some realizations in that fic that, while they want to be together, they don’t have to be together. And that some time away from one another was the best thing for their relationship. This shows Mira’s desire for more, job and life wise, as well too.

Mirajane sees Laxus as, of course, one of the stronger mages in the guild which she finds attractive (on top of him just in general being so), but there’s also something cute in his personality to her. She finds his anger laughable, at times, but also develops systems for him to control it. She finds his relationship with his grandfather to be sad and, many times, urges him to strengthen it, going as far as having the man move in with them in both the Parenthood series and the story Closure. Mira, having lost her own parents, understands Laxus’ problems in some ways on that front, but frequently bends towards him having it far worse than her. She sees the happy few years she had with her parents as superior to Laxus’ slow realization that his father never loved him and, at certain points, his mother didn’t either. She helps him cut down on his drinking and forces him to be more openly loving towards his friends. In Parenthood, Mira forces Laxus to take responsibility with his child (not hers, for those who haven’t read it) as well as in A Dragon’s Love (that one is theirs, together).

Mostly Mira tries to improve Laxus’ life in both little and big ways. She’s not trying to change him, necessarily, but make him realize that he could be living a much better life than he does. I think this is an important characteristic that Mira has in general towards those she views as friends and would no doubt take into a serious relationship.

Outside of that though, I like to think that Mira and Laxus are friends in general. Canonically they are, at the very least, that. A lot of my stories with them revolves around their faults or any drama they have, but in group centric stories, their less tense moments are shown. Laxus waits impatiently for Mira to arrive, always, and she enjoys his company above the others in the room. They can hang out and joke with one another and, at times, Laxus is shown to sit up around the bar watching her close the place up, just to be around the woman. Even when they start off a bit rocky, like in In with the New,  we see them interact in both elements. They butt heads, but find something in one another that they can’t get passed. During a prequel of sorts, Trials and Posers, I have Laxus muse (fume?) about how Mira once had a chance of joining the Thunder Legion and the sort of friendship they made before that went south, as I imagine most of teenage Laxus’ attempts at friendships went. Mira’s as well.

I don’t really think that my Mirajane’s too different at all from what we see in Fairy Tail. I think that, overall, she’s still the giddy, go-lucky barmaid that is ready to help her friends, but I add a second substance to her that isn’t in contention with this version of her, but rather hovers over the surface. In Rips and Tears, Mira reveals most all of her vulnerabilities to Laxus and these are all included. Upon losing Lisanna, Mirajane had to reinvent herself. There was nothing else she could do. In Fairy Tail, whenever this transition is made with any evolving character, we’re kind of just told, hey, they’re different now, and that’s all there is to it. I don’t like this assessment though. Mirajane wouldn’t suddenly stop feeling so poorly about life and sour over things, but rather just learned to hide it better. Fake it till you make it. When she’s alone though, she doesn’t have to play up this assumed persona. Maybe she really is happier and more upbeat and has a better outlook on life. Certainly after the re-entrance of Lisanna to it. But the idea that this is all she is can’t be true. People are deeper than that. Mira certainly is. I try to make this show through, but probably fail a bit in some ways, as it’s not very easy to parallel in each and every one-shot.

Now this is way too long and out of hand, so I guess that’s all, really. Of all the characters I could talk about forever, Mira’s probably one of them. I probably didn’t cover everything, but I covered enough, surely. Bickslow next, anyways, but maybe another fic between now and then? I dunno, but maybe. I’ve been working on some shit, at least.

[impracticaldemon]

Nalu Fluff Week 2017: Within the Law, Chapter 1

fanfiction by impracticaldemon Words: ~2500 | Also available on FFnet and AO3

Author's Note:

Once again, I'm too behind on writing to be able to complete all the prompts for this ship week, but I did want to contribute at least a little!

The main prompt for this story is "Rain" (Day 2). I am also throwing in "Vacation" converted to "Work" (Day 3), and a smidgen of "Fashion" (Day 4). I haven't yet decided what else I may do for this ship week but you can probably look for a couple more pieces. Please remember: "a fanfiction author is never late, nor is she early, she publishes precisely when she means to." Thank you, Gandalf (and Tolkien, I suppose).

I hope that you enjoy the following shenanigans!

Chapter 1 ~ Sunshine in the Rain

Law school was tough—it turned out that Professor Porlyusica's class on Trusts was just as bad as they'd told her—but this was infinitely worse. Here she was in downtown Magnolia, wearing her best—and currently only—suit, a tailored white blouse, sheer nylons and conservative dark heels. And she was lost. Not very lost, just momentarily stymied. Any one of the three mega-towers in with entrances onto the plaza looked like it could house the prestigious Makarov & Vermilion law firm that had granted her this precious and not-to-be-missed interview for a summer student's position.

Unfortunately, a small contretemps at a subway turnstile involving a little white dog, an oddly bluish-grey cat with a green bandanna for a collar, and a guy rocking a great suit and neon pink hair, had caused Lucy to drop the paper with the firm's street address. The guy had been apologetic, sort of—he'd viewed the whole thing as more funny than serious. Then he'd told the animals to meet him at the 'usual place' and off they'd trotted without further fuss. It had been a little weird. The man looked like he worked at some high-powered job—Lucy had assumed that the animals weren't his.

"Don't worry," pink-hair-great-suit had told her, "you didn't hurt Happy or Plue."

That hadn't been Lucy biggest concern, but she'd murmured something appropriate and gotten a wide grin in return. She'd even returned the guy's wave as he rushed off—though whether to his job or to rendez-vous with his pets was unclear. He wasn't to be seen getting on the subway, in any event.

"There's a map in the lobby if you need one," said a voice behind her just then, making her jump.

"Um, yes, thank you. I guess I'll just go take a look." In fact, Lucy was having a tough time convincing herself to go into any of the buildings. Unfortunately, the person behind her probably worked in one of the towers and would find it really strange if she just went on standing rooted to the pavement.

"Oh hey! I just realized it's you! Sorry again about earlier…"

Great. It was the pink-haired guy who'd seen her almost fall on her butt in the subway station. He had a nice voice, Lucy thought—not too light, but bright and cheerful without being sharp or nasal. A half-turn confirmed her first impression of the suit. It fit him too well not to have been either custom-made or at least tailored by somebody who knew exactly how to accommodate square shoulders, a trim waist and lean, narrow hips. Okay, just stop that right now.

Lucy shook her head at herself; it was really rare for her to notice somebody's looks that much before getting to know them. Mostly because she made a point of not noticing—man, woman, whatever… nobody and nothing was going to get in the way of proving to her dad that she didn't need his money, his connections, or him in order to be successful at what she wanted out of life. His comment had been dismissive, as usual: "Lucy, I've got no problem with paying for law school, but remember that Heartfilias hire lawyers—we don't become lawyers."

He didn't understand that once she'd learned all the tricks of the trade from the pros, she was going to turn around and use them working for the people who really needed lawyers—small businesses, new entrepreneurs, creative people with a dream… Her family's company swallowed them up and spat them out because they couldn't afford a professional who could read the footnotes to the fine print.

There was a polite cough, and the man beside her surprised Lucy by saying, "You're looking for Fairy Tail, right?"

"What—well… yes, actually. And you are?" Lucy waited politely for the stranger to respond. She was suddenly on high alert. Only lawyers called M&V 'Fairy Tail'. (Of course, they were probably the only ones who cared, but still… it was just one of those things that you learned: the names of the judges of the Supreme Court, the fact that most modern consumer protection law could be traced back to tainted ginger beer, and the real name of M&V.)

"Me? Oh right—I was in a rush before—Natsu Dragneel." He held out a strong, blunt-fingered hand and smiled encouragingly.

That's one hell of a smile, thought Lucy, trying not to stare. It really stood out in his tanned, olive-toned face. Fortunately, she was in interview mode and she automatically shook his hand—warm, but pleasantly dry—and responded: "Lucy Heartfilia. And my interview's in ten minutes, so…"

"Oh that's right!" Natsu forgot to let go of her hand, and Lucy eyed him with a sinking suspicion that she wasn't going to like what she heard next. "You're the one all the fuss is about." He held up the bag he had in one hand. "Special treats for the meeting—um, interview. They're pretty excited about having you join the firm."

"Because of the connection to Heartfilia Enterprises?" asked Lucy bluntly.

"Well, yeah… sort of?" Natsu looked puzzled, and then realized that he was still holding Lucy's hand. He returned it to her with a final squeeze and without any noticeable embarrassment.

Lucy tried to swallow her disappointment. They were giving her this interview because of her family connections, not because of all her hard work over the last year and a half. As if in response to her suddenly dark mood, the early spring sunshine was blotted out by a large, heavy-looking cloud. It reminded Lucy of a star destroyer from Star Wars—and every bit as ominous as one of those gigantic, triangular ships had ever looked to a fleeing Rebel cruiser. A drop hit the tip of Lucy's nose and a change in the breeze brought the smell of incipient rain. Petrichor, thought Lucy. The smell of rain—though really it's the smell of plants getting ready for rain.

"I really should get going—" Lucy tried again.

"You know, that cloud looks exactly like a Star Wars battle ship—a star destroyer." Natsu was now staring up at the cloud above them. Then he looked down at Lucy and blinked. "Uh, sorry… old sci-fi stuff is a big hobby for me."

"Yeah?" Lucy perked up a little. She was trying not to think about the umbrella she'd left at home because it had been so sunny earlier. Another drop hit her and she noticed that the plaza was emptying fast.

"Oh, sure! How about you?"

Lucy didn't know quite what to say. Natsu—because 'Mr. Dragneel' didn't suit him in the slightest—seemed perfectly prepared to stand there and chat, while the heavens were clearly getting ready for the opening act of what now looked like a major storm. She shouldn't have skipped the weather report this morning.

"Well, actually, um, Natsu—I mean, yes I like some of the old TV shows and movies too, but—"

Lucy was forcibly interrupted by a combination of drenching rain and Natsu grabbing her hand and dragging her off at a sprint, oblivious to her heels and demure-but-narrow business skirt. Apparently she should have acted on her instincts sooner and gotten under shelter right away. She would have had to forcibly ditch her new acquaintance, however.

Moments later, they stood panting in the lobby of the smallest of the office towers—or rather, Lucy stood panting while her companion went back to the door to look anxiously out at the rain.

"You know," he said over his shoulder to Lucy, "you really should've come in out of the rain before it started. Couldn't you smell it?"

Lucy finally snapped. To heck with trying to be polite!

"Yes, I could smell it, Mr. Dragneel, but every time I tried to get you to move, you just, just ignored me!"

There was a pause while Natsu processed Lucy's irritation. Then—why was she not surprised?—he grinned, and used his hands to comb some of the water out of his cotton candy hair. The result was a spiky, yet ridiculously perfect mess.

"Yeah, I guess I might have—I was keeping an eye out for Happy and Plue. Sorry about that. No harm done though, right? I mean, at least you're in the right building now, and it's just rain." He caught Lucy's expression and laughed sheepishly. "Well, yeah, okay a lot of rain. Heavy rain, you might say. But you look fine, really."

Lucy decided that they had bonded enough over the star destroyer cloud for her to get out her compact and do a quick check of her face and hair in front of him—something that normally she would never do. Thankfully, she did look okay, courtesy of a well-pinned bun and minimal, but expensive, cosmetics. On the other hand... She barely repressed a yelp at the jagged tear in her stocking. She restrained herself from shaking Natsu for having dragged her along at such a pace, and tried to make him pay attention to her anxiety over the time.

"Mr. Dragneel—Natsu. I would like to be on time for my appointment. I have three minutes to get there. Your pets appear to be quite good at looking after themselves. I expect that they are waiting out the rain under cover somewhere. Please tell me where to go."

With an abrupt change of demeanor, Natsu gave her a quick nod.

"You're right, my bad. It's just that I'm watching Plue for a friend, and I kind of had to sneak away from work to let him out for a bit and, well—come with me."

With impeccable manners, he swept her towards a bank of lifts, waving at a sleepy-looking security guard whom Lucy hadn't even noticed. Lucy thought she saw a look of apprehension flit across Natsu's face as the lift doors closed behind them and he selected one of the upper floors. What was that about?

When they stepped out at the thirty-second floor, scant seconds later, Natsu turned and leaned heavily against the marble-faced wall. Despite now being extremely worried about the time—even to the exclusion of fretting over her torn stocking—Lucy paused to see if she could help. The rain was now pounding against the windows, all but drowning out the inevitable soft music of the floor's tastefully neutral lobby area.

"Um, Natsu?" Only years of controlling her anxiety around her father allowed Lucy to ignore her damp, less-than-pristine appearance, the fact that she was late for an interview for her dream job, and the way that the storm outside was competing with Elton John for her attention. (Why Elton John? And why the Musack version? Did it really need to be even slower and sappier than it already was? Plus, the song was older than she was and she probably knew it better than Elton at this point, courtesy of a thousand upscale office tower lobbies just like this one.)

"… Sorry…" Natsu looked positively ill. He waved a hand at her feebly. "… 'S'why I usually take the stairs."

"To the thirty-second floor?!" asked Lucy, appalled. Then again, he did seem to be in very good shape. Maybe this was why.

"Oh, don't worry about Natsu, Ms. Heartfilia," said a distinctly amused male voice from behind her. "He's terrible with elevators. And cars. And boats, trains, trams, pony-wagons, children's pedal toys—"

"Shut up, Gray," growled Natsu. His voice was still distinctly rough around the edges.

The man who had come into the lobby looked to be about Natsu's age—maybe a year or two older than Lucy. She was surprised that he wasn't wearing his suit jacket, since most city lawyers she'd met over the years wouldn't leave their office without one. Still, the icy blue tones of his slim-fit shirt worked just fine with his dark hair and eyes. Again with the personal appearances, she sighed. What is with me today?

"Are you really going to be alright, Natsu?" For some reason, Lucy found that she already missed the pink-haired guy's slightly overwhelming smile.

"Yeah," said Natsu. This time he managed a slightly happier expression.

"Yeah, he's okay, I promise," said his colleague, at almost exactly the same time. He still looked like he was laughing at Natsu, but his tone indicated that he had answered seriously. "I'm Gray, by the way—Gray Fullbuster. It's nice to meet you, Ms. Heartfilia."

They shook hands, and Lucy found Gray's grip to be firm and dry like Natsu's—but cool instead of warm. It was an odd sensation, in fact.

"Lucy's fine, Mr. Fullbuster."

"Sure—just call me Gray, then. I hope Natsu met you like he was supposed to? We tend to find people standing outside in the plaza looking confused… Anyway, Natsu volunteered to leave early to find you, so you could get inside before the rain hit." Gray quirked an eyebrow, somehow sensing that something was up. "Was there a problem?"

Lucy froze. He was supposed to meet me and bring me straight here? Her mind quickly ran through images of the collision with Plue and Happy at the turnstile, followed by Natsu running off to somewhere while she boarded the subway, followed by Natsu looking for his pets while the clouds rolled in… and then dragging her willy-nilly into the building after the downpour started. She glanced out the window at the wind-lashed rain and then momentarily at Natsu, who was now leaning more casually against the wall, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and an irrepressible smile at the corners of his lips.

"Actually, everything was just fine," said Lucy, lying through her teeth for no discernible reason.

Natsu looked surprised and then grinned. Lucy blinked. How did he do that? For just a moment, it was as if the rain had stopped and the sun had come out. I'm living a cliché, she thought, rolling her eyes at her own sentimentality. She decided to make a start on appearing professional.

"I'm ready whenever you are," she told Gray. She'd just have to ignore the stocking.

"I'm good to go, too," added Natsu.

Lucy looked between them in surprise. She hadn't expected a job interview to include more than one junior associate, and Natsu and Gray just couldn't be that long out of law school. Gray's lips quirked.

"We've been working here for years, Lucy—only our degrees are kind of new. I'm the head of our forensic law and tax services, and your cover letter mentioned you had some interest in learning current methods for tracking multi-layered companies and complex transactions." Gray paused, then shook his head. "And Pinky over there"—he ignored an obviously automatic "hey" from Natsu—"believe it or not, is the head of our corporate and securities law group. Basically, if you're serious about the kind of law you have in mind, you'll be working with us—mostly Natsu."

Natsu finally pried himself off the wall. With a total disregard for personal boundaries, he walked over and gave Lucy a short, one-armed hug.

"It'll be great!" he assured her, beaming.

Lucy just nodded. But when she sat down for her actual interview, which was conducted by the famous Makarov Dreyar himself and his equally well-known protégée, Erza Scarlet, her heart wasn't hammering against her ribs the way it usually did during important interviews. Even her stomach butterflies had faded substantially. Strangest of all, the storm had abruptly blown itself out, and the sun was shining. All she needed was twittering bluebirds to complete the scene.

Oh well, Lucy thought, resigned. At least it's a good cliché.

[END]

A/Note: Thanks for reading! All comments and reviews are much appreciated, as are likes, kudos, reblogs and whatever other fine method of communication is provided by your platform of choice.

Tags: @shell-senji @nalufever @eliz1369 @unashamed-shipper @naluloverforever @ftfanfics @fic-writer-appreciation @canadiangaap @very-x-vice @celestialgeekmage @miss-zei @sanguine-fairy @kazama-hime @sabinasanfanfic  @hakusaitosan @moon-faced-pear-shaped @devlin7

[the-archangel-of-salt]

The Final Review of Fairy Tail - NaCl Robot brings out the Reciepts

Yeah sorry for the delay...life happened

This was it. This was the final chapter of Fairy Tail..ever. I honestly cannot help but feel absolutely nothing.

The chapter began quite nicely - Lucy FINALLY finished writing her book and actually earned an award for it. APPLAUSE LUCY!

AND of course we cut to the scene that basically SUMS UP EXACTLY WHAT IS WRONG WITH FAIRY TAIL AS A WHOLE. In the rowdy guild, do you see any differences to let’s say...the first introduction of the guild? Ships...yeah I guess. New characters previously not present in chapter two; yup. Makarov in a chair; yup. Anything else? No? The problem is that there is hardly any difference except for some minor changes between chapter 545 and chapter 2. It is the same rowdy guild as we remember. And from my point of view, considering the events that supposedly occured since these two chapters, the growth and maturity which the guild as a whole should of experienced is not present. Natsu, our main lead could easily be switched with natsu from chapter two and we will struggle to find a difference. An ending is meant to tie plot threads and show the difference in the growth of our Main Cast in comparison to chapter one. And Fairy Tail failed in that standpoint. There are no lasting negative consequences for Fairy Tail/Good guys - so what was the point of these 500+ chapters?

(Oh yeah, I totally did not miss Chelia’s now-regained ability to do magic when Ultear CLEARLY stated that she would never would be able to do magic again.) 

The read from there for me was alright till - the sexism monster literally started tap dancing on my screen. Why did Mashima turn an all-girl guild of baddasses into nothing more then exploitive pin-ups for some men to drool over? Why? What sort of end and conclusion does it give them? What changes did they underwent during the course of the story that is showcased in this one panel? You had ONE JOB Mashima. And yeah I am including Gray’s out of character comment in this too. What you mean it is different for guys. I have two scars that I received outside of my control - what exactly makes my body incapable of proudly displaying scars? 

And now Gray is possesive - I don’t know about you all but a quick google search reveals that isnt exactly healthy...this is mostly for you Juvia. 

The chapter continues on dumping ship possibility - totally the friendship message that Fairy Tail preached. 

And we don’t get a closure for the Spriggans. What happened to them? Are they dead? Are they on vacation at Ember Island? What about the aftermath of the war on Alvarez’s economy and politics? No civil war? No...reprocussions for Zeref’s all out war which used the WHOLE military? Yeah....open up any history textbook and you will see that such drastic losses don’t go unnoticed. 

Moving on, has Erza ever brushed her hair? Is Lucy implying Erza never took care of her hair. Forget Acnologia, Fairyheart, and Zeref - the true superpower of the universe in Fairy Tail is Erza’s hair. What a twist! 

And...apparently you can grow up from a baby into an adult in one year if you happen to be the reincarnation of Zer/vis. Honestly though, if we saw their interactions as one year olds, it would have been 100x cuter + I might have cried and forgotten my other criticisms. Missed opportunity there Mashima. Like honestly, who doesnt want to see baby M and baby Z interacting? (And why is Mavis so puny - there is no curse to make her have a body of a 13 year old...Mashima you are creeping into the super dark grey area again) 

AND Natsu again breaks the rules of privacy and being-a-decent-person and just hanging out in Lucy’s apartment uninvited again...Sighhhhhhh

And Natsu is still an asshole - dismissing Lucy’s actual heartfelt speech about being with him...even after he abandoned her. At this point I swear assholism is a dominate gene in the Dragneel Family - Zeref had it and Natsu still proudly carries the torch. I hope you don’t reproduce. 

One thing I can appreciate though is the open-ended ending. Far better then any weddings. 

Also apparently Fairies don’t have tails...man I wish this was an actual plot point. 

Well, I guess this concludes Fairy Tail, honestly reviewing this manga has been fun and I think I will pick up reviewing as part of this blog in the future. 

Comments and FRIENDLY discourse are welcome. 

And critique of my reviewing skills overall^^

[kurokoros]

Title: Deck The Halls, Bitches | Part Eight: You, Me, and the Hickey, Too

Rated: Mostly T, some adult situations and innuendos scattered throughout.

Summary: One week before Christmas, Lucy realizes she has a problem. In her frustration, she may or may not have told her entire extended family she was bringing a date to Christmas. She lied. Cana’s solution? A Craigslist Ad posted by one Natsu Dragneel. Too much whiskey, crazy family members, and a multitude of awkward situations only serve as obstacles. There will be casualties.

Word Count: 8814

FF.net | Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

Her nose is cold.

That’s the first thing Lucy registers upon waking up. The rest of her is warm to the point where it’s bordering on making her itchy with sweat—thankfully, that’s not the case. She’s quite comfortable all curled up against Natsu’s chest with her limbs tangled into an absolute mess with his—but her nose is cold. Now, usually this wouldn’t bother her in the slightest if she were at home, however, Makarov never turns on the damn heat in this house, so rather than her nose being a little chilly, it feels like it’s about to freeze off.

Lucy quite likes her nose on her face, thank you very much.

She groans, refusing to open her eyes as she clings to the last bit of sleep tugging at her subconscious. For once, she’s perfectly content with just lying here and not moving at all—soaking up the afterglow, so to speak. She’s ridiculously warm, she’s extraordinarily happy, and, do to unfortunate circumstances, she’s also very much awake.

Huffing, Lucy cuddles closer to Natsu’s chest, her bare skin pressing against his wonderfully as she tangles her legs with his, hooking a leg around his in order to drag herself closer to him. Her arm crawls across his stomach slowly beneath the blanket, fingertips barely ghosting across his skin as she slips her arm around him. Natsu sighs beneath her, his own arms tightening around her, fingers curling loosely against her skin, making her shiver slightly against him.

Lucy shifts herself upwards, wriggling against him slightly as she shifters her head from his chest to the crook of his neck in order to bury her cold nose against his skin. She sighs against him as he squirms at she sudden chill, clinging tighter when he start to shift away. Keeping her eyes squeezed shut, Lucy presses herself upwards slightly, just enough to press a gentle kiss against the underside of his jaw. His pulse jumps beneath her lips, but she merely lets them linger against his skin, in no rush to pull away from him. Her fingers begin to move, tracing nonsensical shapes against her side with a lazy touch. She pulls back slightly, only a breath away from him, before leaning in once more, pressing a second butterfly kiss to his skin.

It’s nice—just lying here next to him, as if the rest of the world just doesn’t exist. It’s quiet and warm and Lucy is completely and utterly content to just lie here and cling to sleep. Maybe, if they don’t go downstairs they can just stay here forever.

Lucy brushes her cold toes against Natsu’s bare legs, stroking them slightly. A low groan leaves Natsu’s throat at the sudden chill and she hides a smile against his throat. He huffs, arm curling tighter around her as he feels her grin, his fingers curling around her hip and squeezing suddenly, drawing a soft, surprised squeak from Lucy.

Natsu laughs, his chest vibrating against hers, and Lucy realizes he’s a lot more awake than she assumed he was. Her lips twist into a puzzled half-frown, not entirely sure why he’s even awake at the moment. Not once has he woken up before her in their few nights together—which isn’t all too strange, given that Lucy barely sleeps and wakes up at the crack of dawn every damn day. Usually, she’s up before the sun, which kind of sucks, if she’s being honest. So, either Natsu didn’t get much sleep at all last night, or Lucy finally managed to sleep in later than six in the morning for the first time in literal months.

Her lips pull into a smile once more, giddiness flooding through her. She’s always had insomnia—but she’s never taken medication for it because she hates how it makes her feel. She doesn’t like feeling groggy in the morning or the way it feels like there’s cotton shoved into her mouth—and it’s never really been a huge issue with her. She’s always gotten just enough sleep so that it hasn’t hurt her grades or made her feel sick. However, she has suffered through some nasty headaches in the past.

It’s just that the insomnia got worse after her birthday during the summer, when her date had called her to try to hook her up with one of his many rich, snobby coworkers that were old enough to be her own father. She hadn’t been able to sleep for more than a few hours at a time after that.

That’s why she started taking the late shift at the bar with Gajeel. Getting some extra cash seemed a hell of a lot better than staring at the wall and willing herself to fall asleep.

Natsu suddenly slips two fingers underneath the fabric of her underwear, skin warm against hers. He snaps the fabric against her skin gently, teasing the skin beneath playfully. Natsu’s fingers begin to trace strange shapes against her naked hip as he pulls her closer to his side and Lucy smiles.

He snaps her panties against her skin again and leans in to graze her teeth against his neck, nipping at him playfully in retaliation. Natsu chuckles, twisting to press his lips against her forehead as best he can and intertwining their legs even more, if that’s even possible at this point. Maybe she shouldn’t be quite this cuddly with someone she’s known on a personal level for just under two weeks—though, that’s rather moot at this point, considering he had her pressed up against a wall and moaning last night—but there’s just something about Natsu that makes her feel comfortable. It’s like she already knows him like the back of her hand. Hell, she’s told him some things she hasn’t told anyone else besides her family. He’s held her when she cried.

That means more to her than he’ll ever know.

And maybe it will all end after they get home, but then again, maybe’s don’t mean shit to her.

Natsu’s thumb brushes over her hip softly, barely ghosting across her flesh, and Lucy shivers at the soft touch, his fingertips tickling her bare skin slightly. “Good morning,” he murmurs against her hair, breath warm against her skin. His arm curls around her tighter, drawing her flush against his side almost languidly—as if they have all the time in the world to just lie here and do nothing.

Lucy exhales heavily against his neck, finally letting her eyes slip open with a pout. Though, she certainly appreciates the view in front of her, she thinks, gaze trailing down Natsu’s bare chest slowly, the blanket having slipped down to rest just above his hips at some point in the night. “What time is it?” she murmurs, sliding her palm up his bare stomach lazily, nails scratching at his skin gently. She glances up in time to see him swallow thickly.

He pulls back slightly, just enough to peek down at her, eyes alight with humor. “About seven,” he whispers back, as if speaking too loudly will burst the little bubble they’ve found themselves in. Natsu smiles down at her, a slicker of amusement in his gaze. “You actually slept in today,” he murmurs, his hand sliding from her hip to her rib cage, resting just beneath her breasts.

She snorts, palm settling over his rapidly beating heart. Lucy drums her fingers in time with the beating. “Seven isn’t sleeping in,” she mumbles against his collarbone, letting her eyes slip shut once more. Natsu laughs against her hair, the low rumble vibrating through the both of them. She grins against his skin.

“It is for you,” he muses, fingers tapping against her ribs gently, drawing a breathy giggle from Lucy as she rolls onto her stomach and hooks a leg between both of his. She props herself up against his chest, caging him against the bed with her arms and resting her chin against his chest. Natsu sends her a lazy grin as he stares down at her, palms sliding down to rest against her bare thighs.

Lucy wets her lips, staring down at him, something curious and wonderful in her gaze. She shifts against him slowly, pressing a lingering kiss against his beating heart. “We had sex last night,” she tells him, more so than asks. Lucy tilts her head to the side slightly, peering up at him and positively stealing his breath away. Her thumbs brush against the naked skin covering his ribs, barely ghosting against him in slow circles.

She’s not sure why she’s saying it out loud—the evidence of what they did is very clearly scattered across the room for them to see in early morning light. The sun has just barely begun to rise—a sliver of light peeking through the curtains and casting shadows on the wall beside them. Maybe she needs reassurance of what he said to her last night. Maybe she needs something more than that. Maybe she just needs to say it because that makes it real.

Swallowing a bit thickly, Lucy’s gaze shifts from his briefly before snapping right back, gauging his expression with mild trepidation.

His grip on her thighs tightens just the slightest, fingers pressing into her skin and leaving little indents on her chilled flesh, the blanket slipping from both of them to pool around their tangled legs. His eyes never once leave hers. “Should we not have?” he whispers, as if speaking too loud with utterly shatter the moment and send them slipping into something sad. He swallows as well, gazing down at her with something heartbreakingly honest in his eyes.

Not for the first time, Lucy wonders if her grandmother is wiser than Lucy has ever given her credit for.

Lucy finds herself unable to look away. “I didn’t have any problems with it,” she tells him, voice a bit shaky, but entirely honest. She wouldn’t change a thing about last night. Not one single thing. “Did you?” she asks gently, voice dipping so low that she can barely hear herself. There’s something pleading in her voice—something begging him to tell her that last night meant something—that all of this meant something.

Because it sure as hell meant something to her.

And Lucy isn’t in love, she knows that, but maybe she could be, given more time.

Or maybe Ida’s right, and they’re all just too scared to call it that, because only fools rush into things like this. Though, maybe they’re fools in love, all the same.

Natsu’s fingers slide from her thighs to her waist slowly—almost lazily as he stares at her, gaze drinking her in and swallowing her whole. His palms are warm against her sides, and that’s when Lucy’s heart decides to do something funny in her chest, positively squeezing with something she can’t begin to describe. “I can’t say that I do,” he whispers back to her, his own heart stuttering beneath her lips.

Her lips curve into a small smile at his words, but she hides it against his chest, placing another soft, slow kiss against his heartbeat. She knows that he can feel it, judging by the way his own lips curve up at the ends. “Okay,” she tells him, but a breath away from his skin, “then, we’re good.”

He nods, still staring down at her. His fingers tap against her waist lightly, drawing her gaze to his face. When she does, he grins down at her, pulling his lower lip between his teeth, gaze practically sparkling. “Do you think they heard us?” Natsu asks her playfully, drawing a fingertip all the way up her spine to the base of her neck, drawing a shiver and a breathy sigh from Lucy.

She giggles, shaking her head. “God, I hope not,” she tells him, shifting upwards so she’s hovering directly above him, lips mere inches from his. “They’ll never let me live it down if they did.” She laughs again, wrinkling her nose as she thinks about how noisy they must have been last night. They weren’t exactly screaming for all to hear, but there’s still the off chance that they may have been a tad louder than they should have been.

There’s a good chance that Laxus may have heard something, but he wouldn’t dare make fun of her for it. Lucy had caught him and Mira in some rather compromising positions back before they were married. He knows better than to mock her.

“Well, you did start it,” Natsu reminds her, finger sliding back down her spine slowly. He grins as she wriggles against him, arching into him as his fingers brush against her skin. Natsu lets out a little laugh as Lucy huffs.

She sends him a dirty look, eyes narrowing just the slightest as she peers down at him critically. “You’re the one that shoved me against a door,” she snaps back, trying to fight back a smile. “And it’s not like you did anything to stop me,” Lucy tacks on, leaning up to nip at his chin.

Natsu laughs outright this time. “Touché,” he murmurs, palms sliding back to her hips as Lucy swings a leg over his hips, straddling him. She grins at him, hovering just a breath away from his lips.

“It takes two to tango, Honey,” she tells him teasingly, leaning back just the slightest as he tries to kiss her, playfully avoiding the advance. Her thumbs brush against his rib cage once again, drawing a little sigh from somewhere deep in his chest.

His eyes lock with hers, an equally teasing glint in his own eyes. “Does that mean I get to call you babe, now?” he jokes, squeezing her hips softly as his warm breath puffs against her lips. His nose bumps against hers, he’s so close, but neither of them make to pull away.

She leans in, placing a butterfly kiss against his exposed skin. He shivers beneath her, and Lucy’s smile widens as she continues to pepper his jaw with little kisses, humming to herself when he tilts his head slightly to give her better access. Lucy’s grin turns wicked. She wets her lips, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “Whatever the hell you want,” she murmurs against him, one hand slipping down his side to finger the hem of his boxers.

Natsu rolls the two of them over, pressing her against the mattress gently. For a moment, he simply stares down at her, one hand rising to cup her cheek, thumb brushing against her skin slowly. “Good,” he finally says, smiling down at her fondly. And then he leans down, kissing her softly. She smiles against his mouth and he releases her after several long seconds, beginning to place little kisses against her cheek and jaw and chin.

“Is that all you’ve got?” she teases, looping her arms around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. He takes the bait, leaning down to kiss her again, only harder this time, mouth pressing against hers with just enough pressure to make her head spin. She grins against him, sliding an arm down around his shoulders. His teeth nip at her lower lip, followed by his tongue brushing over the same spot playfully. She sighs against him, feeling him smile against her mouth.

He hums against her lips, palms sliding up her sides slowly. His tongue teases the seam of her lips, silently asking entrance that she grants easily. His tongue sweeps into her mouth, brushing everywhere, skimming over the back of her teeth and the roof of her mouth, wrapping around her own, already familiar with her from the night before.

She gives the intruding appendage a sharp nip and he retaliates by gripping her hips sharply, making her gasp against him. She tugs at his hair and he growls low in his throat, pressing closer still. His teeth tug at her lower lip again, nibbling it and tickling her slightly. Lucy giggles against his lips, feeling them quirk up into a smile a moment later. She quickly catches his lower lip between both of hers, nipping at him before drawing her tongue against his lip ring. He pulls away from her with a wet pop, breathing heavily. She simply smiles up at him, panting as well.

“And how was that?” he pants against her ear, lips trailing across her cheek and jaw and chin lowly. He’s not kissing her anymore, just touching her. She tilts her head to the side and his smile widens, his lips trailing down her neck languidly as he settles on top of her, pressing her further into the mattress. He finds a particularly sensitive spot just below her jaw and Lucy releases a shaky breath.

She wheezes out a little laugh, completely breathless as she clutches at his arms. “I’ve had better,” she jokes, humming slightly as he continues to peruse her neck lazily. An amused sound leaves him, his arms curling around her back underneath her and pulling her flush against his chest. His lips press against her rapidly thrumming pulse, her breath catching in her throat as his teeth graze her skin.

“Hey, Lucy,” he murmurs against her throat, placing butterfly kisses all the way down to her collarbone, hands sliding high on her back play with the clasp of her bra. He bites down on her neck gently, and she can’t seem to catch her breath, merely humming in response. His lips leave her neck suddenly, and when her eyes flutter open they lock with his. Natsu leans down, nuzzling her cheek softly and making her giggle before pulling back once more. “When we get home,” he starts slowly, gaze locked with hers, “do you want to go on a real date?” Natsu asks her, wetting his lips and swallowing thickly, something like trepidation shinning in his eyes.

Her breath catches in her throat, eyes widening just the slightest as she stares up at him. She uncurls her arms from around his neck, fingers trembling slightly as she cups his face in her hands. Out of all the things she was expecting him to say, that hadn’t been one of them. Her cold fingers smooth against his skin gently, and he leans into her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her palm, eyes never once leaving hers.

“I would love to,” Lucy tells him, smiling up at him softly, heart squeezing in her chest. Natsu’s lips twist up into a grin, a toothy smile spreading across his face before he ducks down and presses a kiss to her temple, tucking her under his chin a moment later.

They seemed to have done this backwards, Lucy thinks, smiling against his collar bone and leaning up to press her lips against his skin. Him meeting her entire family before the two of them have even gone on one date, and all. She doesn’t mind, though, if anything, it just proves that their relationship will be interesting.

Lucy likes interesting.

Before either of them can say anything else, there’s a banging on the door. “Hey, Lovebirds!” Loke calls from the other side of the door, something sarcastic in his voice. “Put your clothes on and get down here so we can open shit!” he tells them, voice slightly muffled. A moment later, Lucy can hear him walk away.

Natsu shifts away from her, his eyes wide and alight with amusement as he peers down at her. Lucy groans, wrapping her arms around his back and pressing her face up into his neck. Another defeated groan leaves her as Natsu laughs.

“I think he heard us,” he date tells her, his laughter vibrating through her.

Lucy hits him with a pillow.

By the time Natsu and Lucy managed to get downstairs, everyone else was already settled around the tree, waiting patiently for the pair of them. Granted, it had taken them a longer time than should have been necessary for them to finally leave their room—which is entirely Natsu’s fault really. They would have been down much sooner if he hadn’t have shoved her up against the door again in order to pepper kisses down her exposed neck.

Unfortunately, neither of them had bothered to look in a mirror that morning, leaving the pair of them completely unaware of several very important marks on their exposed skin. Lucy had managed to cover up most of the light bruising on her hips and thighs, tossing on a pair of leggings and Natsu’s shirt from the night before in her rush. The collared shirt was buttoned haphazardly, crooked at the bottom, but she couldn’t have cared less about the buttons, given the way Natsu had slid his hand under her shirt and up to her chest as soon as he saw her in it, slipping a hand under her bra to squeeze her breast.

She had giggled and shoved him away reluctantly, telling him to put a shirt on so they could join everyone else.

Lucy never once thought to take a look at her neck in the mirror as she pulled her hair up into a messy bun, far too distracted with the way Natsu kept pressing butterfly kisses against her shoulders and the back of her neck.

It was only after they made it downstairs and saw matching smirks on the adults’ faces that she realized something wasn’t quite right. Lisanna had taken one look at her and burst into laughter, Bixlow doing the same a moment later. Loke had shot the two of them a disgusted look, blanching at them and turning away, pretending to gag. Aries had blushed, sending Lucy a small wave, but unable to meet her gaze. Mira smirked at the two of them, waving off her blissfully unaware children and placing a placating hand on Laxus’s arm.

Her father, of course, looked nothing short of disgusted as he turned away from her, but that’s nothing Lucy isn’t used to. He father never was able to look her in the eye without something shameful in his gaze. Ida, however, had a very curious reaction. The woman had smiled at Lucy, very much the cat that got the cream, her gaze drifting from Lucy’s eyes, the her neck, and finally to Natsu in rapid succession. Her smirk had only widened at Lucy’s confusion before Ida finally tapped a finger against the side of her neck slowly, grinning all the while.

It had taken all of ten seconds for Lucy to realize what her grandmother meant, her eyes widening comically as she remembered Natsu’s rough treatment of her neck the night before. She had briefly lost her breath in that moment—remembering the way his lips and teeth and tongue had felt against her sensitive neck as he pressed her against the door, hands squeezing her hips as he rocked against her and—

It had taken everything Lucy had not to slap a hand over the hickeys covering her neck, and when she looked up at Natsu, he at least had the decency to look sheepish. Though, she couldn’t entirely blame him, as her gaze locked on a rather tender looking spot just beneath his jaw, the skin there slightly discolored.

Well if her family hadn’t heard them, they definitely knew what happened after seeing them.

That had been nearly an hour ago, however, and most of her family seems to have either forgotten about it, or simply decided not to bring it up. Which is a good thing, obviously. She really doesn’t need to have a chat with her family about her sex life. Her disheveled state had also kept her father away during the whole gift giving process. He had taken one look at her and then left the room completely, much to her amusement.

Thankfully the Christmas haul was over and everyone had dispersed throughout the house. Lucy had received a multitude of gift cards for Christmas, an old necklace from her grandmother that must have been an heirloom, three pairs of colorful thermal socks from Aries, and Loke had thrown a condom at Natsu when no one was paying attention.

Lucy hadn’t missed how he shoved it into his pocket, her thighs clenching slightly as he sent her a look out of the corner of his eyes.

The family room is quiet now, everyone disappearing to do their own thing. Laxus and Mira went upstairs to pack as Elfman whisked the twins outside to play, Evergreen trailing behind them. Ida and Makarov are in the kitchen chatting with Loke and Aries about when their wedding would be, and Lisanna and Bixlow are plopped onto the couch beside Natsu and Lucy, cuddling together and staring at the other couple with wicked grins.

Frankly, Lucy doesn’t give a damn where her father is.

Lucy sighs, leaning back against Natsu’s chest as he curls his arms around her, fingers plucking at the hem of his stolen shirt absentmindedly, his chin coming to rest against the top of her head as he pulls her onto his lap. He hides a smile against her hair, the fingers of his free hand coming up to rub against one of the bite marks on Lucy’s neck almost apologetically—almost, because he doesn’t even try to hide the satisfaction in his eyes or the way his lips twist into a smirk against her hair.

“Hey, Lucy,” Lisanna coos suddenly, leaning off the couch slightly to poke her head in front of Lucy from where she’s curled up on the floor. The other girl blinks her big, blue eyes at Lucy, fluttering them innocently, but Lucy narrows her eyes slightly, not missing the evil glint in her friend’s eyes. “You’re still coming to the party right?” Lucy nods slowly, unsure what Lisanna is getting at. The other girl beams at Lucy’s affirmation, smirking. “Good! Your hickey can come too, if it wants,” she tacks on slyly, giggling.

Lucy swats at her friend, but misses as Lisanna jerks back, cackling. Bixlow snickers as well, and Lucy can fell Natsu’s lips against her temple, attempting to placate the fuming girl in his arms. His grip on her tightens, and Lucy crosses her arms with a huff, knowing she won’t be able to reach Lisanna. “Shut up, Lisanna,” she settles with, sending her friend a dirty look. It’s not a good comeback in the slightest, but it’s all Lucy has at the moment.

“What!” the other girl giggles, mock offense crossing her face. “I’m just being polite,” she tells Lucy, eyeing the bruise on Lucy’s neck appraisingly. Lucy blushes. Lisanna had pulled out her phone earlier to give Lucy a good look at just how good of a job Natsu did on her neck. The hickey is big, an off purple color towards the center and red at the edges, and exceptionally sensitive to the touch, she learned when Natsu pressed him lips against it when no one was looking, drawing a shaky gasp from Lucy. Jerk. “I want your hickey to know that everything is okay and I appreciate it,” Lisanna tells her, patting her on the shoulder before reaching out to poke the hickey lightly.

Lucy raising an eyebrow at Lisanna, lips pursing slightly. “You appreciate my hickey,” she says blankly, sarcasm threatening to creep into her words. She holds it back though, eye twitching slightly in annoyance.

It’s just a hickey, dammit. It’s not like she’s sprouted wings or a purple dragon is trying to crawl out of her neck. Actually, that would be really gross. Eww.

Lisanna claps her hands in front of her, grinning widely. “Well, yeah,” she says, scoffing like it’s obvious. “Look at that monster!” she continues, throwing her hands up. “Natsu did a damn good job.” The man behind her grins, one arm leaving her waist to high-five Lisanna. Lucy elbows him in the stomach. He ignores her.

Natsu presses a quick kiss against her forehead, lips twisting into an amused smile. Lucy rolls her eyes, thinking he’s way too okay with all of this. “If you think that’s good, you should see what Lucy did to my back,” he tells the other couple suddenly, an utterly serious look on his face.

Lucy gasps, nearly choking on her spit. “Natsu!” she hisses, utterly mortified by his comment.

Bixlow quirks a brow, reaching over Lisanna to pull up the back of Natsu’s shirt and asses the damage. Lucy groans, shifting to bury her face against Natsu’s shoulder. Bixlow whistles approvingly at what he sees. “Damn, Bro,” he muses, clearly impressed with Lucy’s handy-work. “She got you good.” He drops Natsu’s shirt and turns to Lucy, who glares. “I didn’t know you were a freak, Lucy,” he jokes, jerking back to avoid a slap in the face.

“Shut up, Bixlow,” she hisses back, baring her teeth at him threateningly. So maybe she did do a number on Natsu’s back. So what? He certainly wasn’t complaining about it at the time! And why is she getting made fun of for the massive hickey? That was Natsu’s fault, not hers! They should make fun of him instead! “I hope you choke,” she tells him, pouting slightly.

Bixlow gasps, placing a hand over his heart in mock hurt. “Rude!” he barks at her, jabbing a finger in her direction. “Rude and uncalled fo—”

Lisanna slaps a hand over his mouth, cutting him off before he can finish. She rolls her eyes, turning back to Lucy, the humor leaving her eyes slightly. “But, seriously,” she starts, you are still coming right?” Her head cocks to the side curiously. “I need to know a rough estimate of people so I can get Bixlow to buy enough alcohol.”

Said man pulls his girlfriend’s hand away from his mouth, frowning at her slightly. He quirks a brow at her, crossing his arms and sending her a curious look. “Why do I have to buy it?” he complains, staring down at the girl on his lap.

Lisanna rolls her eyes playfully. “Because I said so,” she jokes, jabbing a finger into her boyfriend’s side and making him yelp. He bats her hands away, but smiles nonetheless.

“Fair enough,” he replies, shrugging halfheartedly.

Lucy rolls her eyes at the two of them, tilting her head back to rest against Natsu’s shoulder, a small smile playing on her lips as she curls closer to his chest, feeling his arms tighten around her just the slightest. “Yeah, we’ll both be there,” she promises, much to Lisanna’s excitement. She’s pretty sure she promised this last night, but it’s probably good to reaffirm their plans now that everyone is sober. “Cana won’t miss a party and I can probably drag Gajeel along, too,” she tacks on.

“And they’ll both be bringing dates?” Lisanna asks, peering down at Lucy.

“Most likely.” Lucy shrugs, lips pursing as she thinks about her friends. Cana will definitely want to bring Kagura with, and even if the other girl isn’t really the party type, Cana will probably drag her along anyway. Gajeel will go with enough hounding, and Lucy can get Levy to go easily enough. “Cana’s persuasive and Gajeel won’t go unless I can get his girlfriend to go, too, but she loves me, so she’ll come if I ask.”

A little underhanded? Definitely. Does she care? Not at all.

Lisanna beams at her. “All right, cool! I can’t wait!” Her eyes narrow suddenly and she twists to face Lucy directly.

She raises a brow. “What?” she asks Lisanna, sighing slightly.

“Will your hickey be coming too? I only ask because—”

Lucy reaches behind herself blindly, latching onto the first thing she finds, and then tosses a handful of wrapping paper at Lisanna, who merely laughs as the shiny gift wrap does absolutely nothing to her. Lucy pouts slightly, then rips a bow off of another scrap of paper. She lunges forward, slapping the sticky part onto Lisanna’s forehead as the other girl squeals in surprise.

That’ll teach her.

By noon, everyone is gone besides Natsu, Lucy, and the other Heartfilias. Laxus, the Strauss’s, and their significant others all left around ten in order to make it to a Christmas Day lunch with Mirajane, Elfman, and Lisanna’s parents. Loke and Aries left not long after them, the pair having a five hour drive ahead of them and not wanting to get caught in traffic on their way home. The goodbyes had been full of hugs and promises to see each other soon, as well as Lucy swearing to come visit the twins the next time she has time off.

All in all, the weekend went pretty well, save for a few hiccups between herself and her father, but she doesn’t want to think about that at all. Maybe next time they’ll work through some of their issues, but it’s too late for that right now. She barely even wants to look at him and he clearly has nothing to say to her. And she’s okay with that. Maybe now he’s finally gotten the message and he’ll leave her alone.

“Goodbye, Zvyozdochka,” Makarov tells her, pulling Lucy into his arms from his spot on the porch. The pet name rolls off his tongue lovingly, arms squeezing around her tightly as he murmurs goodbyes against her hair, some in English, others in thick Russian as he repeats them over and over.

Her heart squeezes in her chest, tears coming to her eyes as she hugs her grandfather. She really does wish she could see him more, but it’s hard with the schedule she keeps. If she finally manages to be promoted from an intern at Sorcerer Weekly, maybe she can quite her job at the bar and have more free hours to visit her family. “You too, Dedushka,” she whispers in response, pulling back just enough to smile at him.

Makarov grins back at her, lifting his hands and resting them against her cheeks softly, cupping her face in his palm. She raises her hands, fingers curling around his wrists. “I better see you soon, yeah?” he asks, smiling wider when she nods, tears spilling over her eyes. He wipes them away with his thumbs, shaking his head softly. “You were away too long,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion.

Lucy nods again, laughing through her tears. “You will,” she tells him softly, swallowing back a sob as she stares back at her old grandfather, praying that this won’t be the last time she sees him, just as she does every time she has to leave. Makarov’s age always scares her and she hates that he’s alone in this house, but he won’t leave and she respect that. “I promise.”

“Good,” he replies, releasing her with a grin, “you stay away too long,” he jokes, turning from her to pull Natsu into a hug as well, much to the younger man’s surprise. Lucy giggles, heart warming as she watches her date’s arms curl around her grandfather.

She turns to Ida, who sweeps her into her arms straight away. “Goodbye, Lucy, my dear,” she coos, releasing her just as suddenly as she had hugged her. Ida always has been a flighty one, always flitting around and never staying in one place for too long. Lucy has no idea when she’ll see Ida next, but she supposes that’s half the fun. “I’ll see you soon,” Ida promises, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Don’t have too much fun, yeah?” she jokes, glancing behind her at Natsu, winking.

“Grandma!” she gasps, scandalized, but Ida merely cackles and releases her, practically skipping her way to Jude’s car and tossing the door open.

Lucy shakes her head, giggling, and sighs when Natsu walks up behind her, arms curling around her waist gently as he tugs her against his chest. Lucy tilts her head back, smiling up at him as she hears Makarov chuckle and head back into the house. Natsu grins right back at her, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek, before unwinding his arms from her and lifting his bag from the ground, tossing it over his shoulder before wiggling his eyebrows and dashing to her car. She giggles again, about to follow him when a voice stops her.

“Lucy,” he father says sternly, stepping up to her before she can spin on her heel and take off after Natsu. She considers ignoring him, pretending she hadn’t heard and just making a run for her car, but shakes the thought away. If he wants her to be the bigger person, fine, she’ll be the bigger person. He’s been the one ignoring her all day, not the other way around.

As much as she would love to just walk away, she just can’t. He’s always had this power over her—this innate ability to keep her under his thumb. No matter how many outbursts she has at him when she’s tipsy and angry, she always turns back into that scared little ten year old girl whenever she’s faced with him the next time. Sometimes, she considers herself something akin to a kicked puppy, always crawling back with her tail between her legs, apologizing even though she’s done nothing wrong.

And maybe that’s how it’s always going to be. Him too stubborn to listen and change, and her too emotionally damaged to cut him out of her life for good. Somehow, she keeps hoping he’ll change and that they’ll reconcile, but it’s been four years since she first started hoping that, and nothing’s happened yet. Who knows, maybe this will be the last time and she can finally—finally move on with her life.

She’s tired of his sharp tongue and degrading words. She’s had enough and knows that she deserves better than that—she deserves a lot better than that.

“So you’re going to talk to me now?” she snaps suddenly, gaze jerking up to meet his icily. Her heart squeezes painfully in her chest as he takes another step towards her, but she fights back the urge to flinch away. Lucy crosses her arms over her chest, jaw clenching tightly as her father stops no more than a yard away from her.

His eyes narrow slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line that Lucy knows means trouble. She steels herself, waiting for him to say something bitter or cruel—something more socially acceptable that slapping her across the face, but no less biting. “I tried to talk to you last night,” he reminds her, back straightening so that he’s towering over her, glaring down his nose at her, disappointment written across his face.

Lucy takes a half-step back, shaking her head slowly as a laugh bubbles in her throat. She swallows it down, arms curling righter around herself protectively. She’s used to the disappointment, but it always hurts just as much as it did the first time she saw it. “No,” she corrects him, giggling slightly. It’s too high pitched, too strained, and it sounds false even to her. All of her courage from the last two nights is gone and all she wants to do is disappear. “You tried to berate me in front of everyone, thinking I wouldn’t talk back,” she says, a trace of venom in her words as she tries to mask the trembling of her hands.

Her father sighs heavily, as if she just doesn’t understand and he’s too tired to keep explaining things to her. Lucy wonders if her father thinks she’s stupid—if she just can’t think for herself. She knows her father is a sexist pig, amongst other things, but does he really think she’s so simple-minded that she doesn’t know the difference between an apology and victim blaming?

She lived with his emotional abuse for years. She knows better now, even if he still terrifies her.

“I was trying to solve the problem,” her father says slowly, taking another step forward, apparently ignorant to Lucy’s obvious discomfort. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. That seems like the most likely option. He reaches out to place a hand on her shoulder, but she flinches back immediately, eyes wide as she stares up at him.

Lucy inhales sharply through her nose, suddenly finding her nerves as he drops his hand back to his side, seemingly startled that she doesn’t want him to touch her. Lucy sneers, lips curving back over her teeth threateningly. “And which problem is that?” she asks rhetorically, not giving him a chance to respond. “The one where I won’t sell my body to a strange man just so you can make a business deal?” she snaps at him, grinning sardonically. “The one where you don’t listen to a word I say?” she continues, shrugging and letting out a bitter, watery laugh. “Or how about the one where you made me feel worthless for eight years? The one where you made me think I was the problem?” He takes another step forward, hand clenching at his side, but she stands her ground this time. “What about that one, Dad?” she asks lowly, voice nothing more than a whisper against the breeze.

For a moment, she thinks he must not have heard her, as if her voice had been carried away with the falling snow. Lucy suddenly becomes increasingly aware of the weather, her fingers beginning to freeze painfully from the cold as snowflakes stick to her messy hair. She’d forgotten to grab her gloves out of her bag earlier, and she doesn’t need to look down to know that her fingers have begun to turn a burning red with the cold.

“I didn’t know,” her father says after a moment, voice softer than she’s ever heard it before. Her gaze locks with his and her father has the audacity to look ashamed. Somehow that only serves to make her angrier. Is he really only realizing all of this just now? Did he seriously think the things he did were okay?

Lucy laughs in his face, but it’s bitter, something toxic curling through her stomach. She feels sick all of a sudden. Very, very sick. “You didn’t know?” she repeats incredulously, shaking her head slowly. Behind her, she hears a car door slam, but pays no mind to it. “You didn’t ever stop to think,” she nearly shrieks, hand flying up and fisting in her hair, “that telling your fourteen year old daughter that the only thing she was worth was what’s between her legs was fucked up?” she asks, voice dipping into a whisper and cracking as she finishes. Tears burn at her eyes and she laughs again, shaking her head rapidly.

How could he have possibly thought that any of things he did were okay? He was raised by Grandma Ida, he should have known better! Then again, maybe who raises you has a lot less to do with how you turn out than Lucy ever thought. Look at Lucy, she’s absolutely nothing like her father—she never wants to be.

Her father sighs again, sound tired, but she turns away from him, locking her gaze on her boots, watching snowflakes swirl through the air and land on the smooth leather before melting, leaving little streaks against her shoes. Lucy’s fingers begin to tremble from the cold, but she ignores the biting feeling of her palms.

“I’ve made some mistakes,” he says softly, reaching out for her once more, as if a hug and a half-assed acknowledgment will fix everything between them. As if all of their familial problems can be solved just like that, years of hurt and anger just brushed away like it meant nothing.

Lucy thinks her father must be the delusional one if he thinks he can touch her.

“Yeah,” she agrees quietly, steel lacing her words, “you have.” Her agreement seems to have shocked him, despite the fact that this is exactly what she’s been saying for years now. Lucy is usually able to forgive and never forget, but this time she can’t bring herself to do it. He made her life hell, she doesn’t owe him anything anymore.

She just wants to go home.

Her father stands stock still as he ponders her agreement, shoving his hands in his pockets and squaring his shoulders. At least he doesn’t try to touch her again. “But so have you,” he says suddenly, breaking through her thoughts and causing her to take a step back in shock, her eyes going wide.

“Me?” she sputters, eyes snapping up to meet his cold ones. She’s never seen love in Jude Heartfilia’s eyes, at least, not directed at her. She doubts she ever will. “What the hell have I ever done?” she asks him, voice cracking. All of the fight leaves her, self-doubt beginning to creep into her mind. This happens every time they talk. He always finds a way to turn things back on her.

Maybe she is the problem after all.

He snorts, hand leaving his pocket to gesture to the hickey on her neck, the light bruising appearing ever darker against her pale throat not the she’s surrounded by the snow. “Parading around with that thing on your neck,” he spits at her suddenly, causing her to take a step back at the sudden anger in his voice. “Like some little harlot.”

She slaps a hand over the mark, eyes wide as she stares up at her only living parent. Hurt floods through her even though she knows she should be used to comments like that by now. She’s come to expect them, actually, but that does nothing to sweeten the blow.

He takes another step towards her, but freezes just as suddenly, gaze locked on something over Lucy’s shoulder.

“Hey!” a voice barks from behind Lucy, tone low and dangerous. Lucy relaxes, the tension leaving her shoulders immediately as she recognizes the voice. Natsu steps up behind her and coils an arm around her hips, drawing her back against him gently. She latches onto his arm with shaking fingers, leaning back against his warm chest as soon as his arm is around her. “You don’t get to talk to her like that,” Natsu threatens lowly, grip tightening around her as she sinks into him.

She can’t see his face from her position, but she knows Natsu isn’t happy. He got into it with her father once already over break, he’s clearly not going to be happy about having to do so again. At least she isn’t crying this time. Natsu might just knock her father out if she was.

“I’m her father,” she hears her dad argue, a lilting scoff to his voice, as if he finds it amusing that Natsu doesn’t like the way he talks to Lucy. Then again, what has her father ever cared about what anyone thinks about the way he talks to his own daughter? Out of every aspect of his life, that’s the one thing her father’s never given a damn about.

Natsu practically growls against Lucy’s ear. His fingers dig into her side harshly, but she can barely feel it. Natsu, however, loosens his grip immediately once he notices it. “And I don’t give a shit,” he snaps back at her father, glaring at Jude over Lucy’s hear, rage boiling in his eyes. “You don’t get to talk to her like that,” he repeats with a snarl, fingers splaying across Lucy’s stomach, as if covering more of her with make her disappear from her father’s gaze entirely.

“Natsu,” she whispers gently, sighing slightly. Talking with her father just isn’t worth it. She slides a shaky hand from his arm to his palm and his hand relaxes, letting her thread her fingers through his gently. She squeezes his fingers, shaking her head softly, but he ignores her in favor of continuing to berate her father.

“You know you made her cry, right?” Natsu continues, voice so low she almost can’t hear him. She didn’t realize how angry he must have been the last time, when he walked into the kitchen and saw her crying. He seemed more concerned with getting her out of there then, but now she’s not crying and apparently Natsu’s fuse is a hell of a lot shorter than hers.

Lucy sucks in a shaky breath, back straightening as she clutches his hand tighter. They need to leave, now. “Natsu, just leave it alone,” she says softly, so only he can hear, but he just shakes his head and gives her hip a gentle squeeze with his free hand. Clearly, he isn’t as ready to walk away from this as she is.

He continues yelling at her father, though much softer this time, all traces of steel leaving his words as he speaks. “You made your daughter cry herself to sleep,” he tells Jude quietly, voice accusing and utterly unfriendly, and Lucy glances up in time to watch her father flinch back as if he’s been slapped across the face. “What kind of parent does that?” Natsu asks, malice lacing his tone. The question is mocking bitter and harsh, but not asked angrily. Natsu manages to mask his rage with curiosity, as if truly wondering how Jude could do something like that.

He father swallows thickly, but his voice is shaky when he finally manages to say something. “You know nothing about me, Boy,” he retorts.

Natsu just laughs. “Yeah, well, neither did you,” he reminds her father, “but that didn’t stop you from taking one look at me and writing me off, did it?” Her father doesn’t answer, but Lucy doesn’t care at this point. “Frankly, I’m just calling it like I see it.” Natsu unwinds himself from her arms, taking her by the hand instead. “Stay the hell away from her unless you have something that’s not bigoted to say,” Natsu snaps, tone final. He gives Lucy’s hand a tug, and Lucy lets him lead her away from her father with a light touch, his free arm coming up to wrap around her shoulders.

Behind her, she can hear her father’s car door slam shut, the car pulling into reverse a moment later. She releases a shaky breath, shaking her head softly.

Natsu stops about halfway to her car, stepping in front of her and cupping her face with his warm hands. Lucy blinks up at him, meeting his eyes slowly. There’s still anger burning in his green eyes, but it dims when she looks at him, melting into something soft and sad. “Are you okay?” he murmurs, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs, gaze flickering across her face slowly, searching for something.

Lucy sends him the best smile she can manage, but it isn’t much. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he whispers back, hands fisting against his shirt. She sighs, eyes squeezing shut for the briefest moment. “Let’s just go home,” she tells him.

“Okay,” Natsu nods, but doesn’t move, instead, he steps forward and wraps his arms all the way around her, one hand moving to tangle in her hair as the other rubs soothing circles against her back over her jacket. Her own arms slip around him, drifting to his back under his leather jacked and tangling with his shirt. Natsu squeezes her against his chest, pressing his cheek against the top of her head gently.

She wets her lips, swallowing thickly as she presses the side of her face against his chest, feeling his heartbeat against her ear loudly, as if threatening to beat straight out of his chest. “Thank you,” she whispers, cuddling closer to him.

Natsu doesn’t respond for a long while.

“So about that date,” he says suddenly, changing the subject so easily that it causes a surprised giggle to bubble out of her throat. He smiles against her hair, shifting to place a gently kiss against her temple, lips lingering there as he continues to speak. “How do you feel about Mongolian takeout and watching movies on my couch?” he murmurs against her skin.

Lucy pulls back just enough to peek up at him, a soft smile spreading across her face. “I think that sounds great,” she tells him honestly, pressing up on her toes to place a soft kiss against his lips. When she pulls away he leans down to snag another quick kiss, making her giggle once more.

In hindsight, she’s glad that she wasn’t able to take shifts at the bar this week. If she had, she never would have meet the man standing in front of her, heartbreaking honesty shining in his eyes as he peers down at her, something soft and fond in his expression.

This may just be her favorite Christmas yet.

Natsu leans down to give her another soft kiss and she meets him halfway, arms raising to loop around his neck and pull him closer to her.

[bsidethetrees]

Parenthood: Beach Retreat.3

"You gotta mash it, Pike," Laxus told the little boy as he handed him some raw hamburger meat. "Yes, like- No, don't eat it!"

"Laxus," Mira sighed from over where she was cutting up potatoes to fry them. "He can help with something else. Not that. It's too high a chance he will get a bite."

"Yeah, I've come to realize that."

At the moment, the three of them were in the kitchen of the beach house, Mirajane working on the fried potatoes while Laxus and Pike were supposed to be getting some burger patties ready to grill.

The latter wasn't going so great. Mainly because Pike just wasn't much help. With anything. He did, however, insist on helping. He seemed to not want to let Mirajane or Laxus out of his sight, still a little spooked from his afternoon out at the beach.

In fact, his brother and cousin were still out there playing, Freed and Elfman with them. Bickslow and Lisanna had taken off with their little dolls, claiming that they were going out for the evening. Bickslow had mumbled something to her about finding fireworks and, well, with a quest on hand, they'd probably wind up lost and not even make it home till the next day.

Evergreen had gone off as well, though it was just up to her room, claming that so much sun had given her a headache. Then Master was milling around somewhere. Mira and Laxus weren't too certain where he was. The dog was around though, in the kitchen, resting on the floor, as he always was when there was food to be made.

"Daddy," Pike complained as the man took the ground beef back from him, squished it into a patty and put it on a waiting plate before lifting him up and taking him over to the sink to wash his hands.

"You're not ready to help with raw meat, buddy. Daddy's sorry." Laxus even gave him a kiss. It was something that, when he first began caring for Nathan all those years ago, would never happen, but slowly had become the norm for him and his boys. He loved them. And he could openly admit that. Nothing would ever stop him from doing it either. "Here. You go play with the doggy, huh? And let Daddy finish this up. Then we'll go out and grill 'em, okay?"

Just so long as he was able to keep both of them in his sights, Pike was fine.

This was broken up later as Mira stayed in to fix the potatoes and Laxus took Pike outside with him. He whined a bit, but Laxus really wanted to show him how great he was at grilling burgers, so there was no other way.

"At the risk of sounding like your Uncle Elf," Laxus said once he had the thing going, quickly filling the air with the scent of charcoal and grilling meat, "this is a real man's thing. It's somethin' you gotta learn, buddy."

Mmmm…maybe. But not that day. No. Pike just went to sit at the picnic table and color in the coloring book Laxus had brought out there for him. The sun was starting to set and to anyone else, the view of the ocean with the sun going down on it would be beautiful. To the three-year-old, all it meant was that day one was complete. He hoped there wouldn't be a second one. Because that dang water was sneaky. It clearly had Mommy, Daddy, and bubba on its side. No telling what else it had up its sleeve. Err, wave.

Whatever.

The point was that it was coming for him. Pike just knew it.

"Daddy?"

"What, buddy?" After getting the burgers on, he went to take a seat next to the boy on the picnic table. Pike was hardly tall enough to even see over the top of it, so Laxus easily shifted him to his lap.

"Go home?"

"Not for a bit, buddy." Laxus gave his head a kiss. "Don't worry. I know today was scary. Daddy'll make sure tomorrow isn't so bad."

That night wasn't too bad, anyways. Eventually Laxus called down to the beach to the others that the burgers were all ready about the time that Mirajane came out of the house with a bowl full of fried potatoes, already having called for Makarov and Ever to come if they were eating.

"Doggy," Pike giggled as he came to rest beneath the bench and wait for scraps from the three little boys. "Nate."

His brother was back then, carrying one of the buckets in his arms, as if it were slightly heavy. Their Uncle Elf had all the other, empty ones, along with the shovels, and went to set them somewhere on the deck as Mace and Nate rushed to join Pike.

"Here, bubba." Nate sat right next to his brother as Mace only sat on the other side of the table, resting his head against it as he stared at them. "We bought you seashells. Since you're too much of a baby to be down there yourself."

"Nate," Laxus warned, but Pike was enthralled. Not by his words, of course, but rather what he found in the bucket.

They were so pretty! And there were so many! There were some rocks in there too, but they were mostly ones that looked really cool and Mace or Nate thought the boy would like. Pike liked looking at colors and stuff. He also liked to try to eat rocks though, so Freed had warned them to watch him if they gave him those seashells.

"Nate," Pike complained as the boy took one of them from him as he started to lick it. "Mine!"

"You can't eat it," Mace giggled. "You just look at it."

Mirajane went to tap both of them gently on the heads before getting to work on a plate for the three children. Elfman went in for a bit, claiming he'd be back to eat after he washed up, and Freed only went to sit with the children.

"It was a rather disappointing day, huh?" he remarked to Mace who was still laying with his head down. Sighing, the boy only shrugged.

"We couldn't find the treasure," he announced to all the others. "Anywhere."

"But you found Pike all these fun seashells," Mira said as she grinned over at them. "Isn't that great, dragon?"

"I ain't takin' all those home with us."

"Laxus-"

"I'm not."

There was no need to. If he could just get away from bubba, Pike would have a chance to eat most of them.

Nate had a good visual on him though and didn't seem to be letting him get away with it for the time being.

"Burgers?" Ever asked in what sounded like disgust when she finally made it down the stairs. "Great."

Laxus usually would have snapped at her, but as it was, she was the only reason they were there. She literally was the only one allowed to complain about the trip.

"It is great," Mirajane agreed, either not catching the sarcasm or ignoring it. "Dragon makes good burgers."

They let the kids and Makarov, when he got there, sit at the table, Mira taking up a seat there as well, to help Pike from getting too messy. Since he wasn't going to be in the water anymore, they'd long taken him out of his trunks and put him back into clothes. No need to get those dirty.

Laxus, Freed, Evergreen, and Elfman sat around in the chairs on the deck, the first three sitting in a circle and mumbling softly, as not to be overheard. Elfman was nearly certain that Ever was complaining about him or something, but only sat with his chair at the end of the picnic table, pretending to be oblivious. Mace kept wanting to talk about that dang 'treasure' so he got stuck listening to it.

Real man could suffer for their children!

It wasn't until dinner was nearing it's completion and Mira started explaining to Nate and Mace about how they both needed to go shower off and get dressed for bed, when the conversation about where everyone was sleeping came up again.

Or, rather, Mirajane had a thought come to her about the whole thing and began, in true fashion, to worry.

"Are you sure that you wanna sleep downstairs, Nate?" she asked. "I don't know when your aunt and uncle will be back and everyone else is upstairs. I don't-"

"I'll be downstairs, you know," Makarov complained. "They'll be fine."

"What are you doin' over there, demon?" Laxus grumbled from where he was with his bodyguards. "Huh? Causing me trouble?"

"No," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I just… What if someone broke in downstairs? And got the boys? I don't-"

"With a man like me around?" Elfman held up an arm and flexed, making Mace and Nate laugh. Pike just stared up at his mother though. "No way!"

"While I don't agree with that at all," Ever began, "he is sorta right."

"Just sorta?" Elfman dropped his arm, frowning over at her. "I'm completely right!"

"Yes, Mira," Freed insisted, glancing over there. "With all of us here, who could possibly-"

"With all of us upstairs, you mean."

"Demon," Laxus groaned.

"No." She shook her head. "I don't like it. I'll just sleep downstairs on the couch in the living room with them-"

"No!" Nate wasn't usually one to reject time with the woman, but it wasn't fair! He and Mace were gonna get to sleep in the living room all alone and stay up all nigh talking (they were only six and five, so that really just meant till nine) because they were grown. They were big boys. Literally. And Pike would be there too, but he was just a baby, so Nate wasn't too concerned with that. Just Mira not messing up his fun night. "You can't!"

"Nathan," Laxus sighed as she only blinked down at the boy in surprise. He was even glaring at her. Sorta. "You don't yell at her. You know that. Say sorry."

"No."

"Now."

"It's okay," Mira whispered. "I just want to keep you safe, Nathan. That's all."

Pike was between them as well as that bucket of seashells, but Nathan just shoved the bucket to the ground, causing the shells to spill and Pike to cry. The three year old didn't have long to worry about that though as, just as quickly, Nate was trying to shove him down too.

"Hey," Mira said as Nathan climbed over his brother to get to her. "Nathan-"

"I'm sorry," he told her as he tried to get into her lap. He was starting to get too old for that though. "I didn't mean to make you-"

"Nate, you just knocked over Pike's shells," Mirajane said as Laxus, with a groan, got to is feet before coming over. Ignoring the sobbing three-year-old, he only moved to snatch Nathan from Mirajane.

"Hey-"

"I warned you," the man grumbled simply as he hauled the boy off inside. "You've been bad all day"

"Laxus," Mira called after him. "Don't you spank- Pike, just give me a-"

He couldn't. Nathan had ruined his shells! And climbed over him. And bonked him in the head a bit when he was doing so. He wanted her to hold him and make it all better.

Mace was jumping up then as well as Elfman to help clean up the spilled shells for the little boy, though it did nothing to stop his sobbing. Mira had long changed back into regular clothes and he only buried his face in her shirt, having a good cry. Again. He was going through a phase where he could do it at least once a day. They were riding on far over that amount that day and, well, it was probably time for him to just go to bed.

"Pike." Laxus was back then. "Knock it off. You're fine. You're not a baby."

Mirajane glared over at him as the Master only groaned, standing as well, before going to take his great-grandson from his mother as the boy's father only came back out onto the deck, a scowl on his face.

"Where's Nathan?" she asked as Makarov quickly went to sit back down, Pike wrapped around him then. "Lax?"

"What do you mean where is he? He's inside. If he can't behave out here-"

"Laxus."

"No."

"He just got over excited. That's all."

"I don't care." Going to reclaim his spot with the very quiet Thunder Legion (minus Bickslow), Laxus didn't even look at her again. "The conversation is over. All of them are. So just eat your dinner and be quiet."

"Boy," Ever mumbled. "It didn't take long for this vacation to go south."

Not for Mace. After he and his father got all the shells scooped up, he readily hopped back to his feet and carried the pail over to where Makarov had the still whining toddler in his lap.

"Here, Pike," the boy said, setting the pail down on the bench next to them. "I got 'em all for you. Some got broke, but they still look real nice."

The little boy only sniffled before leaning away from his grandfather to peek into the bucket. Then, with a giggle, he reached out and patted his cousin on the head who giggled in return.

That calmed things down a little, but Mira and Laxus were both clearly done with one another for the night. They wouldn't look or speak to each other again. And, when Mirajane got up after ten minutes to undermine him and bring Nathan what was left of his dinner, the man ignored it, as if it didn't happen.

The only one that he made up with, in fact, was Pike, who, when he was finished eating came to bring the man some of his favorite shells and rocks to look at.

"Daddy." He climbed right up into his lap, nearly knocking Laxus' plate down. "See?"

"I see, bubba." Laxus felt a bit bad after snapping at the child for crying earlier and only leaned down to snuggle him. "They're really cool."

"P'etty."

"Pike, men don't say pretty," Elfman grumbled from over at the plate of burger patties where he was making another. "They say anything other than pretty."

Mace only giggled from where he was at the table, just picking at the remnants of his dinner. "I think they're pretty, Pike."

Nuzzling up to his father, the white hair child only moved to drop all of them into his father's open palms before shutting his eyes. Now that spending any real time with the demon was out considering they were not on speaking terms any longer, Laxus just asked, "You wanna sleep downstairs with your bubba and Mace? Or you wanna come to bed with me? Huh?"

Through a big yawn and bleary eyes, the boy only said, "G'amps."

"Gramps?" Laxus grumbled, glancing over at the man before frowning back down at his son. "What about him?"

"S'eep with G'amps."

"What? No. Pike-"

"He can sleep in my bed," Makarov offered up. "He-"

"No."

"Yes," Pike decided, tilting his head back to stare up at the man. "Daddy."

The sound of the backdoor opening again revealed Mirajane who was coming to tell Mace he needed to go grab a shower if he was finished with his dinner.

"No," Laxus was repeating about the same time. "You can't sleep in his bed."

"Whose bed?" Mira caught herself after she said that, remembering that she and Laxus weren't speaking, adding onto the end, "Freed?"

"Hmmm?" He was starting to feel awkward about then, still in his swimsuit, and was considering his plans for the rest of the night. With Bickslow out until possibly the next day and Laxus in a bad mood, he was left, really, with Ever who, per usual, didn't seem much up for fun. "Oh. Uh…Master. Pike wishes to sleep with Master and-"

"And he can," Makarov repeated as Mira only smiled over at him. "So stop arguing, Laxus. It's not every day that I get to spend so much time with him. Come here, Pike."

Done with his father and his lousy attitude, Pike snatched all his shells and rocks back before rushing back to his great-grandfather. He should have never left him, he figured.

"When you were a boy, Laxus," Makarov began as the man in question just groaned and looked off. "You used to beg to spend the night with me. And it would annoy Ivan so much, that you were so whiny about it, that he would just give in. I remember-"

"Shut up, Gramps." The day just wasn't going Laxus' way. Or at least the night wasn't. Shoving out of his chair, he just headed into the house, nearly running into Mace as the boy rushed in to get that shower taken care of. "Just shut up."

Inside, Laxus just went up to the room he and Mira were sharing and went to lay down. His night was done. He'd been conned into that trip by Mirajane, went to it just to make her happy, and now she was going to act that way towards him? Whatever. She could sleep on that dang couch. He didn't care. At all.

The night was over quickly from there for the others. Mira got all the boys bathed and into their nightclothes before, reluctantly, letting Mace and Nate set up shop in the living room. There was a knotted feeling in her stomach still about the whole thing, but it was still early at that point and everyone was milling around.

Except the Master and Pike. The little boy was practically asleep as she was bathing him and was out cold by the time she had him in his jammies. So after getting one of his stuffed animals for him to snuggle with, she went and dropped him off in Makarov's room, the man retiring to it not soon after.

Freed went into the study, seeing as it was unoccupied with the seith and Lisanna being out, and glanced through the novels and other reading material in it. There was another room along with the four bedroom upstairs, in the back of the long hallway, that served as a game room, with a billiards table and mostly liquor up there and, after cleaning up the mess from dinner, Mirajane and Elfman went to play a game.

"I think you were a bit tough on Laxus," her brother said as they set up the balls. "He was talking before we left to Ever about how happy he was that the two of you were gonna get some time alone on this trip."

"You taking up for Laxus?" Mira snorted as she shook her head at him. "I guess I should just go forgive him, huh? Since the apocalypse is upon us?"

Shaking his own head, Elfman just said, "Men like time with their ladies."

"Thanks, Elf. No, really."

"I just think," he mumbled, "that you're a bit much sometimes. The boys are fine downstairs. You worry too much."

Instead of arguing with her brother, Mira was able to hold her tongue before saying, "Let's just play pool, alright? It's over now anyways. He won. He's just going to be sore about it."

They stayed up there for awhile until Elfman heard Ever, who'd gone out to be by herself on the beach, head to bed at which time he followed.

Because that didn't spell disaster…

Freed was still up, in the study, but Mira didn't disturb him. Only checked in on Master and Pike first, who were knocked out, and then Nate and Mace who fell asleep atop their sleeping bags, having been playing with some of the former's toy cars when they conked out. The dog was in there with them, curled up between the two boys and, well, Mira decided to just give in and go to bed.

Laxus, apparently, had woken up at some point and was just laying there, on his back, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

He didn't glance at her as she entered.

Mira undressed in the dark before, slowly, going to get in bed. A problem popped up that they had anticipated before when they weren't fighting.

The bed was smaller than theirs. Much. Which meant, unfortunately, that the two of them couldn't just pretend to be oblivious to one another.

"Stop look at me."

"I'm not."

"Yes," Laxus grumbled, not moving an inch to accommodate her as he continued to lay on his back, "you are."

"You know that I sleep facing this way."

"So?"

"Laxus-"

"Just stop looking-"

"I'm going to the couch." She pushed up then. "Or the study. Or even to sleep in Freed's bed. I don't care. But I'm not staying in here with you when you're-"

"Why," he grumbled as he reached out to grab her arm, "would you even bring him up?"

To make him jealous. The only other guys in the house at the moment were her brother and grandfather-in-law. Freed, while unlikely, wasn't improbable.

Pulling away, Mirajane fell back into the bed. "Why does it matter? He's the only one with some free space in bed."

Laxus just glared at her. "Yeah, well, he's gonna keep that space."

With a huff, she settled out once more, still on her side, facing him. "Whatever, Laxus."

"Maybe I'll just go get in bed with Ever. Or Lisanna. You like that suggestion?"

"I don't care. You know why?" She gave him a blank stare. "Because I know nothing would happen. They're practically your sisters. In fact, they both technically are now. So go. Have fun."

Grumbling, he shifted then, to give her his back. "Just shut up, demon. Go to bed."

Oh, she wanted to. Only it was easier said than done. For some reason, she just couldn't drift off. And, when she heard Freed head up the stairs and into his room, she knew why.

Her babies were all alone downstairs.

With Master, fine, but basically alone.

She tossed and turned for over two hours, keeping Laxus up or waking him up the entire time. Finally he couldn't help the growl that escaped his lips.

"Damn it, Mira, what is wrong with you?"

"I just," she huffed as she buried her head in a pillow, "can't sleep."

"Then turn on a lamp and read a book or something. Count sheep. Something. Because this shifting and brushing up against me ain't working."

"I'm just worried about the boys."

"Demon," he groaned as he turned to face her. "What don't you get about us all being able to sense magic power? Huh? We'd know if someone was-"

"It doesn't have to be someone with magic," she pointed out. "It could be robbers or kidnappers or anything else."

Staring at her, he asked simply, "Is it going to be this way for the rest of the week? Because if it is, hell, I'll go share a bed with Freed."

She turned her head just to glare at him. "I'd feel better if Bickslow and Lisanna were home and down there."

Groaning, he started to get up.

"What are you-"

"Getting in bed with Freed."

"Laxus-"

"What do you think I'm doing, woman?" He was only in boxers, but considering they were in mixed company, went to dig a pair of sleep pants out of his duffle bag. "I'm going to sleep on the couch with the boys. It'll be cool if I do it. You know, since I'm a guy. They'll think of it as-"

"You don't have to go-"

"Yes," he grumbled. "I do."

"No. Lax, your back has been so tight recently and that couch-"

"If it's me or you," he said simply as he started to slip those pants on. "It's gonna be me."

"Dragon-"

"Shut up, woman," he grumbled. "And go to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

"No, you-"

"Mira, I'm doin' exactly what you want. Why are you-"

"I just-"

Suddenly, there was a yelling from another room, stopping both of them.

"God, Ever!" came a shout from, of course, the master bedroom. "You just love to pick and pick and-"

"Then get out, Elfman. I don't want you in here anyways!"

"Good! I don't wanna be!"

"Great. Then get out."

"I am!"

"Good! Go!"

There was a door opening before slamming and then a lot of grumbling and stomping, the latter which was headed down the stairs.

Then, after a minute of peace, Laxus slowly dropped his pants again and Mirajane fell back into bed.

"Do you think," Laxus mumbled as he slowly climbed back into bed with his wife, "that Ever planned that?"

"Honestly, I don't know why we didn't expect she would from the beginning."

Either way, it left someone asleep downstairs with the boys and, rather abruptly, put an end to their argument.

For a moment, the two of them just laid there, watching one another. Then, suddenly, something hit Laxus.

"Hey," he growled, eyes flaring. "Ever not only kicked him out of bed; she managed to get the biggest one all to herself! That little rat. Why did you make me give it to her? Huh? And now, tomorrow, I can't even go take it from her, order her to give it up, because all I'd be able to think about was how your damn brother had laid in that bed and-"

Mira was giggling then, softly, but just enough to catch him off guard and make him stop speaking. Then she was shifting closer (there wasn't much space between them to begin with) before burying her head in his chest to hide her laughter. It was brief, but it felt wonderful against his bare flesh.

"This," he whispered.

"Hmmm?" And oh, if that hum didn't feel heavenly. Even her breaths against his chest, though they tickled, relaxed him.

"This," Laxus sighed as she tilted her head up to stare at him, "is what I wanted this night to be like. All of these nights. We don't get this anymore. Not enough, anyways."

Breathing deeply, Mirajane just watched him as sleep finally crept into her mind. She wouldn't be up much longer.

"Let's get up early," she mumbled as she reached up to gently stroke his lip with a finger. For all the problems with a tiny bed, there were also some benefits. She was reminded of them as he snuggled her up close. "And go for a walk on the beach. Can we do that, dragon? Please? At least one of the days?"

"We can do it everyday, demon." Bowing his head, it was his turn to breathe softly against her head. "We can do whatever you want."

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[bsidethetrees]

Parenthood: Beach Retreat.6

"Now Erza," Makarov said as he stared into the communication lacrima. "You are a hundred percent certain that everything is going fine on your front?"

"A hundred percent," the swordswoman said as she craftily positioned herself in front of the crystal-like ball, as to not give him a clear view of the chaos going on behind her. "The guild is in tip top-"

"Master!" he heard a yell from somewhere behind the woman that sounded an awful lot like Happy. "Don't listen to her! She's a tyrant! Come-"

"Quiet, Happy," a more hushed voice of Natsu no doubt silenced the Exceed. "If you don't, she might punish us again."

Makarov blinked in surprise as, even with his shoddy hearing, he'd been able to depict what they were saying. Erza sent a glare over her shoulder before looking once more at the lacrima.

"I assure you, Master, that they are overly exaggerating," the woman said. "I merely have…dealt with the indolence that has taken over the guild as of late. That is all. If anything, you should thank me."

It took some more blinking before the man said slowly, "W-Well, I suppose-"

"In short, Master," Erza finished, "I am rather busy here. Things must be attended to. You have taken our main barmaid and, well, Lucy just isn't holding up in her place."

"I'm holding up just fine!" came the yell over Lucy from somewhere in the background.

"She's broke five pitchers the first day," came Happy's retort. "And you don't even wanna know how many beers she spilled-"

"Shut it, cat!"

"As I said, Master," Erza reiterated. "There is much to do. So if that's all-"

"Just," the old man said, "be careful not to do too much harm to the guildhall. Please. I don't know how many times the lot can bounce back."

"Underst-" A loud crash cut her off. "Lucy!"

"It was Happy's fault! He flew into me!"

"Na-ah. She walked into me!"

And then the lacrima went dead. Which, actually, was for the better, as there was a knocking at the old man's bedroom door then.

"Master," he heard Mirajane call out on the other side. "Are you napping?"

"No, my dear," he sighed as he moved to put the lacrima away. "You may come in. I was just speaking with Erza."

"Oh, really?" Swinging the door open then, Mira poked her head in. "And how are things then?"

"Well, considering."

"Considering?"

"That you and I are not there to keep everyone in line. Make sure things stay in order."

With a grin, the woman said simply, "Well, Erza had to get her feet wet eventually."

"Something tells me that this is the most wet they will be getting," he sighed. "Then again, I think we all knew that from the start, didn't we?"

"Hmmm?"

"I hear you and Laxus. Not to mention I've only raised the boy." With the lacrima back in his bag, the elderly man turned to face her. "He's always thought that I was handing the guild over to him. And you haven't helped things by furthering the idea."

"Well, you are, aren't you?"

Makarov didn't say. Only asked, "What was it that you needed then? Hmmm?"

"Nothing really," she said slowly. "Just to make sure you're up. Laxus and the other guys went out to train. I think Lisanna went along. Nate, Pike, and Mace are here though if you wanna help me watch them."

"I suppose I could," he said slowly. "I take it I missed breakfast?"

"Well, yes, but I saved you some, Master," she was quick to say. "Of course."

"Of course," he repeated as he slowly followed her out of the room. "I could have made my own breakfast-"

"Master, you don't even do that at home."

It was true. He didn't. Not anymore. On days that she worked up at the guild, she'd always drop by his house before going to the hall to open, so that she could make him something quick. And days that she was off, well, she still got up around sunrise typically, just to go over there and make sure he had something to eat. The same was true with lunch. And dinner. If she wasn't there to make or bring it to him, she made sure one of her siblings were.

The past few months hadn't been great for the man, if he was going to be honest with himself. Which, at the moment, he wasn't. At all.

"And? I could," he grumbled. "If I wanted."

Mirajane, used to the grumpy side the man had sprouted as of late, only hummed. "Of course, Master."

"I could."

"Of course."

"Treat me like I can't care for myself," he complained. "Who do you think you are?"

"I'm only trying to help."

"You're always only trying to help. Cut it out. I- Careful where you throw that, boy." His attention was shifted onto his grandchildren as, when he and Mirajane got to the living room, he was almost struck by a tennis ball that the boys were playing fetch with the dog with.

"Nathan," Mirajane complained at the sight. "You know better than to throw things in the house. And Ever, you're supposed to be watching them."

"I am watching them," she said from the couch where she was flipping through a magazine. "I'm just not disciplining them."

"This is your friend's house, you know, " the other woman pointed out, but Ever just waved her off.

"G'amps." Pike grinned over from his blocks at the sight of the man. "Play?"

"He's gotta eat breakfast first, baby," Mira said as, at the sight of the other two, Ever saw her opportunity to get out of there and took it. "Then you guys can play."

Pike didn't like this idea and got up to follow the man into the kitchen. Makarov was more than happy to take him while Nathan was more than glad to have him go. Mace was the only other one in the room vying for Mirajane's attention then (the dog had run off to go find that ball) and, well, that was just swell.

Nate felt like making it less of a treasure hunting day and more of a Mirajane day. She was pretty great, after all.

When she came over to him, he just led her right over to his toy cars (Mace was technically playing with those too, but they were actually his cars as Nate hadn't been too into sharing that day) and pulled her down.

"Here, Mommy." He shoved a car in her hand. "You can play with me. Use this car. Okay?"

Grinning, she leaned down to kiss his head before looking over at Mace.

"Did you get new cars?" she asked when she saw an unfamiliar one in his hand. With Nathan, that wouldn't have stood out as the boy had a high number of toy cars. Mace though only had a few (they weren't really his favorite; he just pretended for Nathan) and the bright yellow one in shi hand stood out to her. "Mace?"

"This one," he said, holding it up proudly. "Daddy got it for me when I asked. I like it."

"I do too," she giggled as Nathan only frowned.

"It's okay," the blonde haired boy said. "I guess."

"I think it's more than okay," Mira told her nephew who only giggled. "I think it's great."

Nate didn't agree, but he also didn't wanna start off their play by arguing with Mira. That wouldn't get him anywhere good.

"What do you boys wanna do today?" she asked as both of them got very interested in rolling their cars around on the carpet. "Just this? Or more treasure hunting?"

A day or two had passed and, while running around in pirate's beards had grown tired, searching for that dang treasure hadn't.

Yet. Mirajane figured that it was quickly becoming that way.

"I wanna play cars forever," Nate told her. Mace glanced up with wide, blue eyes at that. Mirajane only shook her head at him to let him know that there was no way that was happening.

For the rest of them, anyhow.

"Mmmm," Mirajane hummed. "I think I want to have a low energy day. Just sit around the house. Okay with you guys?"

Duh. Did Nate not just tell her that they'd be playing cars all day?

Mace though only nodded.

"I wanna build a fort," he told her. "A big fort. Make the whole house a fort!"

Through a chuckle, Mirajane said, "Maybe we can't go that far, but we'll definitely get a fort done today."

Well, they would. Because Laxus returned from the training session before the others, dragging an annoyed Lisanna along with him.

"What's this then?" Mirajane asked with a giggle as they showed up. She'd taken the boys out into the front yard to play tag and, at the sight of her husband, only smiled. "You getting too old, Lax? To keep up with the others? Had to come home early?"

"Ha ha," he said as Lisanna, having a long walk to terms with her fate, only took over with the children, allowing Laxus to grab Mirajane's arm and haul her off back towards the house. "You're so funny, demon."

"What are we doing?"

"We," he said as she took note of just how sweaty and nasty he was, "are going to go take a shower."

"Uh-huh. But why?"

"Because we're going out, demon. You? You could go out how you are right now. Me? Me, I couldn't. And as my wife, if I'm not ready, you're not ready."

"I don't remember that being in the vows."

"Late edition."

"Mmmmm."

"Come on then." He grinned at her, teeth showing through. "I feel like I need a good scrubbin'."

"You do know this isn't our house, right?"

And that got him to stop, just as they entered it. That wouldn't be a problem, really, had they had not been with all the others. Thinking, Laxus said, "We'll lock the door."

"Dragon. Don't be nasty."

Huffing, he dropped her hand. "Well what then, Mira? You expect me to clean myself by myself."

"Well, you are grown."

"Get ready, anyhow," he decided as he set out. "For a day out. With the Thunder God."

"Sounds fancy."

"Not nearly."

He was quick about it, his shower. And when he was finished, he headed to his and Mira's room to get ready.

She was waiting, seated on the edge of the bed while doing so. At the sight of him, she grinned.

"So," she prompted as he headed over to the dresser in the room, where he'd sat a bottle of cologne. "Where are we going? Exactly?"

"Places, demon. Many places. Wherever your weird, demonic heart desires."

"Can we go get ice cream?"

"Sure."

"And we don't have to bring the kids?" She was mostly shocked by that one. "Or anyone?"

"Nope."

"Really?"

"Got it all worked out, woman." Again, she got a toothy grin. "You should know by now that your dragon don't plan things and have them fall through."

"Of course I know. It's your greatest quality."

"That, Mira, would be you."

"Awe."

"Now come on." He went to go offer her his arm, which she took with a giggle. "We got a day to spend together."

This had not been run by Nate. Or Pike. Or Mace for that matter, but he was much more willing because, yeah, he loved Laxus and Mirajane to death, but Lisanna was good too. She was his aunt as well.

But Nate and Pike, well, Lisanna was okay, but she was no Mommy. Not to them anyways.

"No," Nathan said when his mother and father came back out off the house, both dressed then to go out. He was supposed to be running from Mace, who was it, but tag be damned, Laxus was not going to take his mother away. Not that day. Not any day. "You can't. Mommy, no! You were playing. You have to keep playing!"

"Nathan," Lisanna sighed from where she was trying to keep Pike blissfully unaware of what was going on (the boy had horrible separation anxiety). "I don't like it anymore than you do, but-"

"Nate," Mirajane sighed, separating from Laxus to go and gently pat the boy on the head. "You know I love you."

"Then stay."

"But I love Daddy too."

"Gross."

"Nathan-"

"The demon's coming with me, brat," Laxus growled, glaring over at the boy. "And you're gonna stay with Lisanna. Get over it."

"Laxus," Mira groaned as Pike finally started to catch onto what was going on. Without much thought, he plopped right down onto the front lawn and began to sob. "Oh, Pike."

"This," the slayer grumbled at the sight as Mace, left with far too many people to tag (they were everywhere), only stood there in indecision, "is why we should have just left by the backdoor."

"I wouldn't leave without telling them," Mira complained. "I mean, come on, Lax."

"Here, Pike." Going over to his youngest, Laxus lifted him into his arms. "You're gonna go inside, huh? I think I saw Gramps in the kitchen, making a snack. Do you like snacks?"

He liked his mother and father a lot better, but sure.

As Laxus went off to distract the boy with food, Mirajane got busy pretending to play tag with the boys again until he got back. Lisanna, who knew how her sister's children acted when their parents were away, was not looking forward to it in the slightest.

Nathan didn't like it any better either when Laxus came back without Pike and only went to whisk Mirajane away, off on their adventure. Poop. It was pure poop.

Mira didn't even like Laxus as much as she liked him. Of that, Nate was sure.

Still, she just gave him and Mace each a kiss to the head and promised to be home later.

"I'll bring you home a treat," she offered to which Laxus only grunted before patting both boys on the head.

"Behave for your aunt." Then he glanced at Lisanna. "Your other one, I mean. Give this one hell."

Of course.

"Shut up, Laxus," Lisanna complained as Mace giggled and Nate only glared at her.

Don't get the boy wrong; he loved his Aunt Lisanna. A whole bunch.

But did he like her? Heck no.

It was pretty mutual, actually.

As far as he was concerned.

"Let's go now." Mira even waved at the boys before going to grab her husband's arm and be the one dragging him off for once. "See you later. Be good."

But Nate didn't wanna be good. And he only stood there, fuming as he watched them walk down the road and off into the sunset to be happy and without him.

Bah!

At least his doggy loved him…wherever his doggy was.

Huh. Maybe he should look into that.

"Okay," Lisanna said after it was clear the pair was gone. "Boys, did you wanna get back to playing? Or did you wanna go inside and see what Master and Pike are up to? And maybe pawn you off on Evergreen?"

"We wanna play with you." Mace loved Lisanna. A whole lot. And, with a grin, he rushed over to hug her.

"Awe. That's so-"

"You're it!" And then, even though he loved her, Mace took off running as Nate, with a chance to show up Lisanna, did so as well.

"Ha ha." Nate got out of his funk just like that, giggling at the sight of his aunt glaring at them. "No one really loves you, Lisanna."

"Shut up, Nathan."

"No! And come catch me! Bet you can't!"

Ugh. How was it that she was the one without children, yet constantly got stuck watching children?

Honestly?

She felt like Freed or something.

Which was rather ironic, considering at the moment, he felt as if he was being forced into her role. Or at least the one she'd taken over from him. Namely, Freed was on Bickslow duty.

"Did you see? Did you see? Huh?"

And sometimes, that was just like watching young children. If not worse.

"Yes, Bickslow," the man sighed. "I saw you flip off the tree branch."

"It was perfect! Stuck the landing! Didn't I, babies?"

"Yes, Papa," they all cooed. "Yes!"

"Bickslow, please," Freed sighed. "I have tired of watching all your acrobatics. In fact, I tired of them ten years ago. So if you would-"

"Ha!" Elfman rushed over and, to Bickslow's surprise, lifted him up above his head. "You think flips are manly? This is manly!"

"Hey, put me down man," the seith growled. "I order you! Babies, atta- Ow! You guys are hitting me!"

"Watch it," Elfman grumbled as green lasers hit him in his sides. "I'm just proving my manliness!"

"No one was talking about manliness!"

"Ooh," Freed groaned as he only put a hand to his head. "Laxus, in your infinite wisdom, why did you leave me with the two of them?"

Uh, because he and his demon needed alone time. Duh.

There was no calming Elfman and Bickslow back down though. They'd waited all day for Laxus to get gone so that they could finally goof off. There was no amount of Freed's complaining that would put a stop to them.

Recognizing this, Freed easily ditched them and headed back for the house. There was not any part of him that wanted to deal with their tomfoolery. There had to be something at the house that would be better for him than that. Something productive.

"Count to…um…ten, okay? Then come look."

He found that something in the most childlike game ever.

Hide-and-seek.

"There is no way," Freed complained to Mace, "that you will have adequate time to hide by the time I reach that number. Why would you pick such a low time frame?"

Nate only blinked at him. "You're a whiner."

"I am not! I am only saying-"

"Freed, just count," Ever called from wherever she was in the house. "I'm tired of hearing you argue over the rules."

"I'm not arguing, I'm just-"

"Then I'll be it," Mace decided as they stood in one of the halls of the huge place. "So go hide. And don't get lost, Pike."

Oh, he wouldn't. He was gonna follow Nate everywhere he went, like usual.

You know, until the older boy yelled at him and told him to scram, that he was going to get them caught, which would only make his baby brother cry and ruin everything.

The usual.

Lisanna though had taken her leave and had gone down to the beach to spend some time by herself. Out there though, she found that she wasn't alone.

"Here you are," she sighed as she found Mirajane's mutt resting in the sand, panting slightly. "What have you been doing?"

Chasing birds, peeing on rocks, living life to the fullest.

With a giggling, the woman went to take a seat next to the old dog and rub his belly some. He liked that. A lot.

"You're so silly," she said as he wagged his tail some, but didn't move otherwise. Living life to the fullest sometimes meant taking a nice, long rest.

Maybe until the tide came back in and bothered him.

Or until Mirajane called for him to come inside for some food.

Either or.

Whichever happened first.

It was while she was out there, purposely avoiding going back into the house and being dragged into a game of hide-and-seek, that Bickslow showed back up.

"Lissy! What are you doing out here with that beast?"

"You can calm down," she said as he walked down the beach to join her. "He's too tired to bother the babies."

"Still. Memories linger."

"Mmmm. You stink."

"You can't even smell me yet."

"Yeah. Yet." Pointing as he came ever closer, she said, "Go rinse off in the ocean before you come over here."

"Lisanna-"

"It's the only way."

"But I'm in my gear!"

"Take it off."

He pushed up his visor. "Hey now, what exactly are you-"

"Down to your boxers, dummy."

"What if I'm not wear-"

"Bickslow."

"Fine," he groaned as he began first with shedding his cloak. "But I'll have you know that you don't always smell that great either."

"Offense."

"Truth."

Only once he was laying there in his skivvies, soaked to the bone and Mohawk looking a wreck did Lisanna allow him to sit with her.

"Mmmm. I think we should leave Fairy Tail."

"Oh yeah?" He didn't lift his head from where it was resting in the sand, the water causing it all to stick to his limbs. "And do what?"

"Bum it. Out on the beach."

"Babe, if you couldn't deal with my stench a minute ago, you try livin' on a beach for a few days and then come talk to me."

Frowning down at him, she asked, "Did you just call me babe?"

"That might have left my lips, yes. Or completely awesome ruler of my life. One or the other."

"Not sure how the two could be confused, but sure."

Opening his eyes then and turning his head to the side, he said, "I'd have to stock up first."

"On?"

"Hair gel. That stuff ain't cheap, babe."

"There you go again."

"I meant supreme ruler of the world."

"Uh-huh."

Grinning at her, he resisted to stick his tongue out, if only to avoid getting a mouth full of sand in it. "Leavin' Fairy Tail's a tad harsh though, yeah? And for such a worthless cause. I dunno… Maybe pretend to take jobs and actually be out there bummin' it instead?"

"Sounds like a plan."

"And go home to Mirajane and Laxus when we get tired of it and let them take care of us for a bit?"

"I assumed that was implied, so of course."

He snickered then as his babies took to resting in different spots. From in the sand, to on his back, and on Lisanna's lap, they had a lot to choose from.

"I still wanna find some fireworks, you know," he told her. "And your stupid brother won't let me play billiards without him and it ain't fair."

"Why's that a problem?"

"Because I can't beat him!"

"I don't think you understand what fairness is."

"And I think you don't understand how little I care."

For a minute they had a stare off and Lisanna had a flash of that past fear she had, when the two first began hanging out, back when they were just friends. She always worried that he might try to, like, take her over or something. It was part of the thrill, really, of staring into his eyes. Though it had died down a ton, it never really went away.

Because Bickslow was fun with her. He was playful. And sure, a lot of the time, when they were alone, they were a bit stoned, but he was still, at his core, downright brutal. She'd seen him in battle. He took no prisoners. Only souls.

"Fine," he groaned as he broke first, just for her. Looking off, he said, "I'll keep playing your brother and losing. If that's what you want."

"That's not exactly it, but I appreciate the effort."

"I try."

"I know."

Shutting his eyes and mouth once more, Bickslow thought for a moment or two before asking, "Did Laxus tell you what he and Mira would be doing today? I mean, it's still super early. What could they possibly do all day?"

"Why do you wanna talk about them? I mean, come on, surely our lives are more exciting than that," she insisted. "To spend it talking about my sister and her husband is just…odd. Right? I think. We used to talk about a lotta other stuff."

Kinda. He mostly just used to listen to her bitch about life and she'd pretend to be entertained by his views of the world. But if that counted, sure.

"We've grown up, Lissy," he told her. "We've changed."

"We have not changed."

"Have too."

"Have not."

"Grown stagnant."

"Gross."

"It's true."

"Is not."

"Just face it."

"I refuse."

"You don't get that option sometimes."

"Well, how do we reverse it then?"

"Mmmm…" Pushing up then, he stared over at her. "What's the most immature thing you could think of doing right now?"

She tilted her head up at the sky and thought. "Um…fighting incessantly over something stupid and then screaming that we hate each other, not talking for a week, and then having nonstop sex sounds like something we used to do."

"Lissy, I think you confused us with your brother and Ever."

"Oh yeah." Then she shrugged, looking back down at him. "Well, they're pretty immature on a regular basis and that's like their main shtick these days."

"Meh. It's not so immature now as it's just old and boring,," he pointed out. "Plus, I don't know if you know this, but going without you for a week kinda puts a damper on my whole mood."

"I thought you were the dark brooding knight anyhow?"

"Dark," he complained. "I have never said anything about brooding."

"Uh-huh."

"Anyhow, I just don't think that fits us."

"We could go crash Laxus and Mirajane's date," she offered. "I swear we used to do that all the time."

"Again, not us. That was Freed."

"Oh yeah."

"You just block out all of the things that we do together, kid, or-"

"Oh, I know." She shook her head in annoyance that she hadn't realized it before. "Duh. We used to just get drunk at the bar or your apartment and then sleep it off until you had a job or I had to work or even just blow those off."

"Mmmm." He nodded. "That totally sounds like us."

"And completely immature."

"Completely."

"Sometimes we'd smoke too."

"Yeah, you got me in major trouble with that from the boss a few times."

"And go camping. A lot."

"I think we were trying to find ourselves or some bull like us."

"No, I think we mostly just did it to piss my sister off."

"Again, that was you."

"Or, oh, I know, I could complain about Laxus and how much he's ruining my life-"

"And I could capitalize on it by getting tons and tons of sex out of it while hardly listening to you anyhow."

They grinned at one another then.

"That," Lisanna agreed. "Definitely sounds like the old us."

"The immature us."

"Which we're totally not now."

"Nope."

"I mean, now we divide our time between babysitting-"

"Totally not immature."

"-and searching for fireworks."

"Again, not immature."

"And fine, a lot of smoking and drinking-"

"But not so much that it impedes on normal life."

"No way."

"My body's getting too old for that."

"And it's not even worth it now that it doesn't freak Mirajane out."

"So it's settled then?"

"Yep."

Again, they just stared at one another.

"Uh, Lissy-"

"Hmmm?"

"What did we just settle on again?"

"W-Well…I guess to go out and drink and smoke and complain about life or something."

"And sex. Lots of sex."

"To get under my sister's skin."

"And bother Laxus."

"And…that sounds really dumb now."

Nodding, he slowly sunk back into the sand.

"I wasn't going to say it if you weren't."

"And a lot of work."

"Loads."

"Mmmm." With a loud, longing sigh, Lisanna said, "I think I like being mature."

"Refined."

"It has a nice feeling to it, doesn't it?"

"Less devious."

"Tons."

"And a lot less getting my ass chewed out by the boss."

"Mmmm."

"So," he started. "You cool with just laying around here for a bit and doing nothing?"

Giving the dog a pat, she said, "Definitely. I mean, what idiot suggested doing something else?"

"Have no idea."

"Completely asinine."

Again, silence fell over them, the sound of the waves and a few distant birds mingling in with the dog's snores, Bickslow's soft breathing, and Lisanna's humming which had hints of each of the five dolls own sounds as they tried to mimic her. It only lasted a few minutes though before Bickslow ventured to speak again.

"But we're still getting the fireworks eventually…right?"

"Of course."

"And…drinking? And smoking? Right?"

"Just not to crazy levels."

"Oh, right, duh."

"I mean, what do we look like? Mirajane and Laxus? Ancient?"

"Just wanted to be sure."

"The day we don't want to find fireworks and set them off for our own amusement is a day I don't want to meet."

Grinning, he finally let his tongue fall and got a good taste of that sand. Around it, he got out, "Me neither."

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