@notmalevolent

      Oh if looks could kill… (well, technically, theoritcally, it could kind of do that if he wished) 

      He couldn’t define what was exasperating him more right now; the fact that he lost this damn bet, that shit eating grin on Bixlow’s face or his new duty for the day. In the long run it would probably be the latter, but all three options were certainly succeeding in getting him into a state of disgruntlement. 

      Freed realized that this was entirely on himself, however. Evergreen had even warned him not to accept the conditions but he’d been on a high horse, overestimating his own pokerface skills in this regard and underestimating Bixlow’s in the process. Now he wished that he would have listened to Ever, not that he’d confess this out loud. Why did he have to get tempted by his own competitiveness and the thought of having his best friend in the very situation he himself was in right now? Oh goddammit… 

      There was no going back, though. Whatever he would have to endure, and he could only guess that it would be a couple of unnecessary tasks, more self-satisfied grins and the possible attempt to unnerve him further, he was going to do it. He would take this loss and its inevitable consequences with all the pride he had, no matter how humiliating it would get. Backing down on the conditions was never an option. 

      Admittedly, the one or other threatening sentence lingered on the tip of his eloquent tongue, though they never got to slip past his lips. Instead, after taking a slow breath in order to grasp other thoughts, his lips curved upwards in a clearly faked manner. Unsettling almost, as the smile looked way too bittersweet. Alright. “Good. Let’s get this over with.”

meme // accepting // @sinshckled

     “It’s a natural talent.”

meme // accepting // @xfulmen

     “You can say it, Laxus. I look awful.” Actually, he felt as though everything about him could be described with this very adjective. His deep vox came out in a croaky tone, beads of sweat were littering his body and made his green strands of hair stick to his face uncomfortably. The bags that had appeared under his eyes were impossible to miss. Not to mention how  w e a k  he was feeling in the condition he was finding himself in. He was so very unsightly at this very moment - handsome features distorted and revealing pure vulnerability only. Not that he thought Laxus would care about how good he was looking right now, and he would like to think that he was healthily confident in his own looks and not quite conceited - but it was still bugging him, somehow.

      Greenish blue gaze had tiredly shifted to meet the dragon slayer’s orange hues. They looked so much more lively than his own must be looking right now. The fact that his appearance wasn’t in best shape right now was one thing to feel unpleasant about - however, it was worse to have this constant feeling of weakness accompany him. To have anybody, especially Laxus, witness him in such a pathetic state. The pain he went through as his tension-type headaches didn’t seem to want to pass for another while was almost of no importance compared to the feel of being forced rest, to feel so utterly useless.

      He despised being sick. He despised every single factor about it, which is one reason why he attempted to take care of his health to the best of his abilities. This time though, this wasn’t just about usual sickness. He’d been accompanied by headaches of such sort ever since the magic centered in his right eye, and his mastery of Dark Écriture, had become apparent. It had gotten stronger the more he utilized and extended this magic, until it reached a point at which his body and mind must have gotten so used to the pressure of centered magic and the headaches coming with it occasionally that they became less strong as time went on, and less noticable.

      Nowadays they hardly ever occurred anymore… So when they hit him as hard as they had a few days ago, triggering all sorts of other symptoms such as fever, Porlyuscia (and his friends) had immediately assigned him to examination and a bed in the guild’s own infirmary.

      Freed just dearly hoped that it would begin to pass soon… Very soon. He wasn’t certain how long he would be able to take this feeling of weakness without it getting to his mind even more, and he wasn’t able how concerning this entire issue would become if it remained.

      This magic was part of him. It was part of him as an individual, it was part of his job, part of his life. It wasn’t a magic to be proud of exactly, created with the direct aim to cause agony in any form, but it was part of who he was.

      There had been silence for the moment he’d been lost in thought. Lying here, exposed and with nothing for him to do than to wait and rest, he wasn’t certain how successful he was being at keeping his eyes from showing anything that might hint some of his thoughts. Even though it was just Laxus and him right now he didn’t wish to raise more concern or appear more vulnerable than he must be looking like anyway.

      So when more croaked out words left his dry lips, his eyes had found the blond’s once more. Despite everything… it was still a welcomed change from all the silence to have him bear him company. He truly appreciated his presence. Always.

  “It will pass. Did… anything worth telling happen today? How are Evergreen and Bixlow doing?” He had told them that they could very well go on a job without him, or with Laxus. Just because he was sick didn’t mean that they had to linger around him the entire time. If anything, the last thing he wanted was to keep their minds concerned and be a burden.

      But after all, it still reminded him of how much they all cared for one another. It truly was a so very unreplacable feeling - something to keep safe and dear.