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spencesglasses · 4 years ago

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sweet creature (spencer reid x f! reader) pt 3

a/n: no spence in this part, sorry to disappoint you simps. but uhh, y/n and jj rights! but as besties <3

tw! there are mentions of sexual assault and a minor character death! please be aware before reading!!

part one | part four

“St. Augustine, Florida,” Penelope starts, showcasing the most recent case. “Two bodies were found early this evening in a remote wooded area just west of the city. Neither have been identified yet.”

“This woman’s complexion…” Tara said, looking at the pictures of a woman with various injuries on her face.

Y/N looked at the board beside Penelope. “… she was exsanguinated.” she hissed.

“Correct, my dearest, which is a really fun word to say, but I didn’t know its terrible meaning until I started working here.”

“Odd that the only female had her blood removed,” Rossi said across the round table.

“Well, the male victim might have been collateral damage or a witness that needed to be silenced.” JJ added.

“I mean, it is the kind of message that would be sent to each other. The Curiel Syndicate recently set up shop in Florida,”

“Except it looks like these two were meant without anyone the wiser. How is that a message?” Asked Rossi.

“Well, cartels have also been known to use murder as a form of voodoo.” Derek pointed out. “In 1989, a University of Texas student was murdered by a satanic gang while on spring break.”

Y/N leaned further into the table, reviewing the photos they were given. “My guess is that this has nothing to do with drugs. Maybe someone with a blood fetish-”

“Vampirism?” JJ asked.

Y/N hums in response, glancing at her for a brief moment.

“It’s late and we need to hit the ground running. Wheels up in 30.” Hotch said as he closed the file he held, gathering any necessary belongings for the case.

Without another word, the team mirrored his actions and followed him out. This was one of the first few cases she has worked on with the team without Spencer. She didn’t mind it, of course. The team welcomed her with open arms and treated her as if she had always been there, which she appreciated. She had gotten used to everything that came with the job, and grew closer to the team, but she wouldn’t be lying if she said that some things she sees still make her skin crawl.

Y/N looked out the window of the jet, admiring the contrast of the dark, star filled sky beneath the white clouds. She was seated with JJ, Hotch, and Morgan at the small table, the rest of the team claiming their spot to the seats to their right.

“The coroner attributed the lacerations on the bodies to animal bites.” Morgan said. “Apparently there are a lot of raccoons in that area.”

Y/N felt JJ nudge her slightly and brought her attention back to the file on her lap, flipping through the photos. “The media’s going on about satanic mutilation.”

“It’s happened before. The West Memphis three case showed how animal activity on a corpse can be mistaken for a ritualized torture.” Hotch noted.

“After the first bite, the insect infestation expands and distorts the open wounds,” Said Rossi.

Y/N heard Garcia groan over the laptop speaker, seeing her face scrunch up in disgust on the screen. “Ok, here’s my finger, here’s the mute button. Are you guys done talking about the critter damage?”

JJ and Y/N shared a look, and she smiled. “You can put your finger down, Pen, we’re done,”

“Thank you, and Y/N’s right; local news and radio outlets are going wild with this being a blood-worshipping cult murder.” she continues typing. “Hey, new information. Both of those bodies have just been identified, Cheyenne Pravato, 23 and George Henning, 71.”

The team leaned forward to inspect the photos of the recent victims popping up on the screen.

“Any connection?” asked Hotch.

“My level-one search says no, my level 2 through 20 await. Cheyenne was a waitress that is currently unemployed. Henning was a retired steelworker from Pennsylvania, lived in Florida a few years. They both went missing 3 days ago.”

“3 days?” Tara questioned. “Coroner estimated the time of death as less than 24 hours from the time of discovery?”

“Preliminary indicators show no sign of torture or sexual assault,” JJ said.

Y/N’s eyebrows knit together in thought, trying to piece together the information. “What was he doing with them?”

The team brought their attention to Hotch, and he said, “Dave, you find out what you can about Cheyenne from friends and family. Morgan, you do the same thing for Henning. JJ, I need you to rein in the media. And, Lewis, Y/L, you two go to the M.E.. Hysteria’s growing and we need to contain it.”

“Still waiting on the full tox screen for the male victim,” said the medical examiner.

“We think they may have been held for up to two days.” Tara said. “Were they fed?”

“Stomach contents were empty, but nutrition and hydration levels were normal. My guess is they were both fed through an I.V.” he said, lifting the fabric that covered the body. “I did find one curiosity,”

He uncovered the victim's calf, showing a mark on the skin with red rings around it. Y/N furrowed her brows, her eyes scanning the injured spot. “It looks like an animal bite?”

“Not under magnification. It’s actually a surgically precise triangle,”

She saw Tara’s face harden in the corner of her eye; she turned to her and they shared a questioning look. They heard the telephone ring from across the room, and the medical examiner was quick to answer it. Tara lifted the fabric once more, bending down to look closer at the injury.

“You’re positive of that?” Y/N heard him ask over the phone. The medical examiner hung up the phone, turning on his heel to face the two women. “The tox screen and DNA tests on George Henning just came back. You ready for this? Most of the blood in his body isn’t his…”

Y/N tilted her head. “Then whose…”

“It’s Cheyenne’s…”

Her whole body tensed at his words, and Tara’s jaw dropped in shock.

Y/N tapped her pencil against the table as she read over the tox screening. “The blood drained from Cheyenne was put into George Henning?” Morgan questioned, gesturing to the document in her hand.

She slid the paper across the table for him to read. “It is strange, a triangle was cut into his calf muscle too,”

“And there’s still something in the toxicology screen that the M.E. can’t identify.” Hotch said.

“Yeah, we’re hoping to find something more in the next few hours,”

Morgan slid back the report to her. She heard footsteps coming closer to the room they occupied and turned to see JJ walking in. She greeted her with a small wave and smile, to which she returned. JJ leaned against Y/N’s chair, resting her hand on the back of it. “So, it took a little arm-wrestling,” she starts. “But the media finally saw the wisdom in toning down the whole demon worship angle,”

“Don’t take a victory lap just yet,” Rossi said, Y/N handing her the tox report.

“You’re kidding,” JJ huffed.

Tara picked up the photos from the M.E., flipping them over for JJ to see. “Y/L and I are just trying to work out this whole calf muscle business,”

“Triangles are big in illuminati symbolism.” Rossi recounted.

Morgan let out a sharp exhale. “This is just bending back toward cult behavior.”

“What did you find out about George Henning?” Hotch asked him.

“According to the neighbors, the guy was a shut-in. No friends, a lot of health problems — hypertension, parkinson’s,”

“Cheyenne was the opposite,” Rossi interjected. “Vegan, into new age lifestyles. Never met a harmonic convergence she didn't want to converge on.”

“Well, I mean, I get it with him; he was a recluse, but how did nobody notice her missing for 3 days?”

“Her friends said that Cheyenne was flighty. It was not unusual for her to take off without notice for a week or two.”

“Transfusions and sustained I.V. feeding takes skill, planning and access to materials, and as crude as it was, the replacing of old blood with new is dialysis.” Hotch said. “ What if the triangle isn’t a symbol, but a tissue sample? Could this be medical experimentation?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve got a youthful, healthy host in Cheyenne and a sick test subject in Henning,”

“If the new missing girl’s his next victim, the unsub could be getting ready to try again,” JJ said, clutching the back of Y/N’s chair.

Y/N gave her a look of confusion. “New missing girl?”

“A missing persons report came in earlier today, Andrea Gambrell,” JJ explained. “Her car was found abandoned at a cemetery near Jacksonville. Cheyenne and Andrea waitressed at the same restaurant.”

“If Andrea mirrors Cheyenne, then who mirrors George?” Y/N asked.

“I guess that’s what we have to figure out.”

Y/N stood with JJ and Hotch looking over photos they’ve gathered throughout the case, trying to come up with a conclusion. She tapped her foot anxiously against the tile beneath her feet, her brows furrowing as she looked closely at the photos. The sound of Hotch’s phone ringing startled her, making her jump. She let out a deep breath and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. JJ took notice of a very flustered looking Y/N and placed a hand on her shoulder gently. “You okay there?”

She gave her a half-hearted smile, moving past her to stand next to Hotch. “‘m fine.”

“What do you have, Garcia?” he asked.

He asked her to search for doctors or any medical professionals in the area, anyone that could pop up as a red flag, and of course, Garcia was quick to find just what they needed. “Nothing on my crimson flag doctor search, but I did learn about something with a super cool name,” she said through the speaker. “The mad scientist club,”

JJ took a step, now standing beside Y/N. “And what is that?’ she asked.

“They’re a student group from the Florida College of Medicine in Jacksonville. Before the disbanded, they used to get together and talk about experimental ways to cure disease.”

“Do you have any names of the people in the club?” Y/N questioned.

“Uh, kinda, sorta, not really. They were totally informal. Here’s the part that made me sit up straight. They used to meet at a local cemetery,”

JJ scoffed. “Let me guess, the same cemetery where Andrea Gambrell disappeared.”

“Yeah! The very one!”

“Alright,” Hotch started. “Keep working on the names and see if you can find out what the club disbanded.”

“Okay,” Garcia said before hanging up.

Before the three of them could say another word, Y/N's own phone started ringing. She reached into her back pocket and held the phone up to her ear. “Agent Y/L,”

“Yes, agent, I’ve got the full tox screen of George Henning,” he said, Y/N bringing her phone from her ear so she could put it on speaker. “There were massive levels of massive levodopa in his system.”

“The parkinson's drug?”

“Correct,”

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek. “But the blood was replaced with Cheyenne’s. Does that mean the levodopa was introduced into his system after the transfusion?”

“Yes, ma’am. We got the results of the other DNA samples and the surprises keep coming. Found traces of mesoglea and testudinata keratin,”

“That is…” she urges him to continue.

“Jellyfish and turtle. George Henning had animal DNA in his system.” He said.

Y/N scrunched her nose, looking up to see JJ with her mouth slightly agape and Hotch with a deep frown. Y/N quickly says ‘thank you’ before hanging up. But before she could turn her phone off, a quiet ding! went off notifying her about a new message.

“Guys,” she alerted. “Another body was found.”

“You two check that out, see what you can find. I’ll brief the team on the tox screening.”

Y/N and JJ walked in silence, their shoulders bumping as they made their way to the site where the latest victim was found. “Okay so, a homeless man found him,” Y/N breaks the silence, lifting the police tape for her and JJ to go under. The officer close by handed them both gloves to search the area and a bag of belongings found on the victim. “We I.D.’d him as Harold McDermott, longtime local resident.”

“He didn’t even bother hiding the body this time.” JJ said. “The unsub might be unraveling,”

“He must’ve been the new George Henning.” Y/N muttered, crouching down and her eyes scanning the injuries the man ensued. “I don’t even want to think about what might be swimming around in his bloodstream.”

JJ crouched down to her level. “No obvious tissue removal, bruising on his face and chest.” she looked at Y/N, then to the bag in her hand. “What’s in there?”

Y/N eyebrows rose, following JJ’s gaze to the items in the clear bag. She stood up, opened the bag and it was a wallet. With a medical card. Ah, of course we’d find something like this in here, she thought. “It’s a medical I.D. card” she said, pulling it out for JJ to see. “Our victim suffered from epilepsy and cortico-basal degeneration…”

They tore their eyes away from the card, glancing up to each other. “We better deliver the profile.”

It’s been a few hours since they’ve delivered the profile to local authorities, and since then, they’ve gotten more information to help them solve the case. The M.E. had found more animal DNA in George Hennings body: sea urchin and some other type of tropical parrot neither of them could identify.

Penelope was able to locate one of the former members of the Mad Scientist Club, Diane Haller, and she was able to go in to talk to Tara; finding out that there was a man that could be a potential lead. Robert, or Richard, Diane couldn’t remember his name, but the club called him the magic man. He only went to the gathering a few times, according to Diane, and while he was there he would go on about how they were in a ‘magical place’. He attended the Florida College of Medicine in Jacksonville while the club was still active, his interest being in neuroscience.

A local doctor went missing, Laura Braga. She was a neurologist, which they believed was a connection to the unsub. Dr. Braga was heading back to her office to get files she’d forgotten when she discovered that the unsub broke into her office trying to get extra levodopa.

“Garcia compiled a list of every medical student in the North Florida area with the first name of Richard or Robert, and I got to tell you guys, it’s a long list.” Tara said as she stood to the side of a board filled with photo evidence and a map of the area.

“So which one is our magic man?” JJ asked.

Y/N sat in the chair next to her, facing the board. She spun her chair around to face the other way and noticed a peculiar look on Rossi’s face. “What is it, Rossi?”

“They identified the bird DNA in Henning as coming from a scarlet macaw,”

“Mmhm. And?”

“That got me thinking about Turritopsis Dohrni,”

“Turri… what?’ Tara questioned him.

“It’s called the immortal jellyfish,” he explains. “Endlessly recycles its own cells through a process called transdifferentiation, a kind of lineage reprogramming.”

“Oh, my goodness. Dr. Spencer Reid, master of disguise.” JJ joked.

Y/N quirked an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth rising slightly. “If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve assumed that you were the resident genius, Rossi,”

He let out a soft chuckle. “No disguise. I called the kid last night.”

“Ahh,” Y/N and JJ said in unison.

“But think about it, jellyfish, turtle, sea urchin, and now a scarlet macaw. What do they all have in common?”

“A long lifespan.” Tara answered.

“Exactly, longer than a human’s.”

“So that means the unsub may not be focused on a specific disease but longevity,” Said JJ.

“Oh, God. Guys,” Tara gasped. “I think I know why the magic man thought this place was so magical,” She uses the file in her hand to point at the map. “We are right around the corner from the legendary Fountain of Youth.”

A local zoo reported a macaw stolen, the owner suspecting it to be a former employee, Robert Boles, who they’d believed to be the unsub. He went to medical school and flunked out in the middle of his first year. They found key information linking him to the case when Penelope found that he currently worked at the same hospital as Dr. Braga. The team rushed to the location where Boles did his experiments on his victims.

“All right, so, in high school Robert Boles got a summer job at a gift shop near the Fountain of Youth archaeological park.” JJ explained. “He got fired for breaking in after hours.”

Y/N and JJ sat in the back seat of the car, leaving Morgan and Hotch in the front. “That’s probably where his obsession with eternal youth started.”

They trudged through the hallways of the abandoned building with their guns pointed forward, ready to shoot if needed. “And I won’t let you get in the way!” they heard a man shout from one of the rooms.

The team followed the sound of the voice and turns the corner to see two men standing over a young woman. The younger man they’d identified as Robert Boles, and the young woman being Andrea Gambrell, Y/N assumed.

“Robert Boles, drop the weapon.” Hotch said sternly.

He whipped his head around to them.

“It’s over, man. You’re not getting out.” Morgan steps closer to him.

“Put the knife down, slowly.” JJ said.

Y/N watches as Boles lifts his arms in surrender, opening his hand to drop the knife. Morgan hurried to cuff him, while JJ rushed to untie Andrea strapped to the hospital bed.

“My wife needs help!” The other man, Ben Kebler, tells Hotch urgently.

“Where is she?”

“In the next room!” Mr. Kebler rushed out.

“Show me.” Hotch said, following him, and Y/N followed along. “Call an ambulance,” he tells her.

“Medics are on their way,” Y/N said softly, entering the room Hotch and JJ were in and she stood between them.

She looked down to see Eileen Kebler in the hospital bed, her husband leaning over her her. And her heart breaks. Eileen was dying.

“How is she?” Ben Kebler asked, eyes brimming with tears.

The three of them stayed silent, Y/N unable to comprehend what's happening, let alone come up with words to say in that moment. Hotch peers down at him, and Ben knows. He frantically shakes his head, hand shaking as he grabs his wife's hand. “What have I done?!”

“I’m cold,” Eileen mutters.

His face scrunched up. “Eileen, stay with me!” he pleads.

“I am always with you…” she whispers. “Always…”

And she was gone. Sobs echoed throughout the empty building, and Y/N could feel her heart bursting out of her chest. Her eyes watered with tears, then suddenly she felt a hand interlock with hers. It was JJ’s. She squeezes her hand gently, JJ rubbing soothing circles along her knuckles. She let out a soft exhale and used her free hand to wipe away any tears, trying to regain her composure. This part of the job was something she could never get used to. Something the rest of the team couldn’t get used to, no matter how long they’ve worked there.

It was safe to say that Y/N was not a night owl. The team were on their way home and she laid on the couch in the jet with a small pillow and blanket that could barely cover her. She smiled to herself as the memory of her finding Spencer snuggled with a far too small blanket the morning after their first movie night. She still cringes at the fact that she accidentally fell asleep barely into the first few movies, but smiles when she remembers what she woke up to. Y/N thought it was sweet that he stayed there with her, and finding Spencer curled up in a messy bundle of blankets made her heart grow twice its size. She took a mental note to call Spencer when they land, and she finally lets her eyes flutter shut, finally being able to rest.

tag list: @eevee0722 @ceeellewrites

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds imagines #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader

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hlupdate · 4 years ago

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In a never-before-published 2012 interview, Harry Styles and Niall Horan talk about their childhoods, the future of One Direction, and much more

In the spring of 2012, I spent a few entertaining days hanging out with the five young members of a British boy band who were just breaking big in the United States. The guys from One Direction were unjaded, unguarded, totally charming, and a puppy pile of optimism and energy. On April 8th, in a New York City hotel room, an 18-year-old Harry Styles and 16-year-old Niall Horan sat down with me for a joint interview, published here for the first time. (The reporting was intended for a Rolling Stone cover story that never ran.)

It was late morning, and they had both just rolled out of bed. Styles wore a hotel bathrobe; Horan, with braces still on his teeth, was in sweatpants, a T-shirt, and a Dallas Mavericks hat a fan had given him during a recent trip to Texas. The conversation was casual, full of laughs, and focused on their formative years.

What did you do at the gym last night? Harry: One of our security guys, his friend’s over, he’s a personal trainer, so I was working with him, and he ripped me to shreds.

In 12 hours, you have to do Saturday Night Live. Are you ready? Harry: Yeah, I think so. I think it’s going to be a fun day. It’s just really exciting, obviously. The show is so huge. For us to get the opportunity to be on it at all was just amazing, and to us, to be performing and just be involved with the show is amazing.

Have you seen whole episodes of it? Harry: I’ve watched a lot of clips on YouTube. They don’t show it in the U.K.

Growing up, when did you realize you could sing or that you wanted to sing? Harry: I sang in primary school, like the school productions, plays and stuff.

What was your first one? Harry: The first one was…I was five, and there was a story about a mouse who lived in a church, and I was Barney, the mouse. I had to wear my sister’s tights, and a headband with ears on it, and I had to sing a song all by myself. I remember it was just like, whatever…in the second, I was Buzz Lightyear in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, so you know when they run and hide in the toy shop? Buzz Lightyear was in the toy shop, so they just created my character. The last one, I was in…you know Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat? I was the pharaoh, but I was an Elvis pharaoh.

Did you have a sense that this is what you wanted to do in your life? Harry: I think in school, I was OK, I wasn’t a bad student. I think I just knew I wanted to entertain people and stuff. I was a bit of an attention-seeker at school.

Niall: Me, too. I just talked too much, sang too much.

You were onstage as a kid and were like, “This is what I like”? Harry: I knew it was fun, I had a lot of fun doing it, and I stopped when I started high school, and then I didn’t really do anything, I just sang at home, in the shower, in your bedroom, that type of thing. I guess it started again when my friends were in a band and they wanted to do this battle of the bands competition that was at school, and they needed a singer, and one of my friends asked me.

What did you sing? Harry: We sang “Are You Gonna Be My Girl” by Jet, and “Summer of ’69.” We did it more towards the Bowling For Soup version.

How about you, Niall? Niall: I always knew I wanted to sing. I was academic…I was one of those people that if I’m not interested in something, I don’t really care. If I’m not interested in school, I would have never trained or done my homework or anything, I’d have just gone outside and played football or whatever.

Harry: [helpfully translating] Soccer.

Niall: So I always wanted to sing. I was singing here and there, not gigs or anything, but I always sang around the house or whatever, and I played Oliver in a school play. And then I just did that, and people told me I should do something…I was only 10, what could I do at 10? I just did a couple of gigs, and when I got to high school, they told me that I should just try out for The X-Factor.

Who told you? Niall: My French teacher. We used to do talent shows and stuff at school, she was like, “You should do it,” so I did it.

What did that entail? What were the steps from being a kid in high school to getting on the show? Niall: It was the final of The X-Factor the year before, and at the end credits of the final, it says, “If you want to apply for 2010, go online,” so a couple of weeks later, I said, “Right, I’m going to do it,” and I filled in the form online, we were sending emails back and forth, going to this place at this time. The first one is at a big stadium, then if you get through that, you come back the next day. Is that the way they did it with you?

Harry: I had to wait a little bit, I think.

Niall: I was there at five a.m., I got seen at 12, and I was out of there by quarter past 12, and the next day I came back at 10 in the morning. You get through the first round, then they do a round where they don’t tell you if you got through after that.

Harry: They film it.

Niall: The producer and someone from the label. They film it and show it to whoever. Then if you got through that, it takes about two or three weeks until you find out. I was in Spain. Then you just go through the audition.

Harry, how did you wind up on X-Factor? Harry: I basically said, the same as Niall, I was watching the year before, and I remember looking at the young guys on there, and I was kind of like, “I’d love to have a go at it just to see what happens,” and that was kind of it. My mum actually did the application, and then three weeks later, I walked upstairs and she said, “Oh, you’ve got your X-Factor audition Sunday,” and I was like, “OK.”

Niall: In England, it’s the biggest thing ever. It took a while to build.

Harry: The two or three years were steady, and third or fourth, it just blew up.

Niall: It works that one in three people in the UK watch it. There’s 60 million people in the UK, and 21 million people watched the final the year we were in it.

Harry, your band also played at least one wedding right? Harry: Yeah. We actually said that we’d do the wedding gig, and…

Niall: You get paid for it?

Harry: Yeah. 160 quid, between all four of us. 40 quid each…we said we’d do it, and then we found out it was the weekend coming up, and we hadn’t done anything for it, so we asked the bride what kind of stuff she wanted, and she said she didn’t mind, but she wanted some Bob Marley songs. Literally in three days, not even three, probably two days, we learned like 25 songs. We might have known like three of them before. I was 16, maybe 15, singing these Bob Marley songs. There was a girl a couple of years below us, and it was her mum, she said she wanted us to play.

Niall: Can you imagine you’re at a wedding and you have 16-year-old kids up on the stage?

Maybe you were really good! Harry: Yeah, the drummer is one of my best friends from school, he’s a sick drummer, he’s so good.

Did you think the band could be something? Harry: A bit. My friend’s mum was a radio presenter, and she did a radio show for a bit, so she was trying to sort us out a little bit of studio time, we were going to go in and record.

What do your parents do? Harry: My mum is a PA. My dad is a financial adviser.

How about you? Niall: My dad works at a supermarket, he’s the head manager, general manager of an area, not just one, and my mum is unemployed now, so I try to help them out whenever I can.

You probably can. That must be nice. Niall: Yeah, it’s nice, it’s good.

Plus, now you can tell them what to do. Harry: [laughs] “Now you go to bed.”

Were you happy as kids? Did you have adolescent angst and stuff? Did you go through depressed periods? Harry: Not really. I think at one point, I started acting like I was…I had a phase of listening to really heavy music.

Niall: I never went through that.

Harry: Not stupid heavy, but a bit… just because I thought it was cool.

Like what? Harry: Like Nirvana T-shirts, wore black all the time, pretty much.

Were you pretty happy go-lucky? Niall: Yeah, I was always happy. I think me and Harry were lucky. Our parents got divorced quite early, didn’t they, when we were really young. I was four, I didn’t know much, so I was always a happy kid, always up for a laugh, very carefree, and I’m a bit like that now.

Did you both grow up in your moms’ houses? Harry: Yeah.

Niall: I went between both, my mum moved to the country and I didn’t have any interest in it. I always felt like the country is for when you’re older. I was with my mom for a while but got bored, all my friends were in town, I went to school in town and all that stuff. It was more like that.

Harry: I lived with both parents, and then moved with my mum, and we owned a pub for like five years. I remember the first night, it was like a night where a band was playing, and I just thought, “How am I going to get to sleep?” I was three stories up, I was like, “How am I going to get to sleep with this noise?” I was next to a road in Sussex in the middle of nowhere, and by the end, I could fall asleep next to the band, I was so used to the noise.

Was it imprinting your brain? Harry: Maybe. One of the guys who used to play every so often, he used to be in Deep Purple or something… He started teaching me guitar when I was like 10, I think 10, maybe nine. I loved it. I was 10, 11, all of the regulars, I got on with them. I’d walk behind the bar and my head would barely go over the bar. It’s still going now. We sold it to my best friend, we go in all the time still.

People say you come off as more mature than your age, you come off wiser. Did hanging around all those people as a kid help you mature?

Harry: I don’t know, maybe. I moved when I was seven or eight from Cheshire, and it was still Cheshire, but half an hour away, but in terms of not driving and stuff, all my friends lived near my school, so that was a bit further out. One of my friends there was my sister’s age, he was 16 when I was 10. It was so tiny, they were the only teenage boys…we’d ride our bikes and go to the driving range and stuff. It was good, it was fun.

You both wanted to entertain – if it hadn’t worked out, would you have been really unhappy? Harry: Yeah, I think it would be kind of like…one of the reasons you go for X-Factor in the first place is that you want to do this, and it kind of helps you get out of the life that you were doing before. I worked in a bakery for two years. Obviously, I didn’t want to do that for ages!

If you’d asked people at school, would they have said, “Yeah, they’re probably going to be famous,” or would they never have guessed that? Niall: My aunt, I was in the back of her car. We used to go across Ireland to go to the beach for a couple of weeks, and I remember we were in the car, I was singing, and she thought I was the radio, and she told me, I never forgot it, that she thought I was going to be famous since I was six, seven. She was the only person who told me that, so I always remembered that.

Harry: My dad said it. I used to listen to a lot of the music he was playing, he’d play Elvis Presley to death, the Stones, I’d sing along to that and he’d say, “You’re going to be famous,” or whatever. He came on tour with us for a few days out here, he came to the Radio City show. He just said, for him, it was so educational. Obviously, he hears about what happens when I call him, but to see it and see it actually happen and how everything works was so good for him, he really enjoyed it. So that was nice.

So you grew up on Elvis and the Stones? Harry: Yeah, pretty much. My dad was a massive Stones fan, so it was pretty much Beatles and Stones in terms of what my dad played.

People say you kind of look like Mick.

Niall: He gets that a lot.

Harry: I get it more here, probably, than I do at home. It’s because of the British thing.

What have you learned about life from the last few years, what didn’t you know? What advice would you give yourself? Niall: How much more independent we actually are – me, anyway. Your mum attends to your every need and does your food and washing and gives you somewhere to live. Then you go into the real world, as you’re told as a kid…

Harry: We’re living on our own now.

Niall: We just started living on our own in the last six months, really.

Harry: I’m moving when I get back.

Niall: We do our own washing, we make our own food, we rent places, we’re out on our own now. You mature so quick, you’re dealing with big businessmen every day, you’re not dealing with school, people your own age. It’s a bit different.

Harry: You seem to learn so many life lessons, but in such a short space of time. If I speak to my friends and they’re having problems with girls, whatever it is, now I seem to just have the answer. I don’t know, it’s just different. Or I think I have the answer. In terms of…one of my friends was trying to decide what to do with school, stuff like that, and I would have had no idea what to say to him before.

The last two years must feel like 10. Harry: Yeah, but at the same time, it feels like six months, it’s weird. X-Factor was two years ago, but it seems like five years ago, but at the same time, it’s gone so quick. It’s a really strange dynamic of how it feels.

Do you have a sense of how this is going to go? Does it matter if it’s two years, five years or forever? Harry: I think how much we all enjoy it, because we love what we do – if you have to call it a job, it’s an incredible job to have, and we love it. We’ll all want to do it for as long as possible. If we have the opportunity to have a Take That kind of career, I don’t see any reason why we wouldn’t want to do that. If we don’t, I don’t know…we’ve done some amazing things already, but we don’t want to stop there, we want to keep going. I guess if we didn’t, I think we’d probably want to still be involved in…I’d just write, I guess.

Do you want to act? It feels like you could have your own TV show. Harry: I think it would be more of a documentary, because obviously, we’re not actors.

People must want you to try. Niall: Watch tonight, tell us what you think. Watch SNL.

Will you all make solo albums? Is that inevitable? Harry: No, I don’t think so.

Niall: Let’s do a swing album!

Harry: [laughs] We’ll all do swing albums. We’re just so focused on this, we all feel so lucky just to be part of this opportunity that we’ve all been given, it’s incredible, we’re just loving it. It’s sick.

People make a lot of assumptions about people in your position. They think you’re puppets and do what you’re told. What do you do when people make those assumptions? Harry: When you look from the outside, especially if you’re a skeptic of groups made through TV shows, which is fair enough, people don’t see what we do on a daily basis, people don’t see…I think from the outside, it looks so glamorous, they see us do TV performances every now and again, see us doing an interview every now and again, but they don’t know that we work seven days a week.

Niall: If there was eight days, we’d fit it in.

Harry: It’s not as completely glamorous all the time, of course it’s not, it would be stupid to think that it would be, but it’s hard work.

Niall: You’ve got to remember that you’ve got people on your team that have been doing this for many years and have been through the mill. You have all that experience around you, even from our tour manager, who’s been doing this for 20 years, they know what’s right, but at the same time, we want to have creative control, because at the end of the day, it’s us stepping out onto the stage of SNL tonight and have to sing these songs. We want to be singing what we enjoy, as we said last night. The music we all listen to is what we try and blend together to make this One Direction sound.

Harry: We obviously want to make it authentic and have our say without going, “People say we don’t control it, so we need to take control.” We’re not…we haven’t been writing songs for 20 years, we’re not producers. We’ve got an incredible team around us. Luckily, we’ve been given a lot of freedom, so we don’t go, “OK, we just need more and more control,” because we have a lot of control already. I think we find a really good balance in the way we work with our record label and our management, and it’s just how we work together, I think.

In any case, it’s probably better than the bakery. Harry: Yeah. But I don’t get a nice bun on my break anymore, that’s the thing.

Did you wear an apron? Harry: Oh yeah, I wore a white polo shirt and a maroon apron with white stripes. “What would you like? 78 pence, thank you very much.”

Were you behind the counter? Harry: Yeah, I was behind the counter. It was good. It was Saturday morning, I started at five and finished at four in the afternoon and got like 30 quid, it was a joke.

Niall, did you have a job? Niall: No, never.

So this is your first job. Niall: Yeah, not bad at all. I was chilling, I was being a kid.

Harry: I had a paper route before that. It gave me a bad back, bad posture. It was a heavy bag.

I interviewed some fans downstairs, and asked if they knew who you were six months ago, and they all said yes, and a year ago…They were all early adopters, heard you from the Internet, watched X Factor on YouTube… Harry: It’s the internet. People have friends over here that might tell their friends and look on YouTube and show their friends. It’s insane how it’s blown up. We’ve had the opportunity to come over to America and do shows, and release our music over here, which is amazing. Through the power of social media, we already had a bit of a following before we’d ever been over here, we hadn’t done any shows. We had some fans out here, which was amazing, but weird, really strange. I don’t know, it’s gone crazy. We don’t really see loads of it. We do the shows, then we’re in hotels, then we fly somewhere else. We don’t see massive amounts of it, we just go with it. This whole thing has gone on, and it’s sick.

Do you ever feel anxious through all this? Harry: Yeah, I think, obviously, just naturally, you think about what’s going to happen in the future. We’re 18, 19, 20 years old, we’re young. I wouldn’t say anxious, we’re just excited most of the time, and having so much fun, that if stuff were to finish and you were to look back on your time and all you did the whole time throughout this amazing stuff was shitting yourself about what’s going to happen next, then it would just be…I think you have to enjoy it while it’s going on. I think you should be wary about the future, but not worrying about it all the time. We still enjoy it and have fun, but obviously, you do think, “What am I going to be doing in 20 years, 30 year?” I’ll have kids by then.

Harry, I saw a tabloid with pictures of everyone smiling, and you were looking thoughtful. Do you get down sometimes? While everyone else is having fun, do you start drifting off? Harry: No, I think I’m naturally…not everyone is happy all of the time. I think you always have times when…like when you’ve just landed off a really long flight or miss home or something. They got a picture of me where I wasn’t smiling. I usually smile, but they got one where I wasn’t smiling and used that, and then said I wasn’t happy. They did that for a few days, that’s when we were in L.A. last time. It goes with the morbid voice.

Ringo would say, “It’s just me face.” Niall: “Who’s that little old man?” [quoting Hard Day’s Night]

Harry: “That’s Paul’s grandfather. He’s very clean.”

Sometimes you can drift off, that’s just your thing. Harry: [laughs] I’m just soulful, man, I try.

Harry, do you mind when you’re singled out for attention? Harry: I don’t know. I don’t really…I don’t know. We’re a band. Everything we do is together. I don’t take much notice of it.

So you’re not the Justin. Harry: No.

Niall: J.C. was popular, too, wasn’t he?

It’s not like that for you guys. Harry: Not at all.

There was an imbalance in that group. Harry: I think we find it important that people get to know all of our individual personalities, because…

Niall: I think that’s what’s good about it, people see us as individuals as well as a band, we all have our own personality, and we all give something to a band. Previous bands, they go around and can never explain themselves, they can explain the band, but as individuals, what we bring to the band and stuff…

Harry: We all know that we all have our roles, and we all know that without one of us, it wouldn’t work.

#harry styles #niall horan #one direction #230720 #1d ten

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poptod · 4 years ago

Text

Leeway (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: Sometimes, you just need to feed the person you accidentally embalmed alive a lot of vodka. A LOT.

Notes: so this is a tad strange and i thought it would be fun to write so hello this exists now and im not apologizing for it this time. i do love how easy it is to tell who learned english in cambridge and who learned english from a crazy american though. fluff and humor, gender neutral, only warning is getting sick from drinking too much Word Count: 2.5k

Despite the popularity of the Egyptian exhibit in the museum, there was really only one hallway and one room for it. A hallway filled with smaller artifacts, and in the center of it all, Ahkmenrah's tomb. What with being the only ancient Egyptian in the whole of the museum, he was rather lonely – that made up one of the reasons for the new exhibit, but the main reason was a money grab.

Now, the new exhibit wasn't nearly as royal as Ahk's room. No massive guards, no rooms catered specifically to it, no hieroglyphs surrounding it. In fact it was the tomb of a servant – that's what historians categorized you as after seeing your wooden sarcophagus and the poor wrappings of your mummification. There was nothing but you in your tomb; no dolls, no artifacts, not even any pottery offerings. Ahkmenrah didn't know any of this, though – no, he was just excited to have someone who came from the same era. His thrill stemmed mainly from his fear of forgetting how to speak Egyptian. With you on your way, he could rid of that fear.

He was told of your exhibit about a day before you arrived, and throughout the whole of the waking night he thought of you. Who could you be? Maybe your times were a thousand years apart; Egypt did have a rather long rule, after all. There was also the chance you were from exactly his time, and part of him hoped that was to be.

The next evening he awoke giddy, a grin on his face from the moment he opened his eyes. A few minutes and Larry came to help him out, stripping off the remaining linen before standing tall, gold falling from his body as silk.

"Is the new exhibit here?" He asked immediately, eager to meet you.

"Yeah, this way," Larry said, guiding Ahk out of his room with a chuckle.

A bundle of nerves began to ache in his chest, begging him to hurry his step. He tried his best to keep calm, soon standing in front of an open archway, leading into a room filled with the broken down, dusty artifacts of his previous daily life. Shabti dolls came to life in glass cages, and beside all the shields and various weapons lay a rotted, wooden coffin. At the sight he frowned – there were no inscriptions on the coffin, not even a hint that they might've once been there. Without those inscriptions it was terribly hard to navigate the afterlife, but that wasn't his main problem at the moment.

The biggest issue was that you were rattling against the wood, moaning weakly from your first wake of the dead. Your coffin sat in a large, glass box, and as both Ahk and Larry realized that, Larry dug into his pocket for keys to open the box.

The moment the glass door opened, Ahk crammed himself inside, careful not to step on the bits of pottery as he knelt at your side. Gently he raised the lid, helping you sit up. Together you worked out of your wrappings, which fell to the bottom of the coffin, before the last of it came off, revealing your face.

"Wait a -"

"You!" You shouted, brows furrowed in a rage both Larry and Ahk rarely saw. Jabbing him in the chest with your finger, you glared him out of the box, following him as you stumbled onto the linoleum floor. "You're the guy who killed me!"

"Wait, what?" Larry said, his tone suddenly serious.

"I did not kill -"

"You fucking buried me alive, you son of a bitch! Do you know how painful it is to have all your organs removed for a damned embalming?!" You yelled as your face grew red, filled with the pressure of your anger.

"Okay, wait, wait –" Larry stood inbetween you two, but your eyes never left Ahk's rather terrified face. "First thing's first. How do you know English?"

"You think you guys get to be the first people insane enough to bring me to life? I lived in a sorcerer's home for ten years and he treated me better than you ever did," you said, aiming your venom at Ahk. Again. "I felt safer with him and he took off my arm and resewed it back on!"

"In my defense, I didn't know you were alive, alright?" Ahk tried defending himself, but you wouldn't hear it.

"You fucked up big time, buddy," you seethed, shoving your face right up against Ahk's. "I wasn't the goddamn murderer. The other one was."

"Oh. Oh, no," he said as the color drained from his face. "Shit, you were innocent?"

"Okay can someone tell me what the hell is going on here?!" Larry finally interjected, gaining both of your attentions.

"There was this, um, incident, while I was a prince," Ahk began, reluctant to tell. "A few murders had happened in the city, so the soldiers tracked down who they believed the murderer to be, but they were fighting with someone. Like, really bad. I was with them and there was quite a lot of blood."

"I would've won, too, if you let me," you grumbled bitterly.

"One of them claimed to be a famous poet, and the other one was unemployed. Obviously the murderer, but we couldn't tell the difference between the two," he continued, ignoring your remark. "There was this whole trial to figure out who was who. What – what was your penname again?"

"Siamun," you said.

"Right. Unfortunately, I guess we got the wrong one," he said rather blankly, regret plain on his face.

"And then he threw a spear at my chest, proclaimed me dead despite the fact that I was still breathing, and then they tore out all my goddamn organs," you finished for him, telling 'Larry' the rest of the story Ahk hesitated to mention.

"It wasn't a spear," Ahk said as though it mattered.

"Knife. Sharp pointy thing. I'm still pissed at you," you said, crossing your arms with great force.

Larry looked between the two of you for a moment before speaking.

"I think I know how to make you feel better," he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and leading you out of the room.

"I highly doubt that," you said quietly, sending one last seething glare over your shoulder at Ahk before you turned the corner, leaving him alone.

He almost cried – he rarely did, but this time was close. All that excitement for nothing. There was no way you'd be able to hold a conversation with him, which was fair, considering he didn't think he could hold a conversation with someone he wronged so deeply. The worst part was that he was quite the fan of your work, and it had been a long, long time since he'd been able to read or hear your words.

About an hour later he dragged himself to his feet with a weary sigh, slowly shuffling into the main room, where he could already hear music and the shouts of dancers and soccer players (for some reason). At the balcony he overlooked the whole of the crowd, eyes scanning over the jumping crowd till he found you sitting with Larry at the center globe. You had a bottle of some sort in hand, and from what he could tell, you were incredibly intoxicated. A new, sick hope sprouted in his head – maybe you'd be able to tolerate him while drunk. Strange thought, certainly, but not entirely improbable.

So, with that in mind, he headed down the steps, his cape floating down with him till he reached the crowd. Worming through the people, he made his way to stand on the other side of the help center desk.

"What did you do?" Ahk asked Larry, gesturing to you sitting on the office chair, spinning as fast as you could.

"I thought they could use some loosening up," Larry answered with a shrug. Ahk frowned.

"That's... what did you give them?"

"Hmm? Oh, just some vodka the previous night guards stored in Rexy's mouth," he said, nodding pleasantly.

"Isn't vodka ten times more powerful than our beer?"

"I hadn't really thought of that," Larry said with his hands on his hips, looking to you for a moment before returning to Ahk.

Once you stopped propelling yourself, your chair stopped spinning, and your smile quickly dissipated into a pale face as sickness overcame you. With lopsided eyes you tried standing, balancing the bulk of your weight on the desk. You gagged on your own tongue.

"That's no good," Ahk muttered under his breath, circling the desk till he stood beside you, wrapping an arm over your shoulder. "I'll take them to the bathroom."

"I think I'm going to throw up," you slurred, leaning into Ahk.

"Thought so. Let's hurry now," he said as he took you through the crowd, feeling thankful that the bathrooms weren't a floor above you. No, they were just to the side, and soon he was holding your hair as you hurled into the porcelain toilet.

You shivered despite the room being warm, and Ahk recognized it as tremors brought about by pain. He winced when you gagged, nothing but acid coming out as you moaned, white knuckles trying to find purchase on the tile floor.

"You.. what's your name?" You asked weakly, your voice rough from acid staining the back of your throat.

"... Naguib," he said after a moment of thought. He wasn't sure if you would remember his name, but he preferred to stay safe, and took his servant's name.

"You're being.. thank you," you mumbled, immediately gagging again afterwards. Nothing came out.

"Of course," he said softly, moving his hands to rub at your tense shoulders. You hummed, unable to move from your spot without feeling intensely sick.

"You're from Egypt, too, aren't you?" You said, tilting your head onto your arm to meet his eye.

"Yes," he confirmed. "Same time period."

"God, I miss it sometimes. Don't you?" You whispered, barely able to find the energy to keep speaking.

"It can get very lonely. That's why I'm glad you're here," he said with a small smile, making you close your eyes and offer your own soft, barely-there smile. "Do you mind speaking Egyptian with me?"

"Sure," you answered in the language he'd been longing to hear from a mouth other than his own.

"So... what was life like for you back then?" He asked despite knowing of most of your exploits (and accidentally being part of the final one. Death.).

"I was a scribe, didn't work for the King though. Didn't really want to. I liked his son, though. Nice guy except for when he stabbed me," you grumbled, your eyes half lidded. He flinched at your last words.

"What did you write of?"

"The world," you said with a weak smirk. "Poetry. Lots of it."

"Really?" He said, keeping his voice soft to soothe you. "Could you share some?"

"Maybe if I remember what I wrote," you replied with a snort. "Been a whole fuckin' while since then."

Wow, you swear a lot, Ahk found himself thinking blankly, watching you tremble and try to keep yourself even.

"What about the prince?" Ahk asked after a long silence, his words barely there.

"Gods.. um... well, very kind. Got a bit of a stick up his ass, but damn, he was handsome. Pretty scary too, but don't tell him. Any of this," you slurred, once more readying yourself to hurl into the bowl. Ahk quickly moved his hands from your back to your hair, keeping it out of your eyes as you gagged, acid and vodka dripping off your tongue.

Even with you having a rather unpleasant time in the bathroom stall, Ahk felt rather good. You liked him – at least you did at one point, and for him, that meant there was a chance you could forgive him. Yes, embalming you alive was probably not the greatest thing he could've done, but you seemed forgiving enough. With anger formidable and forgiveness imminent, he almost smiled. Almost. And then you hurled again.

In the last hours of the night you started to get better. You could stand with help from Ahk (though you much preferred lying down), and your wits were a little more about you, words still slurred but not quite as unhinged. A few hours previously you stopped throwing up, and Ahk moved you from the bathrooms to McPhee's office. He had a nice couch in there, and Ahk doubted he would mind, considering how McPhee practically revered the living exhibits.

"Feeling better?" He asked, knelt beside you on the cushioned velvet couch.

"A little," you hummed, your voice cracking as you looked to him with tired, baggy eyes.

"We'll have to get you back to your coffin soon. I'll have to go to mine too," he said, stroking your hair. You blinked slowly.

"Why?"

"I'll tell you when you're a bit more coherent," he said with a smile. The edges of your lips turned up, but you were far too weak to form a full smile.

A few minutes later Ahk heard a knock on the closed door, and he excused himself from you with a gentle kiss on your forehead. Opening up the door an inch, he slipped through the gap, coming face to face with Larry.

"They doin' okay?" He asked, hands on his hips.

"Will be, eventually. Don't give them vodka. Ever," Ahk said, earning a hurried agreement.

"Yeah, no, definitely. What's up between you guys though?" He asked with vague hand signals gesturing between the two of them. "Like, you friends? Enemies? I can't tell."

"Currently my name is Naguib and I'm a servant."

"Oh, so not good."

"I didn't say that," Ahk said with a frown. "I asked them about 'the prince' and they actually had a pretty high opinion of me, all things considered, so that's good."

"Honestly I find it hard to believe you actually stabbed them. You don't come across as.. murderous," Larry said, a questioning look on his face.

"You've clearly never seen me watch TV," Ahk said flatly. "I'm a Pharaoh. I'm not sure what you were expecting, but my brother tried to kill me five times and I lost my best friend to banishment. I think I'm allowed a little leeway."

"Yeah, I guess so," Larry said with a sigh, forgetting they were genuinely discussing murder. Murder. "Ready to get them back in the coffin?"

"Right."

The two of them helped you back into your casket, a task that was made infinitely easier by the fact that you passed out while they were conversing. Before placing the wooden lid back on, Ahk leaned in, kissing your forehead one more time. Only then did he reluctantly crawl out of the glass cage, watching Larry lock you up.

"Why do you like them so much?"

"Eh," Ahk shrugged, "they're prolific when they aren't drunk."

"Fair enough."

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader

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what-the--curtains · 4 years ago

Text

Alliance

Chapter 6 – The Extraction

(Mando x f!reader)

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Summary: The auction leads you to the child but the empire’s hot on your tail. With all hope lost you make a choice.

Notes: None (feel free to interact im unemployed and bored)!!!

Tw: (very brief) mentions of drugs/sex/alcohol/addiction, swearing

Words: 3.9 k

Tagged: @crazycookiecrumbles

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You walk through the damp street, you don’t know what this dress is made of but the dirt and grime caused by the recent rain seemed to simply bounce off it. The streets were jam-packed, somehow even busier than they were the night prior and as the two of you make your way towards the auction hall Din’s visor scans the crowd, making sure nothing seems out of place. He takes care to never be more than a few inches away from you, convincing himself it's in order to maintain appearances. After all he knew you were more than capable of handling yourself, and why else would he feel the need to be so close to you.

“You lost beautiful?” A youthful looking Falleen asks as she appears out of the shadows

“No.” Din replies, making himself visible at your side when she moves into the light.

“Well I’m sure you're very beautiful under that armour Mando, but I was talking to your friend here.The names Isi and I make a living helping people around the city” Din’s about to respond again when you interject.

“Actually Isi we do seem to have gotten ourselves a bit lost, we're here for the auction.”

“I’ve heard of it,” she says, staring down at her manicure. You look up at Din motioning for him to pay her which he does begrudgingly. Taking the credits she leads you through the city, stopping outside a building covered completely in reflective mirrors.

“Best of luck” Isi, says offering you her hand

“Thank you, for your discretion” taking it you slide her a few more credits and she leans back against the wall of the building watching as the two of you enter. Two men in tailored suits open the inner doors granting you access to a small closed off foyer, also covered in the one way glass. You hand your invitation to the man on the right, parting your lips ever so slightly and gaze up at him batting your eyelids ever so slightly. In your experience a touch of flirting went a long way, especially when it came to moving through security.

He smiles and looks from you, up to the Mandalorian then back down. Turning his head to look at his partner he chuckles slightly.

“He your boyfriend, or something?”

“Bodyguard” you emphasize.

“Makes sense” he murmurs loud enough for the two of you to hear.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” the modulated voice asks obviously aggravated.

“Never mind him, he’s just sensitive about the... you know ” you mime the outline of a helmet. The guard nods and lets you pass through placing his hand on the small of your back as you do causing you to cringe internally. Nothing worse than a stranger's hand where you didn’t want it. You glare back at the Mandalorian hoping your eyes would convey a message of ‘be cool’. A task he was about to accomplish when the second guard places a firm hand on his arm.“Leave the blaster Mando, there’s no weapons allowed.”

“He has no weapons” you interject, de-escalating the scene that was about to play out caused by the tremendous amount of male energy that was currently taking up the entire room.

“You’re right sorry ma’am, enjoy your evening” he says letting go of the Mandalorians arm allowing him to pass.

“Way to keep your cool, let’s try and get through the night without creating a scene” you say, slightly annoyed by whatever the hell he thought that display was going to achieve. Your anger disappears as you turn to an enormous room filled with people dressed to the nines in the finest the galaxy had to offer. Chandeliers dripping in diamonds hung down from the high ceilings illuminating the room like a sky full of stars and casting a rose gold hue across the occupants moving about the ballroom floor which seemed to sparkle underneath the high heels.

Servers moved seamlessly throughout the crowd; they were all dressed in lavish costumes, depicting various fashions from across space and time. The trays they carry are filled with multicolor foods and gem-coloured drinks. You’d never seen anything so opulent in your entire life. You’d noticed that servers would pair off with guests and disappear returning later with a look that could only be chalked up to exceptional sex or spice, both of which resulted in a similar glazed over and dewy look. A Darthomorian in a low cut red dress approaches you offering you a drink, you smile and thank them.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” The modulator speaks up, as you bring the drink to your lips.

“Why? I might as well enjoy the lifestyles of the rich and dangerous while I’m here” you snap, apparently you were still upset at him.

“It has love wallop in it, makes the drinker more suggestible to certain propositions usually sent over by someone who wants to.” His voice trails off.

“Ew” you say pulling a face before dumping it in a nearby plant. “Guess I’m safer going to the bar.” You swirl your new, drug free, drink around and rest your elbows down on a nearby table, hoping the auction would begin shortly.

“How did you know what was in that drink.” You ask in an attempt to help pass the time.

“They show up at these kinds of things, so does spice and other illegal substances.”

“Once again how do you know about this? You spent a lot of time around illegal substances? I didn’t think it would be your scene.” you say taking a sip of the ruby coloured drink you had ordered.

“I’ve brought a lot of dealers over the years. It also crossed my path in my...” He pauses before continuing reluctantly “ wilder days.”

“Wilder days hey? Love to hear about those sometimes. You sample the product?” you probe, he gives you an unmistakable look of disappointment “Maybe you should, might help chill you out a bit.” You joke.

“That would go against my creed and fundamental belief system. Spice is...”

“Highly addictive, ya I know , it was a joke.” You say shaking your head, why did he have to be so high and mighty all the time.

“You’ve had it?” he seems surprised by this news, you hoped it wouldn’t change his opinion of you, the two of you had been getting on pretty well of late and you’d hate to jeopardize that.

“You gonna arrest me?” you joke nervously, hoping he didn’t notice how much his response mattered to you.

“No, just… how the hell did you stop? Are you okay to even be here, it's everywhere” was it disappointment or concern you picked up in his voice, you couldn’t quite discern between the two.

“I’ll be fine just tell me if it’s in anything I’m about to put into my body. And knock me out if you see me going for it” Diverting from the conversation you lift up a piece of food and show it to the Mandalorian who lets you know it’s safe to eat.

“Holy shit this is good!” you exclaim, looking around for where the waitress had gone

“Can you feel him?.” Din asks drawing your attention back to the reason why you were here in the first place.

“Too many people, I’ve already disrupted the force once I don’t want to do it again so quickly someone might notice. We’ll have to wait for the first item and follow whoever brings it out.” Just then a woman in a slinky red dress appears with some kind of an egg on a pillow and steps up onto the stage where an Ishi Tib drones out the rules and regulations for bidding.

“Is that an Kadri’Ra egg.” you ask in amazement.

“Looks like it”

“I thought they were extinct” you say still in awe

“Guess not” he replies, his shortness had become increasingly apparent over the course of the evening.

“We’ll get the kid soon, don’t worry, he has to be here.” You reassure, looking up at him causing him to look away. As the woman passes back through the crowd the two of you turn in tandem and follow her until you reach the back of the room. You stop and place your back against the wall, craning your neck you look to see which hallway the woman had disappeared down. You turn back quickly as another woman in similar garb appears out the largest of the hallways, carrying a cape made from an ice dragon pelt. As she moves towards the stage the two of you enter where she had exited. You move through the wide hallway until you reach the end, where a large metal door prevents you from moving any further.

“Should have about 15 minutes before the next one comes out.” You say stopping a few feet from the door. “you think anyone’s in...” you're almost done your sentence when you hear footsteps approaching from behind you.

Before you can make sense of what's happening the Mandalorian has pulled you into a thin hallway off shoot by the nook of your elbow. You’re now face to face with his chest and suddenly very aware of how tall he was.

“Where’s the other half of the item, seriously were two in and I’m looking like a fool up there!” an Arkanian, who you assume must be the collector and the host of the party, exclaims. You see them do a double take to where you're currently hiding, and watch as they begin to move towards the hallway.

“Can you pick me up?” you whisper urgently,

“Yes, but…”

“do it now” he complies with your order, as he does you wrap your legs around the armour covering his hips and prop your back against the wall, draping your arms loosely over his shoulders before burying your head in the part of his neck bare from armour, hoping that the compromising position would be enough to deter the collector rom asking any question. Out of the corner of your eye you watch as the presenter takes note of the two of you. Raising their eyebrows they turn and move back to the door.

“Yes that’s it, get it out there now so the bidding can begin, gods it’s hard to find good help these days.” they exclaim turning and following behind the presenter with the newly acquired artifact. You let out a sigh of relief removing your face from his neck quickly realizing that your nose is just millimetres away from his helmet.

“You can put me down now” you whisper breathlessly, for a reason you couldn’t quite explain. You take note of the slight hesitation that precedes him dropping you. Gathering yourself you exit the hallway and reposition yourself in front of the large metal door. You can’t see a panel on it or a key slot, it must only be accessible from the inside looking up, you spot a window.

“Give me a boost” you say, and he obliges. You lift the hem of your outfit and step onto his interlocked hands which he uses to push you up enabling you to reach the ledge. Pulling yourself up you roll through the window and drop down onto the rooms floor alerting the person in charge of handing out the auction items. You knock him out and swipe his key card using it to open the door for Din.

“This way” you say, dragging the handler's body over to a nearby post and tying him to it. Standing up you turn to see hundreds of items up for auction varying from Millaflower to a juvenile varactyl.

“Do you see him?” you ask, picking up a vial of what you recognized as death stick placing it back down when you hear him respond.

“No” you think you hear his voice break. “Wait.” he says, walking up to another, smaller closed off room placing a gloved hand on the door. He draws his blaster aiming for the lock. You lower his hand hoping to prevent a beam bouncing around the room subsequently giving you away. You lift up the key card you’d swiped from the guy in the room and use it to open up the door. He moves towards the oval container floating in the middle of the room and drops down to one knee as you watch tentatively from the door. Pushing a button the oval opens up and a tiny green three fingered hand reaches up for him. You hear a slight gurgle as the second hand comes up making a grabbing motion. Din picks up what has to be the most adorable creature you’ve ever seen.

“Told you I’d get you back didn’t I” he chuckles, you can hear the smile in voice as he hands the kid the small silver ball. You approach cautiously until you're standing beside him.

“Well fair enough I get why you traded me in for him” you say offering the child your finger which he grabs happily, looking up at you.

“ You two know each other or something?” He asks, his helmet staring up at you.

“Must be a force thing” you say, smiling down at the little critter.

“We have to go” you say, closing the egg hoping it would buy enough time to make a swift exit. With the child wrapped neatly under his arm the two of you move swiftly through the back alleys in darkness.

“Well that went better than I…” almost as if on cue, your speech is interrupted by the sound of blasters ricocheting off the ship's metal exterior. He hands you the child and rushes up to the cockpit to prepare for take-off.

“Brace yourself” he shouts down and you grab onto the overhanging bars with one hand and secure the child with your other, pressing your thigh against a beam in an attempt to stabilize yourself. As the ship lifts off the ground you hear the sounds of even more blaster bullets hitting its side.

“Din!” you yell up from below

“I’m working on it!” he shouts back down. A few moments later he manages to get the ship out of the reach of the blasters, punching it as he exits the stratosphere. A distinct beeping sound rings throughout the ship indicating there was a problem that needed fixing sooner rather than later. You ungrip your hands from the bars and check on the child who seems completely unaware of the situation. Using your free hand you pull yourself up to the cockpit where a disgruntled Mandalorian was cursing under his breath. You place the child down in the back seat buckling him in before taking your own.

“How far can we make it without stopping.” You ask after a long enough time had elapsed for the Mandalorian to calm down

“Far enough to be safe, I hope.” Turning to the side you see the kid sleepily closing its eyes.

“Could you put him to bed? I have to deal with this.” He says gesturing to the entire dashboard which was currently lit up like a tree on life day.

“Of course” you say, you were completely taken with the child, and more than happy to spend time with it.

“Alright where does he keep your bed then.” You say opening up a few compartments until you find the sleeping quarters. Opening the doors Anya’s head looks over to you evidently having slept through the whole ordeal comfortably on the bed. It was decent sized compared to most ship beds but still small especially for someone of Dins stature. Above it was a small hammock like contraption which you assumed was where the child, who was now more awake than asleep, slept.

“You need to rest.” You say softly, but he keeps staring up at you and grabbing at your hair. “C’mon you going to get me in trouble, with the guy upstairs” you smile down at him as he coos slightly. “Well I know one thing that used to help me sleep when I was about your size” You start to sing softly to the creature stroking one of its long ears as you do until it's fallen asleep. Unbeknownst to you the Mandalorian had heard you singing and followed the sound downstairs watching you and the child from afar.

“Mesh’la” he says louder than intended, causing you to turn around.

“He’s just asleep now,” you whisper, handing him to the Mandalorian so he can put him up top. You watch as he tucks the kid in gently squeezing one of its feet before turning back to quietly return to the cockpit.

“Did you say something down there?” you ask, sitting back in the co-pilot seat.

“No,well, yes I was just wondering what the sound was. I’d never heard something like it before.”

“What a lullaby. Didn’t have many of those growing up at the convent?” you ask, always slightly surprised by any personal information the Mandalorian revealed to you.

“No, at least none I can remember. What are they used for?”

“You’ve heard songs before though.”

“Yes, I heard some on Vryssa.”

“ Well Vryssa is home to many a folk song, helps people forget where they are. A lullaby is a song, often sung to a child to help them sleep.” You explain.

“What were you singing about.” He asks

“Ones was about a hanging that happened in Vryssa, told the story of two lovers planning to meet there”

“Doesn’t seem suitable for a child”

“No but I assume he doesn't speak English and lullaby is more about the melody than the words, the second was one passed down from my grandmother about the meadows of her home planet.”

“Where was she from your grandmother?” he asks.

“She never told me a name, only descriptions.”

“Maybe you’ll get to see it one day.”

“Ya maybe, if you and this kid don’t get me killed first.” you laugh, only partially kidding.

“Grogu.”

“Bless you?”

“The kids name, it’s Grogu.” he chuckled softly glancing over at you, still thinking about the way you had looked with him in your arms, singing softly.

After a while the beeping increases to a point where landing was no longer a task that could be put off. You step out onto a stone covered surface stretching out your legs and breathing in the remarkably fresh air.

“Think we lost them” you state, bending down and placing a palm on the smooth, cool moss covered stones. You stand back up and turn around watching as the Mandalorian exits the ship with a tool kit in hand and Anya and Grogu in pursuit. The kid follows Din over to where the damage is opting to stare up at him as he works, seemingly not wanting to be apart from him ever again.

“It's just one of the stabilizers, an easy fix we should be good to go soon!” He shouts over to you

“Anything I can do to help?” You offer

“No, It's a one person job. Thank you” With that you head off curious in exploration of the planet. It's old, empty, you wonder if anyone had ever been here before you. It wasn’t very livable, no trees, no food, no water, a truly desolate place. Yet it possessed a charm unique to planets of old, untouched by the reach of the empire, the republic and everything in between. You peer back over your shoulder, Anya’s sat protectively near the child who's still watching the Mandalorian rattle around the ship. You turn your head back as he closes up, not wanting to get caught staring. He picks up Grogu and re-enters the ship with Anya following close behind. You're about to join them when you feel something approaching. You begin to walk further from the ship and closer towards the presence you were feeling, stopping in your tracks when you see a triangular ship approaching. It's large, too big to be from any crime lord.

“It’s imperial” you hear a voice yell from afar as the Mandalorian makes his way towards you.

“Well never outrun them” you whisper, your brain running through the possible scenarios.

“We have to go”

``We'll never outrun them” you say louder and firmer this time, it didn't take an android to figure out what your probability of success was.

“We don’t have time to argue about this” he grabs your arm, but you pull it free turning to face him.

“Go” The words leave your mouth before you can process what you're saying. He doesn’t move. You can hear the ship approaching inching closer.

“Take them and leave, you have to protect them, keep them safe.” he was right you didn't have time to argue about this.

“Not without you.” he says refusing to move.

“Go!” you say shoving him “Now!”

“I'm not leaving you here”

“Yes you are, the kid he’s all that matters right now, go before he’s taken again. Now!”

“Just come with us” he pleads

“We won’t make it. You know we won't. This isn’t a negotiation. Go I’ll give you as much time as I can.” You see him finally accept the fact that this was in the only way.

“Here, take this” he says, giving you his blaster before turning and starting back towards the ship. He stops turning around one last time.

“(y/n) I…”

“I know” you say, using the force to throw him back towards the ship before turning to face the imperial ship which has landed a hundred yards in front of you.

Dialing up the ship Din takes note of the imperial model hoping he’d be able to find it again. As the troopers march out he sees you look back at him nodding your head as if to say you’ll be fine.You clear your mind breathing in the cool air. Closing your eyes you kneel on the ground placing one hand on the stone and the other on the blaster at your side. You can hear the ship taking off behind you as the troopers take aim firing at them from below, but the shots rebound off the force field that you’ve created.

You hold your ground as the troopers move in towards you determined to protect those inside the ship. Din watches as the blaster shots rebound back into the crowd of troopers. With one last look he jumps the ship into hyperspeed. He moves it into auto pilot and throws his head back in frustration as he hears Grogu cry out. “I know. Well get her back, but we're going to need some help” He says, picking up the kid holding him on his lap as he punches in the coordinates of a familiar planet. You drop the force field and begin firing when you hear the ship jump into hyperspace taking out as many troopers as you can before the blaster runs out. In one last ditch effort you throw it at a stormtrooper knocking it out. Slowly raise your hands in the air. They take aim. You prepare yourself.

“Wait! Don’t shoot” a tall man, dressed in all black says as the crowd of troopers part in his wake.

“We may not need the child after all.”

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din dijarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #reader insert #mando x reader #mando x you #mando x y/n #star wars #not canon #alliance #chapter 6

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emilysamateuryear · 3 years ago

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diary entry, december 2021

I’ve never been big on New Year’s resolutions, but my birthday does feel like a good time for reflective and prospective thinking. I turned 25 this month. And the introspection hurt; my life isn’t how I want it to be.

Obviously I am not the first person to hit 25 and ask myself “how did I get here? How did I end up this person? Should I have taken another path? What should I be doing now?” I guess that is the quarter-life crisis. But it’s painful! At 22, I was fresh out of college and moving across the country for a unique job. At 23, I was traveling and growing, then the pandemic started, and about six months later my job contract ended and a few other things led me to move home. Then I turned 24, and then what? It’s like a whole year just slipped away from me. A year spent unemployed and isolated in my parents’ house. Despite all my free time, I couldn’t gather much motivation for anything. Struggled to do many job applications or even pick up a simple hobby.

I’m doing better now. I feel better. I also started a new full-time job on my birthday; it’s boring temp stuff, but it’s good money and a good opportunity to get back in the swing of things. When it ends in the spring, I think I’ll be mentally and financially empowered to make a big move to another city. I also feel less bogged down by negative introspection- I’m trying to positively think about what I can do to my life. Beyond the big stuff like my career and community and dating, something more basic has been nagging at me. I was always making stuff when I was a kid. All kinds of stuff: from drawing to writing to using Windows Moviemaker to making toys out of felt and puffy paint. But it’s so rare I do any crafts now. I feel like I really need to get in the habit of doing something, anything creative.

There are a couple specific crafts that have been languishing on my Pinterest boards for years. But there’s no solid goal, no particular output. Just input. Just trying for the sake of trying.

So, my 25th birthday resolution: be more creative.

#about

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eryiss · 4 years ago

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Chapter Twelve - The Epilogue

Summary: Freed and Laxus live incredibly different lives. Freed is a corporate lawyer in the capital city, and Laxus works as a handyman in a countryside hotel. Despite their differences, their lives collide when Freed inherits a house in Laxus’ village, and hires him to make the derelict building liveable. But the closer they get, the more they seem to offer each other. [Fraxus Multi-Chapter]

This was written as my admission for Fraxus Day 2020, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus. This is the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy it. I tried with a bit more character drama in this fic, and I hope it went well.

You can read this under the cut, on Fanfiction, or on Archive of Our Own. You can find the chapter masterpost here.

Chapter Twelve – The Epilogue

Wednesday 14th April 2021

Waking up with Laxus' arms wrapped around him was something that Freed was unwilling to give up. Because it came with a feeling of safeness, a comfort that Freed could hardly put into words. It was as if Laxus was enveloping all of his senses; the touch of skin against skin, the scent of Laxus' cologne against his neck. It was an incredibly addictive feeling, but Freed was all too willing to indulge in this particular weakness.

The sound of the other man groaning awake was drowned out by the blaring of their shared alarm clock. Freed watched with partial amusement as Laxus' sleeping face crumpled up into a frown and his eyes blinked open, grogginess and annoyance in his expression.

"Y'know," Laxus croaked, half asleep still. "I don't wanna sound like a kid or anything, but waking up every morning this early is kinda shit."

"I used to picture you as a morning person," Freed teased, though a yawn affected his tone. He shifted slightly to look up at his tried boyfriend and smiled. "How naïve I must have been."

Laxus laughed gently, wrapping his arms around Freed tighter and burying his face in his long hair. Freed sighed in content, unintentionally nuzzling his nose into the crook of Laxus' neck. He blinked a few times, knowing from experience that it would be very easy for him to fall asleep again. And, as much as he really wanted to do that, he couldn't.

A lot had changed over the last three months, for Laxus as well as Freed. The blonde had decided that, although he enjoyed being the town's unofficial handyman, he wanted something more structured. Using his work on Albion House as a sort of resume, as well as a strong reference, Laxus had managed to get a job working in construction management. It was a large and important step for Laxus, and despite the early mornings, he was loving his new work.

Freed's changes had bene more emotional, and insular. His therapy had been working very well, as brutal as it could be at times. He was being told the ways in which he could improve himself, and many of them were working. He felt better about himself, his confidence seemed less forced, and his relationships – platonic and romantic – felt more intimate.

He was still unemployed, though that was his choice. He was frugal and had enough savings to keep him comfortable for half of a year, meaning he had time to search for a job that truly suited his needs and wants.

A job that he would hopefully find in Magnolia, something he'd discussed with Laxus a month after their apology.

Their conversation had been a good one. Freed had partly assumed that it would only focus on their relationship, but it had thankfully been more than that. They'd spoken about Freed's living arrangements – as he could only live with Bickslow for so long – and what he was looking for in terms of work. They'd spoken about Laxus new job and what that meant for them. And they spoke about if it was the right time for them to start dating.

It wasn't, they decided. Laxus job had begun that week, and it was his priority. And as much as Freed's therapy was helping, he was still new to it. But they both wanted more, and Freed proposed the idea of him moving to Magnolia and looking for employ somewhere in and around the town. Laxus had jumped on the chance, and Freed had moved into Albion House within the week.

Having the opportunity to see Laxus as often as he did was great. And despite their initial plan to wait another month to see if they were ready, they found themselves dating within two weeks of Freed living there.

"Eyes open, Dreyar," Freed smirked a little as he saw Laxus' eyes drooping. "You have to leave in an hour."

"Don't care," Laxus grumbled as he hugged Freed tighter. The lawyer put in no effort to fight this movement, nuzzling Laxus' chest. "Don't know why you're so excited about waking up, thought you were dreading today."

"That doesn't change the fact I have to do it," Freed whispered with a laugh, pinching Laxus' forearm and smirking when his eyes shot open in a tired glare. "Though it's true what they say, bad things do come in threes."

Coincidentally, three things that Freed wasn't at all looking forward to had fallen on the same day. After traveling to Era each week for his therapy, Freed had decided to meet Magnolia's only therapist Porlyusica; with Laxus assuring him he didn't mind Freed seeing the same person he had. Along with his first meeting with her, he also had to attend a job interview for Magnolia's most reputable law firm; it was the second job interview he'd ever been to, and he was dreading it. The third thing he had to do was have an evening with Laxus and Makarov, which was not nearly as bad as the other two, but Freed had discovered a fondness for being dramatic.

"You really think Gramps is that bad?" Laxus asked with a laugh. "I could tell him that, imagine how hurt he'd be."

"I'm sure he'd forgive me," Freed chuckled, though there was a hint of bitterness in his words. "Even if his way of doing that is making joked at my expense."

"If you don't wanna be the punchline of his jokes then you shouldn't have told him to fuck off," Laxus grinned, pressing his lips against Freed's crown in a soft kiss.

"I didn't tell him to fuck off, I told him to mind his own fucking business," Freed laughed as he shifted so his face rested on Laxus' chest. "Which, in retrospect, might not have been the best thing to do to the grandfather of the man I wished to date."

"Maybe not your smartest choice," Laxus grinned. "You know he's forgiven you though, right? Like, before you even moved here we talked, and he said he had to respect you for sticking up for me, even if he was pissed off at the time. That's basically as close to him saying that you were right you're gonna get. He's just pissing you off because he thinks it's fun."

"If you insist," Freed smiled slightly. He believed that Makarov made jokes at his expense as a form of test for Freed, making sure that he didn't prioritise his dignity over Laxus. That was a mistake he'd made once before, and didn't plan on doing again, so he could live with the tests. "What time is it?"

"Three in the morning," Laxus lied smoothly. "Let's sleep again."

To counter Laxus' insistence of them sleeping again, Freed removed himself from the blonde's grasp and left the bed; Laxus groaned at the lack of a warm body against his. With tired, slow movements, he moved to the curtains and opened them, giving him the idyllic view of the countryside. He opened the window and allowed the soft breeze to hit him, still enjoying the quietness of Magnolia even after living there for two months. Warm arms wrapped around him from behind tightly, pulling him against a strong body. A tired yawn hit his ears, and a laugh slipped through him.

"You will have to get used to waking up early at some point," Freed smiled, turning in Laxus' arms to face him. "I would have thought you'd be used to it by now."

"Thought I was, but normally you're sleeping," Laxus shrugged, a soft expression on his tired features. "It's kinda hard to get out of bed when your boyfriend is right there, looking all cute and shit. Not to mention naked," He grinned a little, and Freed chuckled. "In the past, all the good stuff happens in bed when you're naked. And when you're looking like that, anything could happen."

"Anything?" Freed chuckled. "You certainly are an optimist, aren't you?"

"Nah, I just know what you're like," Laxus grinned. "Yer just as bad as me, and you know it."

They moved in sync, pushing their heads forward and pressing their lips together in a soft kiss. It was slow, tired, and slightly sloppy, but Freed relished every moment. Burning adrenaline and passion was great, but there was something magnificent about having moments where, despite their tiredness, they could enjoy each other's company and their touch.

But the moment could only last so long, as Freed's phone blared to life in another alarm, this one he had set for himself so he wouldn't risk sleeping through Laxus'. The blonde groaned and pulled away, glaring at the device while Freed chuckled. He picked his phone up and turned the alarm off, smiling at Laxus.

"We have to start getting ready at some point," He chuckled. "As much as I'd like not to."

"Guess so," Laxus shrugged, sitting down on the bed, and groaning as he cracked his back. He glanced towards Freed a moment later and grinned. "You wanna shower first? It'll take hours to tame the rat's nest, won't it?"

"I was going to propose we shower together, actually," Freed grinned. "But after that comment, I think I can do it alone."

"Well, I mean you don't wanna be hasty," Laxus chuckled a little. "I might be able to help out."

"No, there's no need for that. After all, given how long it takes for me to 'tame my rats nest' I wouldn't want to force you in there for hours. You might get bored," Freed smirked a little, keeping Laxus' gaze. "After all, what is there to do in a shower with your very wet and very naked boyfriend to keep you distracted. No, I wouldn't force such boredom on you. I can lather myself up on my own."

"Asshole," Laxus grinned with a chuckle.

Freed went to walk to the en suite attached to his bedroom, but as he walked past Laxus his hand was grabbed, and he was pulled into the man's lap. On reflex he pressed his lips against Laxus', kissing him softly as Laxus pulled him closer.

They kissed for a short while, still tainted with their sleepiness. Once they pulled apart, they rested their foreheads together. Both men wore tired and somewhat lovestruck expressions, the incredible feeling of a soft and lazy morning kiss being new for them. Freed had wrapped his hand into Laxus' hair as they kissed and was now gently stroking it absentmindedly.

"Make sure that don't get too in your head about today," Laxus spoke softly, sincerity now in his tone. "I know you're nervous about the interview, but you'll be fine. And I know you already convinced yourself it's not gonna go well because you've not worked in criminal law before or some crap like that, but you're more than qualified to be there and you know it. You probably got a better degree that the guy who's interviewing you. So don't get all self-sabotaging, just show them how much they need you, okay?"

"I know," Freed nodded, smiling a little while leaning against Laxus. "Thank you."

"It's what I'm here for," Laxus shrugged. "You said the same thing when I went to my interview," He leant up and pressed his lips against Freed's again for a soft kiss. "And don't worry about Porlyusica. She's intense, and she can be kind of an asshole when she wants to be, but she's gonna help ya a lot."

"I know," He repeated, nuzzling Laxus slightly again but pulling away as the snooze alarm went off. "I also know that you're an annoyingly effective distraction when we need to get ready."

Laxus barked out a laugh, pulling Freed close again and kissing him, wrapping his fingers into his hair, and pulling at it. Freed grinned as he kissed back, cupping Laxus' chin and dragging him as close as he could. They remained kissing for a short while, before pulling apart with slight breathlessness. Laxus grinned a little at Freed's expression, despite being just as flushed as Freed was. He cocked an eyebrow at his boyfriend.

"You wanna reconsider you banning me from your shower?" He teased. "Because something tells me that you might."

"Animal," Freed said in response, grinning. "You utter animal."

And before Laxus could ask for clarification, not that he needed it, Freed grabbed him by the chin and pulled him into a hot, passionate kiss, and it was more than enough of an answer for him.

~~~

Sunday 8th May 2022

"Now, although we're here to celebrate my grandson, I think we should spare some congratulations for his boyfriend," Makarov spoke into the microphone. "Because with this job, Laxus will be doing less physical work, meaning he'll have a lot more energy to spend on his dear boyfriend. And after a year of putting on muscle on a building sight, I expect Freed has a lot of ideas for what that spare energy can be used for. Something I'm sure they're both incredibly excited about."

Laxus cringed, blushing as a cheer rushed through the crowd. He glanced towards Freed, to see him laughing and raising his champagne as if in a toast. Because Freed Justine was a traitor.

But Laxus couldn't help but smile at the reaction.

It was sort of a testament to Freed's growth, in a way. The fact that, in front of almost all of their friends and family, Freed was able to laugh at and indulge himself in a joke at his own expense; well, his and Laxus' expense. There was genuine enjoyment in his features as well, with honest laughter rather than forced politeness. When they had first met, he would have gotten either defensively angry or attempted to appear amused while a level of contempt grew in him. But now, his ego allowed him to take jokes. It was good, and Laxus enjoyed seeing it.

The reason for the gathering was Laxus had, after months of looking, gotten a new job. Again. Working at his construction company had been good and satisfying work, but it had awoken desire to move up the ladder. He was shockingly driven when he was enthusiastic about something.

And eventually he'd found a good job, and he was excited about it.

Having a degree in engineering, as well as work experience with Albion House and his time in construction, was instrumental in his promotion. He now was going to have a job as co-project manager in a new housing development three towns over. He was to direct the workmen on the site, while also being trained in the architectural aspects of the process with the intention being he earn a qualification in architecture by the time the estate was finished. It was perfect for him, and more than a step up form where he'd been working before.

It felt cliché to even think it, but as Laxus looked around to see the man he loved laughing with the people who had always been there for him, it felt as though the parts of his life were falling into place. It was a great feeling, to be able to sleep at night while thinking that his life was complete. Even if he had gotten there later than most might have, he was going to make the most of it.

"That's enough from me," Makarov said in conclusion. "This is all just to say, I'm very proud of the man you've become Laxus."

Makarov raised his glass of champagne, and the gathered crowd filling Fairy Tail's back garden mimicked the actions. They let out a cheer of a toast, all looking towards Laxus, who grinned sheepishly and tried to will away the blush on his face at the attention aimed at him. His eyes fell on Freed for anchorage, who was seemingly expecting this and greeted him with a soft, genuine smile that calmed the blonde.

Then he winked and the blush returned threefold, but Laxus could be annoyed about that later.

And thus, the party truly began. Drinks were pored, individual congratulations were made, and people enjoyed their time together. Throughout the night, people close to Laxus who had come to celebrate his new job congratulated him, all the while thanking Laxus for the work he had done for them over the years. It was almost emotional for him, to have people whose pathways he'd re-laid years prior, or people who paid him to remove the leaves from their guttering, treating him as if he were family. He supposed that it was one of the benefits of living in a relatively small village. He thanked them all politely and laughingly assured them that, if he had the time, he would still be happy to work on their houses should they need it.

As evening turned to night, the gathered guests slowly began to leave and return to their homes. Makarov claimed that the night was catching up on him once most of the guests had left, and retired to bed, leaving a small group of Laxus' friends sitting in Fairy Tail's beer garden.

Laxus sat on one of the picnic benches, leaning tiredly against Freed's shoulders as the alcohol in his system put him into a tired sense of lethargy; his sober boyfriend looking at him with amusement in his eyes as he stroked through the blonde hair. On the other side of the picnic table were Cana and Mirajane – now an official couple, though unwilling to admit when that had become true – who were in an equally tired state. Lisanna sat on the grass nearby, playing with one of the dogs at the adoption centre she now worked at. The only person missing was Elfman, who was obviously on his weekly Skype call with Evergreen despite both of their claims otherwise. Nobody called the two of them on their lies, because as fun as it would be, they seemed happy with their odd relationship.

"So, giving up your heritage and becoming an exec, huh?" Cana grinned, fiddling with an empty pint glass. "You're a traitor to your people."

"Yeah, most execs spend their days inches deep in dirt on a building site. I mean in a couple months I'll be like Freed used to be when we first met him," Laxus chuckled, and noticed the stroking of his hair slowing slightly. He smirked before continuing. "Nah, don't think I could get that far up my own ass."

"Hey," Freed attempted to sound offended, but was grinning when he tilted Laxus' head towards him. "I distinctly remember you being quite interested in me when we first met."

"Yeah, I guess," Laxus grinned back, and the stroking of his hair continued. "But I like you more now."

"Do you now?" Freed grinned. "Please, go into detail about why."

"Fuck me," Cana groaned "You two are revolting."

"You can fucking talk," Laxus snorted, looking towards Cana as she leant against her girlfriend. "I'll give you half the money in my fucking wallet right now if you ain't playing footsie under the table with each other."

"They are," Lisanna said as she threw a chew toy across and watching the dalmatian amble after it. "Have been since they sat down."

"Wow, I came here to support my friend and enjoy his company. And yet now I'm being attacked by everyone," Cana shook her head in an exaggerated gesture of being offended. "First from the never-ending gay honeymoon who never shut up about how in love they are," She gestured to Freed and Laxus, both of them chuckling at the title they'd been given. "And now from the woman who might one day be my sister in law. And all because I wanted to congratulate my very dear friend about his new job."

"And the free booze," Laxus smirked, and Cana cackled loudly, not bothering to pretend to be insulted.

"Fair," She cackled, looking over towards her girlfriend. "But I've gotten drunk enough, and it's pretty late. Ready to go home?"

"Yeah," Mirajane smiled, shifting to remove herself from the picnic bench they were all sat around. She walked to the other side, pressing her lips to both Laxus' and Freed's cheeks in a form of goodbye. "See you both soon. And good luck with your first day, I'm sure you'll be great."

"Thanks Mira," Laxus smiled.

"And if you fuck it up, you can always fuck your boss again. Worked well last time," Cana laughed, and Laxus glared while Freed chuckled to himself.

"Don't encourage her," Laxus grumbled over into shoulder.

"Well, you can't deny it. The last time you fucked your boss it worked quite well in the end," Freed chuckled, laughing happily when Laxus punched him in the arm. He pressed his lips onto the top of Laxus' head, then whispering softly. "Though if you do consider it, be aware I have a rather possessive side and will fight for you."

"That's hot," Laxus whispered back, leaning up and pressing his lips against Freed's and pulling him closer.

"This is a public space," Cana groaned, and Laxus pulled away to glare at her. Mirajane and Lisanna – dog now on a leash – standing either side of her, meaning it would only be the two men left from the party soon. "Nobody wants to see you tongue fucking each other."

"Then why are you watching?" Freed grinned.

"I preferred it when you were trying to get us to like you again," Cana smirked, and Freed laughed again. "Later blondie. Later fuckboy."

At their respective nicknames that they couldn't get rid of – no matter how hard Freed had tried – Freed and Laxus wished their friends a goodnight. They were soon left alone in Fairy Tail's beer garden, resting against one another as they enjoyed the silence of a village during the night. Laxus shifted slightly so he could look up at Freed, fondness painting his expressions.

"Thanks for the past few months," He said softly.

"What do you mean?" Freed tiled his head slightly, and a strand of hair fell and hit Laxus on the cheek. The blonde absently began playing with it.

"For being there, helping me find a job," Laxus explained, running the strands of green hair through his fingers. "For being okay with me quitting my job and being unemployed for a quarter of a year while I was looking."

"You did the same for me," Freed responded, smiling at his boyfriend's actions.

"Yeah, but you had savings and crap, and you had an idea of what you actually wanted to do. And we weren't dating when you quit your job," Laxus shrugged. "I never needed to support you or to talk about how the right job was around the corner or any of the crap that I made you do for me. So thanks for being okay with it all, and for not getting pissed off at me."

"You know it's not a problem," Freed whispered. "Though, I suppose I do have one regret about what happened over the last few months."

"Really?" Laxus asked, a flush of worry overtaking him.

"Nothing bad, mind you, so you can drop the expression," Freed chuckled, taking Laxus' hand in his own and stroking it absently. "It's just, some of the times when you needed a bit of enthusiasm, or just someone to talk to, it was over the phone. In retrospect it would have been considerably easier to do that in person. And, well, the best way for us to make sure that happens in the future would be to have you be around more often. And perhaps the best way to accomplish this would be to-"

"Are you asking me to move in with you?" Laxus cut in, sitting up. Cautious excitement filled him.

"Well, there's more than enough space-" Freed shook his head. "Sorry, I need to stop giving excuses in place of emotions. Old habits die hard I suppose. But yes, I want to have you live with me. Because I am in love with you, and I think living together would be incredible."

"You're serious?" Laxus asked again, grinning now. "You wanna have me live with ya? Permanently?"

"If you're ready for that," Freed clarified. "But yes, I'd like that."

In place of an answer, Laxus almost launched himself into Freed by kissing him hard. The force of the action made them both stumbles, taking them off the bench and onto the grass below. Freed laughed loudly as Laxus landed atop him, the sound slightly winded because of the weight on his chest. Laxus chuckled, pushing himself off of Freed while grinning.

"Just to clarify, was that a yes, or was that you trying to kill me to avoid an uncomfortable conversation?" Freed asked, rasping slightly, grinning.

"Shut the fuck up," Laxus said, though he was beaming, laughing boisterously as he pulled Freed up from the ground, so they were both standing. Freed had a similarly excited expression on his face, and the honest emotions of it made Laxus' heart nearly flutter. "And it's a yes, fucker. Of course it's a fucking yes."

~~~

Saturday 5th October 2024

Freed hadn't expected it, but he'd turned somewhat sentimental about his relationship.

A testament to this was how much he looked forward to Saturday mornings. He and Laxus had gotten into the habit of cooking breakfast together and eating it at their kitchen table, and despite how small and unimportant it might have seen to an outsider, Freed thought that it might be his favourite time of the week. It was certainly the thing he looked forward to most, and that his mind strayed to when he found himself bored at work.

Given both men now held managerial positions in their respective companies, they worked long hours. Freed had been the one to propose that, rather than working late, they enter work early each morning to have the evenings to enjoy each other's company. This meant that, although they woke up at the same time, their mornings were rushed, and they didn't have time to enjoy one another's presence before starting their days. It was the best way to stop their work life from affecting their relationship, but Freed did find himself craving the lazy mornings they used to share, hence why he liked Saturday so much.

They woke up together, laid in each other's arms for as long as they wanted, before stumbling down the stairs and cooking a large breakfast. Having pancakes and bacon while drinking coffee, looking at his boyfriend as he yawned, hair a mess and bags under his eyes, was heaven for Freed.

And today, he was in a particularly good mood.

Evergreen and Bickslow had come to stay at Albion House for the weekend, as they did a few times a year. He had kept his friendship with the two of them strong, with daytrips to the city being a regular thing, as well as video calls and near constant messaging. But having them in his home for the weekend was something he would always look forward to.

The two guests were still asleep, given that eight AM on a weekend was not considered sleeping in for most people on a weekend. But Laxus and Freed had woken early, and were now dancing around one another as they cooked, something they had grown to be proficient at.

To say that they had hit their stride as a couple was an understatement.

Freed carefully placed four rashers of bacon onto a frying pan above a gas burner, the smell of cooking meat filling his senses. As he gently prodded it with a spatula, large arms wrapped around him and a kiss was pressed into the back of his neck. He turned with a smile, looking to see Laxus wearing his nightwear and a large, fluffy, purple dressing down. Freed smiled a little at that, leaning against the man's back as he watched the food cook.

"Good morning," Freed smiled, turning a rasher over and relishing in the fizzing of the oil. "Is the hug solely for me, or to get closer to the food so you get it first?"

"It's for you," Laxus said with offence in his tone, though then laughed. "But if I can eat before Bickslow forces it down like a mad dog, I won't mind."

"I've made more than enough for all of us," Freed assured him. "Have you started on the pancake batter yet?"

"It can wait," Laxus mumbled, peppering kisses on the back of Freed's neck while smiling softly. Freed wore a similar expression. "I wanna make the most of you before they wake up. Don't wanna hear them bitching about how close we are and how much we're kissing. So I'm gonna get as many in before they show up."

"I suppose I can't complain about that," Freed grinned, placing the spatula resting against the frying pan. "Though their complaints haven't stopped you before."

"Doesn't mean I want to have an audience," Laxus grumbled, smiling as Freed turned around in his arms. He leant down so that their noses were resting against one another softly, smiling. "Because sometimes I want you all to myself."

"And forty-nine weeks of the year isn't enough for you?" Freed taunted.

"Fuck no," Laxus grinned, leaning down and pressing his lips against Freed's.

They shared a soft but passionate kiss for a short while, leaning against one another. Freed pushed Laxus' against the kitchen island they'd had installed, smirking a little when Laxus' hand began to play with his hair. When they pulled apart, both slightly breathless, they grinned at each other. There quiet mornings shared together really were incredible, and Freed certainly understood why Laxus didn't want to share it with their friends.

Unfortunately, their time alone could only last for so long, given their friends habit of acting like forces of nature when they wanted to. To prove this, they walked into the kitchen with the door banging loudly against the counter. The two men pulled away from each other, smiling resignedly.

"Get a room," Bickslow groaned.

"We had one," Laxus laughed. "You two just walked into it."

"In fact we had an entire house," Freed continued, pulling himself from Laxus' grasp to walk to the oven again. "You walked into that too."

"It smells divine," Evergreen praised as she sat at the kitchen table, glancing at herself in her compact mirror. She was the only person who had showered and dressed herself, something she did every time she stayed there. "Hopefully enough to distract me from sleeping on that awful sofa."

"I made it perfectly clear that I was happy to drive you to Elfman's house where I'm sure a bed would be waiting for you," Freed said plainly, removing the cooked bacon from the frying pan. "You argued against it; therefore the sofa was all that was left. And why you continue to be so peculiar around the poor man is something you've yet to explain to me. You've been dating for over a year now, it's hardly a scandal to want to spend time with him."

"Bickslow got the spare room," Evergreen huffed, ignoring Freed's comment. The lawyer sighed a little, wondering if he would ever get an insight to her relationship.

"He's not dating someone who lives here," Laxus laughed. "And doesn't have someone who'd take him to bed."

"Not that you know," Bickslow grinned, wiggling his eyebrows as he looked over the mounting food that Laxus and Freed had made. Before any of them could wonder if there was any truth in the statement, Bickslow kept going. "We're having Laxus' pancakes right; basically the only reason I come here?"

"We are, and I'm sure he'll be happy to make them once the bacon is done," Freed assured him then thought for a moment. "Although I'm not sure how many eggs we have, so we might not have that many."

"I can go check if she's laid any," Laxus shrugged, and Freed chose not to comment on the smile tugging at Laxus' lips.

"Thank you," Freed smiled, pressing his lips against Laxus' cheek as the blonde walked past him, pulled on his slippers and walked to the chicken coop in the garden, where their three chickens now lived. He shook his head at the enthusiasm that Laxus showed for their animals, given that Freed had initially been the one trying to convince him of them.

When he turned his head to his friends, Freed mentally prepared himself. Because what happened next was inevitable.

"Are you fucking kidding me!" Bickslow exclaimed, only whispering because he didn't want to alert Laxus to his annoyance.

"You can't just drop something like that on us!" Evergreen hissed, equally annoyed.

"What do you mean?" Freed smirked slightly as he began plating up food.

"We mean that bullshit you pulled last night," Bickslow snapped, crossing his arms. "We mean it's unfair that, after a perfectly innocent question about if you wanted to go out for dinner this evening, you decided that you couldn't because, and I quote, 'my funds are a little low this month because of the engagement ring.' And after you just casually mentioned that you decided to go to bed before we could ask any more questions."

"What other questions is there?" Freed asked, grinning slightly.

"What does it look like?" Evergreen said with exasperation in her voice. "When are you going to ask? How are you going to ask? Have you already asked and is this some nonsense where you don't tell us like those two women you're friends with?"

"Right," Freed nodded, glancing at the garden to see Laxus petting one of the chickens rather than looking for eggs. He had time. "I haven't asked him yet, hence why I didn't mention it with him in the room. I don't know how nor when I will ask him, all I know is that I will. I have faith that the moment will present itself and I'll be eloquent enough when it comes to it. And as for what it looks like, this is it."

Freed pulled out his phone, scrolled through his pictures, and opened the picture of the ring that he had brought. It was a simple obsidian band, made of simple geometric shapes. It was relatively minimalist, and Freed thought it was perfect for Laxus. He showed his friends it.

"Holy shit," Bickslow grinned. "Our boys all grown up."

"It looks great," Evergreen smiled, taking the phone, and zooming in on the picture. "It definitely suits him as well," She handed the phone back, and her smile was almost disconcerting. "You must have some idea about how you're going to do it?"

"Well, we've developed the tradition of hiking up the mountain every Christmas eve," Freed mused aloud. "I suppose if I can hold off from doing it until then, it would be quite romantic."

Stupidly, both of his friends let out a slight squeal at that.

"You're both ridiculous," Freed tutted slightly, though was grinning now. "I assume I can count on you both to keep this to yourself, right?"

They both agreed to this, and Freed turned back to the cooking he was doing. His eyes strayed over their back garden again, and he smiled softly as he watched Laxus attempting to access whatever eggs may or may not have been laid by their chickens. The chickens themselves were flocking to Laxus and either rubbing against him or pecking at him for attention; for whatever reason they had affinity for the man and loved his presence. He was laughing to himself, and it made Freed grin.

He soon watched as his boyfriend managed to leave the coop and the onslaught of attention from their chickens, and walked down their garden holding a small basket. It wasn't lost on Freed how cliché that they had become – keeping livestock while living in the country – but he found himself too happy to care.

"Only laid two," Laxus said as he walked inside. "It's enough, but we have to go to the store later."

"It doesn't shock me," Freed said, a slight tease in his tone. "You shower them with so much attention no matter what that they've got no incentive to lay any."

Laxus chuckled, and Freed passed him a mug of steaming coffee to warm him up. As Laxus cupped the hot drink, Freed realised that it would be very difficult indeed for him to keep the ring to himself before Christmas.

Because the man before him – dressed in an overly fluffy dressing gown, having just been accosted by adoring chickens, with red cheeks and mumbling through his pancake recipe without realising he was speaking out loud – was perfection. And to not shower the man with as much love and devotion as humanly possible would be incredibly difficult indeed.

~~~

Sunday 13th December, 2026

"I now pronounce you husband and husband," Mirajane declared. "You may seal your marriage with a kiss."

Laxus and Freed moved with practiced synchronicity. They both took a single step forward, placing their hands on the back of the other man's neck, and brought their lips together. The kiss was soft, chaste but filled with emotion and passion and devotion for one another. It was their first kiss as a married couple, and it was utter perfection.

As they pulled apart, the small congregation that sat in the cathedral applauded, with a few cheers echoing around the large room. Both men smiled without dignity nor care for their surroundings, unable to look away from each other's eyes. The room was filled, but it felt as if they were alone.

Similar to their practice-ceremony, they walked down the cathedral isle with their hands intertwined. Laxus was grabbing onto his husband's hand as if he was a lifeline, and the feeling of an equally strong grasp on his own hand was perfect. The blonde could think of nothing but the fact that finally, after six years, he was married to the man of his dreams. That for the rest of their lives, they were bound together through marriage. It was perfect.

Everything was perfect.

It had been a small ceremony, with not many people there. Freed had no living family and Laxus had very little, so other than Makarov it was essentially their closest friends. This suited them both, as neither particularly wanted a large public spectacle.

As they left the cathedral, they say that it had begun to snow gently. The hired cars stood parked a little while away, and their photographer – Reedus – was waiting for them. No bells rung, as was their instructions, and slowly people began to file out of the building so that the pictures could be taken. This all seemed to happen around the two men, with them both too enveloped in their own world of each other.

When the photography started, they followed Redus' instructions. Multiple pictures had been taken, all of which had Laxus and Freed in the middle while different selections of their friends gathered around them. On any other day Laxus might have found it all tedious and unnecessary, but he was too high on the elation to care.

Once Reedus had claimed that the rest of the photographs would include the grooms individually rather than together, Freed leant to Laxus and whispered.

"May I have a minute?" He asked softly.

"Of course," Laxus nodded, knowing what Freed needed.

He removed his hand from Freed's and allowed his husband – a shot of joy rushed through him every time he thought of Freed that way – to walk toward Evergreen. Laxus watched with a soft smile on his face as the woman walked to her car, pulled out a bouquet of flowers from her back seat, and handed it to Freed. The lawyer seemed to have thanked her, before walking to the cemetery attached to the cathedral.

This was why Freed had requested that they get married here, in a town neither near Era nor Magnolia. Initially Laxus had been confused as to why Freed wanted to wed in a cathedral, with neither man being religious, but it made sense. This was where Freed had been raised, and where both of his parents had been buried.

Between the photographs taken with his wedding party – Elfman as his best man, Cana his matron of honour – he found his eyes lingering on Freed, who was now crouched down before a gravestone. His lips were moving as if speaking Laxus smiled at the sight.

Freed really had made progress. It was incredible to see.

Once all the pictures of Laxus had been taken, Reedus asked whether Freed was ready to begin his solo pictures. Laxus glanced to see that Freed was still speaking to his parent's grave, and said that he'd ask Freed, but he might need some time. The photographer agreed and took a step back, deciding to take requests.

Laxus thanked him for his patience, walking towards Bickslow's car first where both his and Freed's coats had been stored. He was already feeling the cold, and suspected Freed would be too. He picked his out first, a large faux-fur lined thing that Freed often referred to as the cloak, given Laxus' tendency not to wear the sleeves. He also removed the red, almost Victorian styled jacket Freed always wore since he had brought it. He'd seen it at a thrift store of all things, and had fallen in love with it. Laxus always grinned at the memory, often teasing Freed with how he used to only wear designer suits.

He walked slowly to his husband, stepping on the gravel pathway to make sure his presence was known. Freed looked up Laxus and smiled softly, which Laxus returned. He placed the coat over Freed's shoulders and looked down at the gravestone, decorated with a new bunch of flowers.

'Here lie August and Myriam Justine, Loving Partners and Caring Parents.'

"You okay?" Laxus asked, and Freed nodded.

"I am. It's nice to see them. Even if I can't actually… see them," He spoke quietly, still crouching before the grave. "I should come here more often; it helps more than I remember. Though I'm sure you of all people know that."

"We could make time to come regularly, if you want," Laxus offered. "I still go to moms grave at least once a month."

"Perhaps," Freed nodded slightly. "Am I needed?"

"We can wait," Laxus shrugged.

"No, I've spoken to them for long enough. No doubt if they can hear me somehow they'd be bored of it," Freed chuckled, standing upright. "And that photographer was rather expensive, if I remember correctly, so I wouldn't want to waste our money."

"That's not important," Laxus said firmly. "If you need more time, you get it."

"Maybe another minute would be nice," Freed admitted.

Laxus nodded. Freed looked down at his parents shared grave, and Laxus wrapped an arm around his shoulder to silently show he was there. He stood beside his husband, the snow falling softly around them and making Freed look ethereal in his beauty. To be able to call this man his husband wasn't something that Laxus would ever take for granted, and he counted himself more than lucky that Freed had chosen to spend his life with him.

As they stood in silence, Laxus noticed that a few tears had begun to fall form Freed's eyes, but he didn't mention any of them. He pulled Freed slightly closer, and allowed his husband to silently cry at his parent's gravestone. This was something that happened every time either man visited the grave of their loved ones, and Laxus was glad Freed now felt he could express his emotions openly.

He pressed his lips against the crown of Freed's head softly, allowing the man to raise his hand to his face and wipe away the stray tears from his cheeks.

"You okay?" He whispered softly, and Freed nodded against him.

"I just needed to get it out," Freed explained softly, as he always did on the occasions where he cried about his parents. Laxus had assured him he didn't need to explain. "But I think I'm ready to get back to it now."

"You sure?" Laxus asked, and Freed nodded.

Removing his arm from around Freed's shoulders, Laxus took a step back. He watched as Freed looked down at his parent's grave again, a gentle and loving expression on his face. It was a look that Laxus adored seeing on his husband's face, and the honesty in the expression warmed Laxus more than he could describe.

"Goodbye father. Goodbye mother," Freed whispered. He placed a kiss on his fingertips and pressed them against the marble gravestone. "I love you both very much."

He took a moment to gather his thoughts and calm his breathing. Laxus watched from the side-line as he spoke again, his voice almost silent.

"And for all you have both done, thank you."

~Fin~

#Fraxus Day 2020 #Fraxus Day #Fraxus #Freed Justine #Laxus Dreyar #Fairy Tail #Fanfic #Writing #Event #Multichapter #Word Count 7.5k #Fuckyeahfraxus

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