#the regular design is still the cape+ruffles one I just wanted to put them in a classic collector dress things too

[anglerflsh]

Did some very surface-level digging for collector design reasons and reworked the colors of the prince a bit + the image on its own for clarity

#[.art] #toh #collector oc #black hole prince #I decided to make them a tiny bit more canon adiancent in quantity of colors and smilar. At the sake of vibrancy but #I do like the desaturated collector designs more than the purpleblue official one #also the collectors in the paintings all have slightly different outfits it seems? plus the one we first saw #so I'm deciding some variety is allowed #the regular design is still the cape+ruffles one I just wanted to put them in a classic collector dress things too

[darks-ink]

Reanimation - Ectoberweek 2020

A family can be a bunch of ghost hunters and 1 (half) ghost child.

[first part]

Rating: Teen Warnings: Implied character death, implied child abuse Genre: Family, Hurt/Comfort Words: 2,439 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - canon divergence, Sequel, Families of choice/Found family

[AO3] [FFN]

---

Agent O looked up from the report he was working on, trying to surreptitiously glance at the ghost in the van. One of the other agents had put a blanket on her—why did they have blankets in their ghost hunting van?—and she looked… cozy, for lack of a better word. Curled up even smaller than she already was, with the cape wrapped tight around her body, holding it tightly with her small fists, like she was afraid they might take it away from her otherwise.

Knowing what they had seen, where she had come from… O wouldn’t be surprised if it was a fear formed from experience.

She seemed stable enough for now, as long as she wasn’t using any of her powers. Which was good, because O wasn’t sure how they were supposed to stabilize her. When he’d promised to help her, he’d assumed that the scientists back at the base would know.

Hell, he hoped they knew. He’d promised, and knowing what she’d gone through, he would feel terrible going back on that promise now.

Looking down at the report again, he frowned. Turned back to the ghost. Cleared his throat to draw her attention. “Do you… have a name?” Was there any way to find out who these ghosts had been in life? To find out whether Masters had taken children and killed them, turned them into ghosts?

Were there parents, somewhere out there, whose child was gone and left behind the shade sitting opposite of O?

“Danielle,” she muttered, so quiet that O almost missed it. She repeated, a little more determinedly, “Danielle Phantom.”

And there it was again. Not only did she looked like Phantom, she used his name as a last name as well. How odd.

“Any relation to Phantom from Amity Park?” he asked. Had Masters somehow modeled her after Phantom? And if he had, would he have told her?

“Yeah, um.” She glanced away, eyes on her fidgeting hands. “He’s my… cousin.”

“Did Masters tell you that?” Agent L asked before O could work out an answer. “Or did you know that yourself?”

“I…” Danielle paused, clearly working through her answer. “I knew we were related,” she finally settled on. “But Daddy told me to call him my cousin.”

“And your brother?” O prodded, glaring at L over his glasses to get him to back off. “Did you know he was your brother for sure, or did Masters tell you that, too?”

Because it was undeniable that Danielle resembled Phantom more than just a little. Far more than what O would consider normal for humans. For ghosts, who could look like just about anything? It seemed suspect.

Was Phantom the first attempt? An escapee who wouldn’t listen to Masters? If he wanted another ghost just like Phantom, of course he would’ve prioritized her brother over her.

God, if only they had seen the other ghost before he’d destabilized. If he really had looked just like Phantom…

Well, it certainly had implications, didn’t it?

“No, I…” She frowned, then shook her head. “It’s different. We were all siblings, me and my brothers. Bones, Mo, Pixie… So of course he was, too, even if he never got to leave the incubator.”

“I see…” Bones, Mo, Pixie… those must’ve been the other ghosts near the mansion. Bones likely the skeletal ghost and Mo the muscular ghost, which meant that Pixie might’ve been the small one. “Your name seems a little strange, compared to theirs. How come?”

She shrugged, tugging the blankets further up, trying to curl away into it. “I… I was the only one who Daddy named. Bones, Mo, Pixie, we all picked their names. But Daddy called me Danielle…”

Her face crumpled, suddenly, somewhere between sad and outraged. “He didn’t even care about any of them! He only pretended to care about me! I— I—” The glow around her body brightened, the light visible through the blanket. Green coalesced around her clenched fists.

“Shh, shh, calm down,” O hushed, hands out and paused before putting them on her. “Danielle, you’re going to destabilize if you keep this up. Just calm down.”

“No!” she shouted back, her bright eyes snapping up to meet O’s eyes. “They’re all gone already! Nobody is going to care if I go to! Maybe—” The fire in her cut out as sudden as it had come. She sniffled, tears in her eyes. “Maybe we’ll get to reunite someplace else, someplace better.”

“Hey, shh, don’t talk like that.” O finally finished the motion he’d started, placing one hand on her shoulder. Damn this entire squad for being emotionally constipated. “Don’t look at it like that. Just think of it this way. You still remember your brothers, right, even though they’re gone? So as long as you still live, still remember them, they won’t be entirely gone.”

“Besides,” K cut in, finally. “This way, you can help us ensure that Masters gets punished properly, so he won’t ever be able to do what he did to you and your brothers. Don’t you want to help us with that?”

Her glow settled down, finally, as her expression grew determined. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I would like to do that.”

O drew back, then threw a glance at the report he’d abandoned to the floor. Shook his head as he picked it up, then put it away properly, instead taking out a voice recorder. “Alright, how about we start with this then. You tell us everything you know. We can record it, and you won’t have to talk about any of it again if it hurts too much, okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” She nodded, shifting her shoulders underneath the blanket like she was bracing herself. “Tell me where to start, please?”

---

“Danielle,” O said, disapprovingly, frowning at her. “You know the rules.”

“K said it was fine!” she immediately retorted, gesturing at her plate. Which was, of course, loaded with all kinds of sweets. Sometimes she maybe it rather easy to remember that her apparent age and her mental age didn’t quite line up right.

“Did he now?” O asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “So if I go over there right now and ask him…”

“No, don’t!” She grabbed onto the plate, holding it away from him. “L said I should, not K! But—”

Why was it always L? O made a mental note to speak to the man later, and then to talk to L’s partner M as well, just to be safe.

“Danielle,” he said, more patiently now. “I know you like the sweet things, but you need to eat properly, okay? You need to stay healthy.”

“But the ectoplasmic stuff is yucky.” She made a face, then jerked away when he stepped closer. “You can’t stop me from eating this!”

“Danielle,” O said, again, feeling his patience rapidly deplete. “You can have it after you’ve eaten all your regular food, okay?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly considering it. Finally she heaved a deep sigh and put the plate back down onto the table. “Fine.”

“I’ll go and grab some from the kitchen, then.” He stepped past her, ruffling her hair on the way. “Behave yourself, or I’ll have P and Q watch over you next time.”

“Noooo,” she whined, sprawling over the table. “I’ll behave, I promise!”

O hummed thoughtfully. “You’d better, little lady.” And with a last wink to her, he left the room.

Time would tell whether she would actually listen or not. O wasn’t sure if it was proper parenting behavior but, to be fair, none of them were proper parents anyway.

Besides, what kind of parenting advice would apply to a young ghost, anyway? Danielle appeared to be about twelve, but her behavior often seemed to fit a child much younger, and she couldn’t remember a life before being a ghost, either.

At least they had managed to stabilize her. It took quite a bit of work to convince the scientists to help stabilize her, rather than experiment on her, but they had managed it. After all, Danielle had been one of their few captures, and her behavior was so complicated that it clearly required further research. Not to mention her similarities to Phantom. Subjecting her to regular research would’ve a waste, no?

O scoffed to himself. A waste, definitely, but not for any of those reasons.

Now all they needed to keep her stable was a steady diet of ectoplasmic contaminated food. And also some regular food, because Danielle burned through quite a bit of energy just by existing.

And boy, was she intent on doing more than just existing. They needed all Agents on base just to keep her safe and occupied sometimes. Over time it had just… somehow become standard fare for all of them. They were all living on base anyway, so why not help take care of the little ghost?

O shook his head to try and dislodge the thoughts and focus on what he was doing. With a resigned sigh he opened the designated Danielle fridge, peering over its contents to find something lunch-worthy. Ah! Sliced ham. Perfect.

Quickly, he set about making some sandwiches, letting his thoughts stray once more. Yes, somehow Danielle had become the base’s shared child. No one present among the Guys in White would dare to harm her anymore. The few scientists that had let their curiosity stray a little too far had been corrected and, when they refused to learn, got fired entirely.

Or, well. They weren’t around anymore, at least. O might be in charge of his team, but he wasn’t that high up. He assumed they must’ve gotten fired, but who knew with government organizations like theirs.

Either way, Danielle was safe among them. She was cared for, protected, and okay. They hadn’t gotten Masters locked away yet, building a perfect foolproof plan first, but he was under constant supervision. No other children would suffer, no other ghosts would be made by his hand.

And, soon enough, he would pay for what he had done.

O finished the sandwiches, cleaning up the supplies and carefully picking up the plate. Now, time to see if Danielle had behaved herself.

He stepped through the doorway, back into the room where he’d left Danielle. Quietly, he inched closer to the table, then put down the plate with sandwiches right between her hand and the plate with sweets.

“Busted,” she murmured, withdrawing her hand.

“Busted,” O echoed with a grin, drawing away the other plate. “Lunch first, Danielle.”

“I know, I know.” She sighed wearily, like it was a huge task, and pulled the sandwiches closer to herself. “But sweets after?”

“Eat all your lunch first, then we’ll see if you have space left.” He sat down opposite of her, the plate with sweets in front of him. “Who’s watching you after?”

“Agent K is,” she said around a bite of food. “Why?”

“Well, we wouldn’t want you to get sick while she’s watching you, would we?” O smiled down at her. If it had been L, he might’ve considered it. It would’ve been a good lesson for both Danielle and L, who had encouraged her. But K? She was a good Agent, and she took good care of Danielle.

O watched Danielle tuck a strand of black hair behind her ear, feeling… satisfied. Yes, they were taking pretty good care of her, all things considered. She’d stabilized, and her core had grown mature enough for her to develop her own unique powers. She was a fully grown ghost now, even if her mind remained young.

Still, he was curious to see if she would grow in body, too. One of the first unique powers she had developed was a minor shapeshifting ability, after all, allowing her to look perfectly human. Which made sense, according to the Agents on base, since Danielle was so human, and spent so much time around humans as well. Of course she would develop powers related to that.

It was perfectly possible that she would continue to develop her shapeshifting ability to allow her to look older as time passed. O would be curious to see it. To see what she would look like, fully grown.

And, yes. Sometimes he wondered if this was what Danielle had looked like before she’d died. If somewhere out there, there were parents who could look at her and know this was their child. But they didn’t know how long Masters had her, or any of the other ghosts. Didn’t know what happened to their parents.

For all they knew, Masters had taken only orphans, or had killed the parents and made them orphans. It was better not to worry about it, when there was nothing to be done about it anymore.

Danielle finished her sandwiches, then turned big, watery, blue eyes onto O. “Please?”

He sighed, then slid the plate with sweets back over to her. “If you get sick, it’ll be your own fault. And L’s.”

“Yes!” she cheered, taking the plate from him. “I’ll be careful, promise!”

“Uh huh,” he said, dry and unconvinced.

She started munching away on the sweets, scattering crumbs all over the table as well as her clothes. Mentally, O made a note to have someone clean the room later.

“Hey,” Danielle said, suddenly, lowering the piece of chocolate she’d been about to bite into. “O? Is there… any chance you guys might take me to Amity Park someday?”

Amity Park? Why?

Apparently he’d taken a moment too long to respond, because she quickly added, “Y’know, to meet my cousin?”

“I… I’ll talk to the others about it, see if we can manage something.” Right. Her cousin. Who they were hunting down for haunting Amity Park. Who might be another one of Masters’ victims, and who might be just as human as Danielle.

That Phantom.

Danielle grinned at him, bright and cheerful. “Thank you!”

O sighed, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “Don’t thank me just yet. I can’t promise anything, just that I’ll try.”

“So? I can thank you for trying, can’t I?” She patted his hand, then suddenly jumped out of her chair. “Oh! I’d better get going before K gets worried.”

“Go, then,” O said, waving her away. “And Danielle? Stay out of trouble.”

“Like K will let me get in trouble,” she answered, blowing a raspberry at him. “Bye, O!” she called back before rushing out of the room, running down one of the hallways.

He listened to her rapidly decreasing footsteps, then heaved a sigh.

Right. Time to look into Phantom and Amity Park once more.

#danny phantom #ectoberweek2020 #ectoberweek 2020 #dp fanfic #phanfic #danielle phantom #guys in white #dark writes #i can't believe i'm going to need to write a third part to this series just to fit in the meeting with Danny

[ancientbooshartifacts]

Carpe Noctem

Author: Silent-Fields

Year: 2010

Rating: PG-13

Characters: Richmond, Anthrax & Ebola

Richmond watched as the children of the night careened about in a haze of smoke, extending their pale arms towards Heaven and Hell. After weeks of careful research, tonight was the night Richmond had decided to set out and experience his first goth club. He had chosen Pandora's Box because it offered two rooms spinning various genres, a lounge, and a very extensive bar. He was in the gothic room at the moment, enjoying the contrast of ethereal female vocals with demonic male ones echoing from the club's speakers. With his last few paychecks as Project Executive, Richmond built himself up an extensive wardrobe, favoring mostly Victorian and Edwardian inspired styles, but liking the cuts on many of the more modern clothes as well. Most of his old clothes were then donated, but he did keep a few pieces. A purple dress shirt did look quite nice with a black tie. For his debut he wore a black frock coat, a black ruffled shirt whose cuffs dangled just enough over his hands to be dramatic but not a hindrance, and a maroon waistcoat. Black trousers and pointed boots completed his outfit. He had recreated the eye make-up he had done for Denholm's father's funeral, but chose to simply line his lips' natural shape rather than draw them into a frown. He wanted to be approachable, trying for subtle indifference with a hint of misery for tonight's look. His parents had been more upset about his demotion than his new lifestyle. "You always liked The Addams Family and Tim Burton movies," his mother said with a shake of her head. "And there was that time your father took you to see Kiss. But Richmond dear, can you still support yourself?" Richmond had enough savings to cover any emergencies that may arise within the next few months and tended to live rather frugally, so the lower pay hadn't really bothered him. What had been surprising was how much more comfortable he was now, finding solace in the shadows of the night after years of corporate competition under harsh florescent. Richmond had been so lost in reminiscing that he didn't notice two girls approaching him until they were right in front of him. The taller of the two was wearing a long black velvet dress with bell sleeves, her wavy blonde hair flowing over both her shoulders. The shorter girl's black hair was pinned back with spider shaped sliver clips, and she wearing a black knee-length tank dress with zippers on the straps, fishnet stockings, and combat boots. Both wore matching necklaces, a silver dagger on a satin cord that stopped at the tops of their breasts. Drinks in hand and small purses on their shoulders, they introduced themselves. "Hello, I'm Ebola.” said the blonde, her manner stoic. "And I'm Anthrax." said the other, her tone equally void of emotion. "Richmond." He replied with a bow. Oh dear, should I have created pseudonym? Alabaster? No, sounds silly. Ammonite? Possibly too obscure. Maybe I should have used my last name, it does sound a bit more gothic . . . "We haven't seen you here before, is this your first time?" Anthrax asked, interrupting his thoughts. "Oh yes, yes it is." "They seem to be playing older stuff tonight, not a bad night to drop in. Would you care to join us in the lounge?" Richmond nodded and Anthrax's lips curled upwardly slightly, flashing the tips of a pair of fangs as she turned toward the door. Richmond followed as the girls effortless weaved their way through the dancing patrons towards the lounge. They sat on a vacant purple velvet settee while Richmond sat in an adjacent chair, the table in front of them covered with ashtrays and empty glasses. Candlelight and black fabric draped from the ceiling surrounded them. Ebola sat her glass down and fished a cigarette and lighter out of her purse while Anthrax and Richmond held on to their drinks. "So Richmond, what do you do?" Ebola asked, lighting her cigarette. She held up her free hand before he could reply. "Wait, let me guess. Computer programmer? No no, graphic designer." Richmond furrowed his brow in confusion. "Nearly every guy here works with computers," Anthrax explained. "It provides a relaxed office dress code and a pay check that supports the lifestyle." "Oh. Um, I work in IT." It felt odd saying that, as Richmond still had no idea what kind of work he was expected to do. Though it is quite nice working in the basement. "Ah." Anthrax took a sip of her drink, something dark red. "The bartender here is quite excellent, always coming up with some new delicious and deadly cocktail. I see you've gone with The Green Fairy." "I quite like absinthe." Richmond replied with perhaps too much enthusiasm. He was drinking a cocktail of the previously mentioned bartender's own design. While lounge was relaxing, Pandora's Box was primarily a dance club, and did not lend itself to melting sugar cubes into luminous green filled glasses, so he settled for a mixed drink that contained some of his favorite liquor. "Oh I'm sure you'll meet him eventually." Ebola said, rolling her eyes. Richmond looked quite confused. "Absinthe is the owner and operator of a S&M club nearby." Anthrax explained. "It's members only with the exception of a few events throughout the year." She looked him up and down. "You could probably become a member without too much difficulty." "Oh I see." Richmond wasn't quite sure how he was supposed to interpret that statement. "Um . . . are you members?" "Yes." Ebola replied, taking a drag from her cigarette. "Why, are you interested?" "Not now, maybe one day." Richmond shifted and took a sip of his drink. He noticed Anthrax looking him again and he suddenly wondered if maroon was too bright of a colour for the occasion. "This isn't just your first time here is it?" she asked. "It's your first time out a goth club." Richmond blinked. "Oh dear, was it obvious?" "A bit" she replied, her fangs once again peeking out over her near smile. "Oh. Well I am still feeling my way around the culture." he admitted "It does get associated with a lot of different things." Anthrax commented. "How did you become interested in the lifestyle?" Ebola asked, placing her cigarette on the closest ashtray. "Cradle of Fifth." he replied, hiding his grin with a sip of his drink. "May I ask you two what interested you in becoming goth?" "Sure," Ebola said with a shrug. "For Anthrax it was The Hunger, that film with David Bowie as a vampire and Susan Sarandon's lesbian scene. If that wasn't enough the moment we start the film she's shaking me asking 'What's this song? Who's that bloke in the cage??'" Anthrax glared at Ebola. "You're the one with the thing for David Bowie." She turned to Richmond, "My older brother was into the scene as well so I'd often watch him put on his make-up before he went out and developed an interest from there. As for Ebola, she fancied my brother." "That wasn't the only reason, you cow." She glared back at Anthrax before replying. "I always loved Lydia's outfits in Beetlejuice, I wanted to dress like her every day. But it was so distressing to see her so happy and normal looking at the end of the film." "Oh yes, I agree. Even if the song is very catchy." Richmond swirled his drink in his glass, watching the bright green whirlpool, wondering what question to ask next. Perhaps they know someplace that provides a more appropriate atmosphere for drinking absinthe . . . Ebola reached for her cigarette, noticing a man walking quickly past them. "Good Evening, Lord Catalyst." she called out. The man froze and turned around with a grimace on his face. He was dressed similar to Richmond, but had chosen to accessorize with a top hat and cane. "You two!" he said with a slight twitch, pointing his finger accusingly. He turned to Richmond dramatically, his cape swirling to match his movement. "Take heed my dear fellow! They are harpies, who will snatch away your soul!" He glared at the two girls on the settee. "I do not mean this as a compliment!" "Oh fuck off!" Ebola hissed. "Or shall we tell him why you're so uncomfortable around us?" Lord Catalyst jumped, his twitch increasing in intensity, and scuttled away. Both girls exchanged a look and a snicker before turning to Richmond. "I'm sorry Richmond. We . . . collect boys on occasion but tonight we were just looking for conversation," explained Anthrax. "Though you are very handsome.” Ebola added. "That's quite alright. I must say, you both have beautiful skulls." "Thank you," they replied in unison. They spent the rest of the evening chatting away in the lounge, occasionally getting up to dance when a song came on that the girls insisted Richmond must dance to. Soon the antique grandfather clock in the lounge struck three, signaling that the evening was at an end. "You've both been very helpful. Thank you." said Richmond as they exited the club, trying not to smile. "There isn't a goth rule again smiling, Richmond." Ebola said with a laugh. "Just don't make it a regular habit." After exchanging phone numbers and email addresses the group went their separate ways, with the promise to meet again soon. ----------------------------------- For the first couple of years they were always out together; going to clubs and films and tea parties in graveyards, meeting up to chat and shop and dance. Anthrax and Ebola quickly discovered Richmond had no trouble pulling, his shy demeanor combined with his theatrical delivery proved highly amusing and rather attractive to both goths and non-goths of all genders. Sometimes they would meet just to compare notes on their various conquests. As the years went on Richmond began to come out less and less, mainly communicating by email and only occasionally by phone. He would still show up to major events and travel with them for Whitby, but Richmond slowly withdrew into his own world as Anthrax and Ebola continued to venture out in to the night. ----------------------------------- Neither Ebola nor Anthrax had seen Richmond for months and after weeks of persistent emails and phone calls, he agreed to come out. Before heading to Pandora's Box they decided to meet up at a near by cafe, sitting in a booth in the back corner, for privacy as well as ambience. Always a gentleman, Richmond waited until the girls had settled before sitting down. Anthrax sat near the wall, dangling her fingers over the table candle as she waited for her tea bag to steep. Ebola stirred her coffee, watching the creamer swirl. Both waited silently, wanting Richmond to speak first. He stared at his coffee, watching the stream curl out of the mug for a while before speaking. "My old boss committed suicide. He just jumped out of a window one day." Anthrax gasped and Ebola jumped slightly. That wasn't the whole story of course, but Richmond didn't feel like explaining that the pensions at Reynholm Industries had been tampered with for years and if Denholm had chosen to think about it, there had probably been an easy way to fix them. But Denholm has always been impulsive and unpredictable, up until the last moments of his life. "The one that demoted you?" Ebola asked carefully. Richmond nodded, still not looking up at either of them. "I slept with him shortly before it happened. It wasn't anything serious; I knew that before we did anything. In a way it sort of felt like closure." Richmond took a slip of his coffee, continuing to look at the table. "I wasn't allowed to attend the funeral, but at the time it didn't really bother me. As the weeks went on though, I found myself becoming rather depressed." "How are they treating you at work?" asked Anthrax. "Oh much better, I'm allowed out during daytime hours now. I still don't talk to my coworkers much - don't really see a reason to. I'm just sort of . . . there." Richmond looked up, saw two pairs of sympathetic looking milky lenses, and looked back down. "I'm not quite sure what to do with myself now." Ebola looked at Anthrax, biting her lip slightly. They searched each other eyes for the right words. Today it was Anthrax's turn to have the epiphany, eyes widening as she turned to face Richmond once more. "Richmond, do you remember the last thing that came out of Pandora's Box?" Richmond looked up from his drink at Anthrax, allowing his frown to become one of confusion rather than despair. She reached across the table and took hold of one of his hands. "It was hope." Richmond blinked, his mouth forming a silent "Oh". Ebola reached across and took hold of his other hand, both girls squeezing before letting go. The friends finished their drinks in a comfortable silence. "I think it's the industrial room tonight my dears." Ebola said as she began to rise out of the booth. "We can dance the night away and count how many times someone samples Dune." "No complaints here." Richmond replied, waiting until Anthrax was out of the booth before standing, trailing behind them both as they walked toward the front. "Oh Richmond we must tell you about this ridiculous boy we met at The Black Spider." Anthrax turned as he held the cafe door open. "He looked a bit like you but lacked your depth. When we asked him what his favorite song was he said it was Gary Numan's Dominion Day." Richmond sneered slightly as he followed her out. "First time?" "First and last, thankfully." And so the friends set out to drink and dance, extending their arms towards the infinite possibilities that lay ahead of them, capturing the night in their pale hands.

#the mighty boosh #mighty boosh #boosh #richmond avenal #anthrax #ebola #anthrax & ebola #the it crowd #it crowd

[eryiss]

A Night On The Cobbles: The streets of Magnolia have always been beautiful, more so in the dead of night. After a day of drinking and celebrating Makarov's birthday, Freed and Laxus find themselves alone on the cobbled streets of their home town, and get caught up in the beauty of it. [Fraxus Oneshot]

This is just a fluffly little birthday gift for @furidojasutin. I hope you have a really nice day, and even if you are working, hopefully this’ll make you smile. 

You can read it on FanFiction, Archive of Our Own or under the cut. Hope you enjoy ^.^

A Night On The Cobbles

"Hey Freed," The words were more slurred than spoken. "Yer pretty."

Adoring a soft smile, Freed looked towards Laxus as he slightly stumbled down the cobbled streets of Magnolia. It was early in the morning, and the two men were returning home from the guildhall after Makarov's birthday party, an event that had begun early in the afternoon and had still not lost any momentum. It had, however, lost a lot of alcohol from the guildhall's seemingly endless supply, which explained Laxus' drunken state.

His walk was accompanied by a cautious sway, his clothes were slightly unfurled and messed, and his expressions were less restrained in what he allowed other people to see. Laxus rarely got this drunk, or drank at all, as he preferred to be in control of himself all the time. Freed was the same, but couldn't help but enjoy the state his fiancé was in.

"I'm glad you think so," Freed smiled as he spoke.

"Well I do," Laxus mumbled, taking a step towards Freed. He bumped their shoulders together, possibly without meaning to. "Don't say it enough."

Freed only chuckled in response, placing a hand on Laxus' chest to balance him when he stumbled slightly. Laxus looked directly at him and, although Freed couldn't ignore the strong smell of beer on his breath, the almost goofy smile painted across the blonde's face made Freed grin. He helped his fiancé find his balance and continued to walk towards their shared home.

Neither man saw Magnolia in this state often. In the early morning, the cobbled streets and endless canals were illuminated only by the flickering lights of the streetlamps, which were reflected off the water. It was almost silent, other than the cold breeze that ruffled through the trees and the sounds of boots against the streets. It was calming and quite beautiful, offering both men the chance to see a side of their hometown that was often hidden.

Without warning, an arm wrapped itself around Freed's shoulders and pulled him a little closer. The rune-mage smiled, deciding to let his drunken fiancé have his fun instead of fighting him. They weren't the most openly affectionate couple in public, but there could always be exceptions.

They walked without speaking for a few moments, enjoying the silent company they could give each other. Their wedding was soon approaching and, with that, came a large amount of stress and busyness as they made sure their plans were still in place. The party was a night they had designated for relaxing and having a good time, which had been achieved. Freed intended to make the most of the night, including enjoying a slightly zig-zagging walk home with his intoxicated lover.

"You fucking…" Laxus began, through frowned, seemingly having forgotten what he wanted to say. "Fucking… kicked ass tonight."

Freed chuckled at the volume at which Laxus spoke. "How so?"

"That arm wrestling torna…" Again, his words drifted off and he frowned. "Contest thing."

"I made it to the third round, Laxus," Freed chucked, side eyeing Laxus when he stumbled again. He didn't fall, having tripped over his own feet, so Freed didn't move to help him. "I hardly won."

"Did better than me," Laxus grinned, and Freed guessed it was meant to be out of pride.

The arm-wrestling tournament had been one of the ways Makarov had 'spiced up' his party. It was tournament style and, the earlier you lost, the more shots you had to take as forfeit. On the apparently random matchings, Laxus had been pitted against Elfman in his first match and had lost against him. Freed too had been defeated by Elfman, but they had gone against each other after Freed had defeated both Reedus and Natsu; his hand narrowly missed getting scorched when the dragon slayer demanded a rematch.

Freed had been made to drink three shots of whatever brew Mirajane had found, Laxus had taken nine. During the shots, Laxus had complained about his grandfather making him lose on purpose. The old man was laughing too much to deny it.

"My champion," Laxus continued. He swayed into Freed again, making both men stumble at the force of his movement.

"I didn't win, Laxus," Freed reminded, smile soft.

"Doesn't fuckin' matter," Laxus near shouted in Freed's ear, making the rune-mage wince a little. "You tried ta- ta reclaim my honour and shit by beatin' Elf."

"Reclaim your honour?" Freed chuckled. "I wasn't aware you were a chivalrous drunk."

"I ain't chiva-chivalr…" He squinted in thought. "Whatever it is you said," The blonde stumbled over his words, and his gaze was directed towards the uneven ground to make sure he didn't also stumble over the cobbles. "Read it in one of ya books. Started readin' some of 'em when you were on that mission a couple weeks ago. Don't mind do ya?"

"Of course not," Freed assured him. "Which one?"

The blonde stopped walking, making Freed do the same. The rune-mage looked at Laxus as his face scrunched up a little, obviously in thought. It was an idiosyncrasy that Laxus only fully showed when either he was drunk, or his defences were down. Although, knowing Laxus as well as he did, Freed had one day realised that Laxus could never fully hide it when he was thinking, as his forehead crunched up slightly. But seeing him show how deep in thought he was – even if it was over something as small as a book – was incredibly endearing.

Laxus didn't see that Freed was watching him, instead putting all his efforts into trying to remember what the book was called. It was good, the spine was red, it had one of those built in bookmarks made of silk, and the page numbers were at the bottom of the page and underlined a little. That was all he could remember.

"Don't know," He eventually admitted, almost pouting. "Set in the past. Loads of castles. About a knight."

"I'm sure we can find it in the morning," Freed assured him. "But right now, I think we should get home and sleep."

Laxus seemed happy enough with that, and made up the small distance that parted the two of them. Again, the blonde stood a little closer to Freed than what was normal, but the rune mage couldn't find himself annoyed by it. His drunken fiancé had slightly different boundaries than when he was sober, and the buzz of alcohol flowing through Freed made him less bothered by the occasional bump against his side that Laxus' swaying had caused.

As they walked, Freed found himself contemplating the idea of making late night walks a regular thing. It was an idea that would probably be forgotten in the morning, but there was something pleasant about walking through the empty streets in the dead of night, with nothing but the crickets to fill the silence and the clear water of the canals to guide him.

Though, he suspected the good company was what made the moment truly perfect.

Laxus, now content that his book confusion would be handled, had taken to looking upwards at the sky. The skies were cloudless, giving them both an unhindered view of the shining stars and the almost full moon. Both men lead busy lifestyles – busier now more than ever as they had to balance wedding planning with working – so moments to stop and view the stars were rare, even if they often found themselves in places opportune to do so on their missions.

In that moment, Laxus decided he wouldn't miss this opportunity. They had planned for the party to be their night away from stress, and that would continue until they got home and slept. And what was more stress free than looking at the sky?

Freed frowned slightly as Laxus suddenly turned on his heels and walked towards the canal. He quickened his pace to keep up with his fiancé, honestly unsure if something had entered the blonde's mind that would justify him walking straight into the cold water. His concern for this doubled when he saw Laxus shrug off his coat, which he had actually chosen to wear properly rather than as a makeshift cape.

"Laxus," Freed spoke with a slight about of caution. "What are you doing?"

"Don't worry," Laxus dismissed, raising a hand to the air as if it would somehow remove all the worried his fiancé had. It didn't.

"Don't go into the water, Laxus," Freed said, and Laxus' head snapped towards him with a large frown, almost offended at the suggestion. That was good, at least he wouldn't end up giving himself a cold from being a drunk idiot. "What are you doing then?"

"Just wanted a few minutes before we get home, y'know."

Although not yet understanding what his fiancé meant, Freed didn't intervene as Laxus slowly moved down so that he was sitting on the cobbles, his legs overhanging the ledge of the street so that his feet were a few inches from the top of the still water. Once seemingly comfortable, he brought his coat to his lap and looked over his shoulder towards Freed with an expectant expression, clearing inviting him to join.

Freed did as silently instructed, making sure not to stand on Laxus' coat as he made his way down. The moment he shifted so that he was beside Laxus, the blonde rested against him and moved so that his head found a pillow in Freed's shoulder.

They sat silently for a few moments, now able to hear and see the ripples across the water that were caused by the wind. It sent a chill through the rune mage, and he glanced towards his fiancé to see if he had felt it too. He still didn't understand why removing his coat had been integral to them sitting down and enjoying a quiet moment together. But, as Laxus didn't seem too affected by the cold, the rune mage decided not to question it and take Laxus' hand in his own, bringing it so it rested over his thigh.

"Oh, shit," Laxus whispered, and Freed looked towards him.

He looked down to his coat and moved slightly, managing to drape the large coat over both his and Freed's shoulders. Freed smiled a little, adjusting the coat so it better covered his side, before shuffling a little closer towards Laxus. This was a nice moment, he could deal with a little chill if this was the outcome.

"I'm really excited," Laxus mumbled, almost silently. Freed looked towards him, seeing his cheeks tinged red.

"About what?" Freed asked, voice equally soft.

"The wedding," Laxus' gaze was still trained on the water, and he dipped the toe of his boot against the surface, making rippled emerge from it. "Its just like… every time I think about it, I get all… all fucking bubbly. Like, there's something in me and its just exploding every time I think about how I'm gonna be yer husband, y'know.

"Like, I ain't saying it right, but I get it. There's like a magic in me, a new kinda magic thing, and its superpowered when I think about it. Like I ate a whole fucking thunderstorm but it's an emotion, that make sense?"

"It does," Freed whispered, smiling. "I feel the same way."

He rested his head against Laxus', watching the ripples as they expanded across the water and got larger and larger. Laxus shuffled a little closer towards him, letting out a small, possibly drunken sound of appreciation. Freed smiled, shifted his head a little so he could press his lips against Laxus' crown, before looking over the long expanse of water.

Under the coat, Laxus pulled his arm from Freed's lap and wrapped it around Freed's shoulders. He turned into the rune-mage's shoulder and kissed it, a reply to the kiss he felt against his own head. He then slowly turned towards Freed, who was illuminated by the stars behind him. His slightly pale skin glowed under the moonlight, making him look beautiful. Laxus found himself wondering how he had gotten so lucky to be with the man.

"Yer amazing," He mumbled, nuzzling into Freed slightly before looking back to him. "Love ya."

"Love you too, Laxus," Freed smiled, pressing his lips to Laxus' forehead. "But we should probably get going."

"Really? Like being here," Laxus mumbled, nuzzling further into his fiancé.

"I'm sure you do. And I like being here as well," Freed patted his fiancé on the leg, trying to ignore the slight ticking sensation that occurred when Laxus' hair ran against his neck. "But I also like sharing a bed with you. And that has less chance of us getting a cold, I imagine."

Nodding slightly, Laxus unwrapped himself from around Freed's shoulder and let his coat drop from their shoulders. He brought his foot back up form over the ledge and slowly started to climb up, resorting to using Freed's shoulder to lean on as he did so. The alcohol made the action harder than it needed to be, but managing to make himself upright without falling face first into the canal was a victory in his drunken mind.

He presented a hand to Freed, who took it carefully. The rune mage found himself dragged up and straight into his fiance's chest with more force than either expected; apparently Laxus also had a lack of depth perception when drunk.

It didn't stop him from laughing though. Freed joined in a moment later.

"You're very funny, Laxus," Freed chuckled, patting the blonde on the shoulder. "But again, we really should get home. Because we both know you're going to crash out in less than an hour, and I doubt you'd enjoy waking up in the middle of an alleyway with the hangover you'll enviably end up having."

"You wouldn't carry me home?" Laxus frowned, to which Freed chuckled.

"No," Freed smirked, though they both knew that if the situation were to happen, he would get Laxus home somehow. "I think a night with a trash bag as a pillow could do your ego good."

"Hey!" Laxus practically yelled, before crossing his arms with a drunken pout. "Thought you said you were my champion?"

"I did," Freed agreed. "Hence why I'll make sure you crash on a bed, not on a pavement."

Seemingly placated by this, Laxus nodded and started to walk towards their shared home. Freed smiled a little, decided not to wait for Laxus to realise he had forgotten his coat and instead picked it up for him, and then joined his fiancé again. The blonde wrapped an arm around Freed, deciding that the body heat that he emitted was more appealing than the warmth of his coat.

Freed took a moment to appreciate the man who held him. The man who he was going to marry. The drunken fool who had now taken to humming a random tune that had entered his head, who had been less and less subtle with his adoring looks towards his fiancé as the night had progressed, who had been cheering louder for his fiancé during the arm-wrestling contents than anyone else had throughout the entire night. This was the man he was going to spend the rest of his life with, and Freed loved the very thought of it.

And soon it would be reality. Less than a quarter of the year left until he would meet his fiancé at the end of an aisle, making him his husband. So close, and Freed found himself willing the days to pass quickly so he could experience it.

But, just because he was excited for his wedding and wanted the day to come quicker than anything he'd wanted in his life, he still could enjoy the moments of romance between them that occurred before that. And a slightly cold walk to their home after getting drunk because of Makarov's match-fixing that led to a heart to heart beside a canal either man could have easily fallen into certainly was a moment of romance in Freed's mind.

"Hey Freed," Laxus slurred again, looking towards Freed with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. Freed smiled.

"Yes, Laxus?"

"Yer pretty."

A laugh leaving his lips at the repeated statement, Freed brought his fiance's head down and pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss. The smile didn't leave his lips as they started to walk again, and the rune-mage shifted a little closer to his fiancé.

This was the man he loved and would spend the rest of his life with. He wouldn't have it any other way.

#fraxus #freed justine #Laxus Dreyar #freed x laxus #furidojasutin #fanfic #fairy tail