Okay, so I wrote this completely on whim, its fucking long and not finished!
Warning: Homophobia, self-hatred, anxiety, parental abuse.
This chapter... was originally going to be 14K words long.
There were many things I could regret doing, could being key, rarely I allow such focus on things unchangeable. Decisions can make the man, but they hold no bearing on one who does not regret nor contemplate them. I consider myself a fighter, not one to ponder over the rational, logic induced issues because all I want to do is rely on instinct so that I can survive the best I can. Maybe my Dad shaped me in the way that it only seemed irrelevant to help me, even if it has yet to work.
Recklessness is something I have been frequently told is not an asset, least of all to me as I have a higher than usual destructive force. Listening to other people is not something I'm good at either, family or not the thought of being controlled or dictated proper responses to a situation by someone else is not a thing I can abide by. Some people want rigidity a strict system a sanitary principle that falls for all people. I cannot, will not, accept that bases of living. I enjoy to much the nuinaces of life, even if it occasionally causes me physical pain. Though I have been told physical pain often leads to the path of emotional I don't care to hear that.
I wanted to regret my actions. They were almost betrayal, as close as I could get without actually solidifying a traitor status and becoming a dark wizard. So close to dismantling my guild with reckless abandon just because I did something while thinking only of myself. An inclination leading to my own dismantling. Guilt could cover nothing of what I felt as I involved myself deeper. Yet, even as a guilty conscious grows within me everyday, I cannot bare to ignore the elation I feel, the serenity of comfort. The disquiet of secrecy hidden by self-indulgence. I had never desired to look myself in the mirror and wonder about my own existence as good or bad, i had always considered myself the former no matter the circumstance. Now there was no assurity in my actions, certainly not in my mind.
Can it be labeled as bad, or immoral if it feels comforting, if there is joy and pleasure in the secrecy? Igneel, my father, a man- not a man, whom I could base myself off of, who I could depend upon to have a moral compass that was reliable and just. He had taught me many years ago as a young child that people -humans, often held each other to moral equivalents. That it was a ridiculous bases for a lifeform that held intricate patterns and thoughts for each individual. People were of a different opinion, that all should be held in the same regard and if there was a difference in the balance that person should bare a punishment. I had always tried to understand, being of an entirely dragon based education.
But I soon found, quickly, that human nature was not something fully comprehensible to someone like me. No matter how many times I attempt to trick myself into thinking otherwise something primal and purely instinctual declines. I can no longer ignore that, I can no longer play that I pretend to agree with twisted human bases for normality. So I have decided not to think, or speak, or look towards it unless it is with someone of the same mindset as I.
As life is colourful, I met someone who had such a worldview. Which is what lead to such an intricate moral discussion with myself in the first place. He being older than me, was more experienced, and though he was raised by humans held an unusual detachment to the commonalities presented with most. Was it due to his parentage? No certainly not, his father was a man who held firm belief in social structure and his mother had long since passed. Was it due to him being of a dark guild -and by extension himself being a dark wizard? No, though it was more likely, I knew that too was not the answer. Nor do I expect to ever figure it out, its not as if its vastly important knowledge anyway.
All I am inclined to care about is less theoretical, and more emotionally based intelligence.
Fiore is much different then where I grew up. Almost completely considering the lack of trees, marsh, mountains and dragons. Considering there is also other people around instead of being encompassed by solitude it acts around me as an entirely obscure world;. Albeit one I have grown accustomed too. In fact, my parentage and lack of experience involving other people it is surprising that I should value friendships and family as closely as I do.
That being said, my guild being my family does not mean there are no disagreements between me and them. Although they remain blissfully unaware of my inner begrudging with them. It is not believed that I am capable of holding my tongue, but given my opinions of the rules and regulations governing both my guild and the magic world in general it is shocking how restraintful I am.
That rule being a blatant denial of something non shameful, that needn't be forbidden as it affects no one but the person breaking the law. I being one of those individuals, and as such I believe it prudent to state that it is in no way harmful to me, or anyone else, in fact I enjoy the feeling of freedom I now indulge in. Even if keeping the secret of my rebellious nature from my guild eats at my conscious.
I simply enjoy the company of other men, romantically. Which is considered a shameful act by the laws of Zentopia and the Magic Council, for reasons I have never understood, nor will ever understand. It is nye impossible to find someone who will willingly bend the law so that they may be with the ones they truly care for in this instance -the punishment being severe.- I am one of very few. Still I find it necessary for my own sake.
However, even with limited connections, and even more limited space I have found someone. I know for certain that I love him, I can even be certain that he loves me though he is more aloof about it then I. So even if he is a member of a Dark Guild I cannot fathom giving him up for the sake of appeasing my own guilt or the law of injustice. Morally, by human standards I am wrong, I am sinful. But by the standards of which I have grown up believing and was taught I cannot think that of myself.
Of course I can tell no one. So no one knows, not even Happy, my best friend and cat whom I care so deeply for that I would kill to protect him. No one knows but me and the man I love.
It was a few weeks after a hushed meeting that I stumbled across a rather bad, uncivilized, and insulting impersonator. I was under the illusion of searching for my long missing father, a good enough reason to be wondering about with only my feline companion and a sack on my back when I ran into a young girl around my age searching for something. I don't really know what it was, but she was excitable and fun to be around, an adventurous intellectual that was simply to compatible with me not to have formed a type of hesitant friendship. Besides she did buy Happy and I a whole two meals worth of food, so it would simply be unkind of me not to offer something in return.
Knowing my guild she would be welcomed with open arms, as she was a wizard without an emblem I knew she must have been searching for a guild to join. It was mere coincidence that she happened to idolize Fairytail, though beneficial to her that I was a member. Her heart matched the spirit of my family so it wasn't as if she was unsuited, and I had credibility so they wouldn't reject my advocating for her installment.
My concern for Lucy is minimal, she is a capable wizard as far as I can see, so I'm not to worried about her getting caught up in a fight -in fact it would probably only make it more fun- but our Guild is not exactly conventional. Mira at least took a liking to her, which would be beneficial seen as Mirajane knows everything about the family, and many more things about the Guild on a fundamental level considering her previous S-rank status -that no one talks about publicly.- Hopefully she can get her up to speed on the various fundamentals on each guild member.
Being flashed by Grey on her first day couldn't have been pleasant, but in fairness the man did deserve it. Interested in men I may be, but Grey, to be grossly simplistic was simply not my type, considering my present boyfriend- Grey is a lanky unskilled child in comparison. Not that it was entirely just to compare Fullbuster to my rather boorish man. I could certainly cite on all of my fingers and toes the many things upon my partner's body that were bigger and better than Grey, though not a competition, definitely not, as the Ice Mage would be humiliated. And no one would long for that -except maybe sometimes myself- my fellow is a man of extreme self confidence and I do delight and forcefully wrenching him off his pedestal every once in awhile.
Lucy seemed to get along fine with most everyone in the Guild, though I know for certain that Loki may have a few running issues with classification, the man has always been sensitive with Celestial mages. A mystery yet unsolved by most of our guild members, though there is a rumour spreading that Bixslow -a knight like man that works under Freed -the strongest Enchantment/script magic user in the guild- is aware of why, but I hold that to only be a rumour. The Legion -as Freed and Bixslow, and their third member Evergreen are referred to are secretive at best and elusive at worst, how the knight would know of Loki's problem is nearly impossible in its improbability.
My consolation to the dramatic flare that continued to be my guild is my satisfaction in my date nearly two days ago. Something I would brag about could any of my Guildmates be trusted to not go snooping about. Fact is, none of them, not even Erza could ignore the allure of gossip and would no doubt find a way to follow me and uncover my boyfriend's identity, which is not permissible. Yet even as it had only been a meager two days of absence I find myself longing for his company, pinning for his attention. A stab of pride interjects my lonely longing and instead a necessary following brawl erupts due to my own conflict of mind.
Over the month my thoughts linger on selfish action. I want for him to contact me, I desire to speak to him in turn to share and relish in that rare connection I have found myself in unlike any other. We can not speak in frequent, often he is positioned far from me, and I cannot escape for long enough a duration to visit him. Still I ignore the crushing weight in my chest and raise from bed to meet with my friends. Sore are my muscles, the rise out of comforting padding a difficult one as a pleasant yet stiff set to my limbs reminds me of the job my team and I just returned from.
My smile disappears when I see in my mind the memory of my Guild's broken walls and crumpled structure. I have seen many a desolate, but to the heart I bare, my home being disrespected and tarnished so thoroughly is nothing short of devastating. I have a deep rooted connection to the place of my upbringing, I think because of the people. Whoever had sought to dismantle a great Guild as my own I see no other root then revenge. Anger is something so easily accessible far superior to sorrow or apprehension. Anger is only a want of conflict and that is a primal urge not clouded by tears. I can accept rage as my response because sadness at the events unfolding only bring myself problems.
Phantomlord is said to be a repressive Guild bordering themselves near the precipice of dark and light law. Fairytail having been at odds with them for so many unproductive years it is difficult for me to remember when the rivalry ignited. Should it serve as their legacy a pitiful self-destruction?
I walk heavily to the hall, and it feels as though the stone slips under my feet, it seemed balance had lost all meaning that could have been the weighted frustration in my gut stewing close to the weakness I decline to fully acknowledge.
My eyes stray and I see my friends gathered around the ancient sakura tree, various expressions tone their faces, but it is clear that they all display the same variant of emotion. Fear. Some cry, others are still as stone, many cannot hold in their shocked gasps, a few look on angrily at the trunk. I run down the hill quickly, whatever had scared them so was not a threat, but a horror.
I find myself to be grossly right. I wish I wasn't. There displayed for all to regard, the trophies on a mantle, hang people I have known all my life. Beaten with sickly yellow and purple blemishes, torn clothes made now to look as if frail cloth hanging limply on each. Their chests all rise and fall, I take comfort in that. Still my head feels light and my fingernails bite spitefully into my palms. They are people who deserve more respect then to hang limp from a tree, bolted there as if they were only a last minute consideration. Levi appears to have gotten the brunt of the attack, her face and abdomen showcasing for blaring bruises against her pale complexion. Near where the Phantom Emblem flares out in its obscurity.
My ears and practise in knowledge acknowledge the man before I myself do, moving to the side as the Master interrupts the spewing feelings around the tree, magic power radiating from his being in the form of a holy white light blazing around his figure. In familiarity it calms everyone around me, and I veer away from hostility in place with a cold resolution.
Fixed in his own anger I hear Gramps's declaration of war.
Battle is more instinct then tactical, I could never formulate a formation when fighting an enemy, my body moves in recognition and I blindly follow it. That is rare to change, maybe if I fight against a powerful enemy with the ability to best my raw magic prowess, Dragonslayer or not, I wasn't expecting Black Steel to present much of a challenge in combat. It was not as if his skills were unknown, but only that he was lacking in a fundamental that I had long believed one could not fight in earnest without. I was proven wrong as his blows each had the strength of a man possessed by only mental fortitude. Still he was obviously fighting on a point of disability, just not the type I had expected when having heard of him.
I could have fought longer, I could've, but with Gramps being so ill, a green over his skin, and a slow pulse, all anger fueling my actions had fled me. For the first time in many years I was confronted by the blunt reality of battle, and stood confused in the middle of the area. Confidence escaping per each breath, fear settled in my stomach, overwhelming in how strange it was. I saw logic in Erza's warnings to retreat. Then I heard a rasp from above along with a deep undertone.
"-aken the girl Lucy." Ignoring the unusual lapse in assurity, I face one of the lackeys licking his wounds and felt a spitting fire like the fanned flames of embers begin to glow. No one else from my guild would get hurt, I was not allowing it no matter my state, this was about my friends in danger, personal problems did not matter in times like these. I am the dragonslayer of fairytail it is my job to wear myself thin so that no one else has too.
I am in need of arms around me, as I curl into my blankets and smother myself with the pillow in a poor attempt of comfort. It wasn't like I was weak from the fight with Gajeel, we had barely even gotten started before Erza had to pull us out and I had to rescue Lucy from their guildmaster. But oddly, I want a type of comfort, i want to not have to think about what emotions creep up on me and just let it melt away in the arms of another. I long to beat the faces in of every single Phantomlord member, but at the same time I also just be with my boyfriend and hear him mock his own father as I tell stories of how gross Grey is or how scary Erza can be when cake is involved.
I long for a battle where I can bare my all, lunge forward with no restraints as I brutally enact revenge onto the people who destroyed my home and humiliated my guild. As my fists get blooded and my head rings, my body soaring with adrenaline.
Yet, I also want to just listen to the grumpy voice, to the dry sardonic humour of Laxus. Laughing at his near continual moping, as I get in return a brutal glare and a passionate 'shut up kiss' as he looms over me.
I've never wanted for anyone else to face my battles for me too see another take apart what I wished to destroy. But I have never truly seen him at work, and in honesty I want to watch as Phantom Lord a Guild so famed for their unabashed dark side get taken apart by a single man from a dark affiliation. Satisfaction at their ironic dismantlement is all I can think of. Even so, there is something about the thought of watching him tare down so large that provokes erotic subtext in my mind.
I don't want to know how fierce I must be blushing right now. I look towards the communication orb huddled in a hidden part of my closest. Strictly speaking I am not supposed to have one, but Laxus had gotten me it as a present so that we could communicate whenever I felt I needed him -or he needed me.- Though he is the more aloof one of the two of us so I don't see that happening anytime soon. I did have a streak of not having used it for simple conversation since I received it, somewhat a matter of pride. Though i can deny no longer, I just want to hear his voice. It is new to me to be under the affliction of so many quarrelling emotions that I need someone to express them too. Happy is far away keeping Lucy company as he is the nicest of felines, so I do have a unique opportunity.
I touch my hand on the orb, it glows brightly like a fire regardless of the cold sensation not having left my palm. "Laxus" I speak to it, in response it lights in a pale yellow. Impatience grasps me, but anger and irritation are nothing new, what is new is the gnawing sensation of desperation crawling under the surface. The orb makes a clicking noise before I see blond hair, a scar, and confusion.
"Natsu?" It is unusual, I can't blame him. Still I huff at his questioning tone, its not that strange for me to contact him surely?
"What am I not allowed to talk to you or something?" In regards to recent events my temper is more volatile, I suppose I hadn't considered it would affect the way I spoke to Laxus of all people. Being a complete jerk of course he seems to get a rise out of it and smirks wide. Good thing he did so before I started to feel guilty, I can mentally punch him in the face without qualm now.
"Of course pinkie. What's the occasion?" A simple, unloaded question turns out to be my mental undoing. I feel the humiliation before it even starts, a deep sinking in my abdomen as a prickle nicks my eyes. Caving in my chest painfully as sweat gathers on my palms despite the cold. I'm sobbing within moments, broken loud things that are horrible and ridiculous, undignified and unmanly. The pride I upheld strikes to my core in a painful reminder that this shouldn't be happening. Regardless the memories remain my home destroyed, my friends attacked and injuried unjustly, Lucy being kidnapped and mistreated, and the weightful feeling of having to deal with it all.
"It's just to much!" I am crying to Laxus, my mind reasons, I should be strong, but I am not. "Master's hurt real bad! And Phantom wants Lucy and Levi, Droy, and Jet are hurt real bad and I want to beat them all up! B-b-ut they- I feel like I can't take a step without having to fix it and it's just to much Laxus! I just want to be angry! I don't want to feel all these complicated things!" Pathetic, truthfully I had never thought I would break down. I don't want to look at Laxus, not while feeling so helpless.
"Magnolia right?" I hear, nothing like I expected. Dumbly I nodd still trying to get rid of the streaming tears. "Natsu, you can't let yourself think that every burden is meant for you. There are things that other people need to fix and you can't always be there to save the day. Give yourself a rest." I expected him to mock me, but when I look down there is compassion fixed in his eyes and a small smile so miniscule only I would be able to site its appearance. This is the man I fell in love with. Even still there is a complex shift in his visage a type of pull at his eyes that convey something deeper of which I do not know.
My guilt is mostly quelled, but I know for certain I could have saved Shadow Gear from their ambush if I had been there. If only I had been more vigilant and seen that Phantom would never be happy with simple destruction.
"Wizards get hurt Natsu. Are you going to stress everytime a guild member gets a bandaid?" Had I said that out loud in a borish outcry of self-guilt? "You said Phantom. As in PhantomLord?" 'uh-huh,' I mutely answer. "Do you think that all emotion is bad?" I shake myself. I hadn't really considered it like that, maybe that was the brunt version of it all. Which if narrowed down sounds really stupid. I don't like considering other emotions because they are so much more unattractive while anger is simple and plain no greater understanding or hardened thinking needed. That doesn't mean I don't feel anything but anger, no matter how much easier that would be. After all, I love Laxus, and I relish in that. I am crying, so I can feel sadness even if I wish to be rid of it.
"It's just easier to feel angry." I shrug, I really hadn't considered it reluctance. Its stupid though, I can see that even if I'm not incredibly bright.
"What do you feel right now?" I cannot tell him the truth because its selfish and meak, not at all what a recognized strong wizard should feel in times of distress. He quirks his brow a stern expression making way from his earlier fond smile. "Be honest Natsu." He knows me stupidly well, and I both respect and resent that.
I play with my pants because I don't want to look him in the eye, and maybe I am pouting a little. "I- I feel… I want… Like I feel that I want…" I freeze for a moment. I can't say it, no matter how simple it is, there is a complexity to my battling pride and the feelings engendered as well as the instability of my own ability to bare the brunt of any emotion other than unadulterated rage.
What I feel is loneliness in a guild composed purely of family. What I feel is strain from having been thrust into the turbents of one fight to another just to appease some expectation that has fallen on my shoulders years ago. What I feel is coiling desire for a release. What I feel is a sorrow at my own self for having been embezzled with all these colliding feelings.
What I want is a moment to figure out exactly who Natsu Dragneel is. Not the fighter. Not the reckless one who charges into battle and loves his family. Someone deeper. The small little things that compose me, what I love to eat - my favourite meal, my colour of choice, what I like to wear, a hobby that is all mine to relish in. I long for something purely of myself, an understanding that I can center on when my fists aren't speaking for me.
With Laxus that type of discovery seems possible.
"I want to know who I am." This time I feel more magnitude to my words, not falsely said, but of pure desire that I know lays within me. Eighteen years old with only a hand full of things to define myself by, I need something more than that. My guild can see what I show them, the man personified as the Salamander, but I want to know who I really am. Discover what it means to have a thing I genuinely enjoy doing, to find my favourite flower, to seek out what food is best to my taste buds, a smell that reaches out to me. Does Laxus think I'm strange?
I look to him, he laughs lightly. "Oh is that all?" I know its not a dilemma many people have, although some do have times when they cannot find importance in themselves, that isn't the issue with me. My boyfriend is not someone who could be called sentimental, he isn't really a great listener either. But he is understanding, sympathetic, and -brutally- honest. He gets amused easily, but is generally non offensive in his manner towards other people unless they intentionally rile him. In a word: He's decent. I don't know if I'm even that, probably given my disposition. Here his understanding kicks in and a perturbed expression marrs his face. "How do you mean?" I snort at him.
"Just, self-discovery I guess. I want to know what I like and stuff, what makes me… me, not just the fighter who destroys things, but Natsu as a person. Who am I?" Laxus looks irritated, but his grey eyes won't meet mine and I can't tell why.
"You don't see anything but the fighter?" He seems so unnaturally pained as he speaks that I want to go over to where he is and ease his ailment away. But I have strong reason to believe it is my fault. Though I don't know why what I said would affect him as such. His voice even shook a little in an unsteady vibration. His gaze seems permanently fixed to the ground on the right. I have never seen him act so strange. Never as if he was in pain by mere words.
"I guess? I know a few things, but I've always been synonymous with fighting and fire and eating stupid amounts. That doesn't really encapsulate me, I don't think." His lips carve up, and I know he wants to make a crack at my vocabulary, but he refines -lucky for him.- It only does last for a moment before there's a frustrated frown and pinched brows once more. I continue: "I know that I love my family, and that I believe the Magic Council is shit. I know that I am gay and in love with the most handsome man ever. But other then that, I draw a blank." I want to point out the flush on his cheeks, light pink and pointed by a gentle quirk of his lips to the left, but I don't, being a bad time to mention his lack of ability to take a compliment. His posture is slouched so I know he is sitting with his hands on his feet and winged out legs as he does when he is relaxing.
"...I love you too," he says when I'm expecting some sort of remark on my self-definition. It sets light to something in my core, that little ball that makes me want to giggle and grin because it just feels so good to know that I have someone like him in my life. If a scuffled chortle escapes me in that moment he doesn't mention it.
He looks up quickly jaw ticks and his eyebrow twitches his muscles tensing under the cloth of his coat, and denting- stretching his leopard print shirt around his pectorals. He looks to me a moment, and I know instantly. He has to leave, least he gets caught. I smile, because separation for the both of us is never easy and every comfort is a soothing cream upon a burn. Then I deactivate the orb feeling myself a bit lighter from having talked to him about it. So maybe I long to have him close to me in an embrace. I can survive with what I am given.
Ignoring that, I have the suspicion that I will be facing off against Phantom soon, therefore against Black Steel Gajeel. Allowing myself to get distracted would be a bad idea, especially by romantic interest, uncontrollable as it is. Always I will worry when he gets pulled away as such, a fear that the Council had found their guild or that another Dark was at their walls declaring war. I can only imagine there would be much more carnage between guilds of their caliber. Even as we fight our own, I suppose it is merely natural to be concerned.
Not that I can let the others know of my own issues, immovable as stone and made to fight anything. That is who I am to them, and as of right now I cannot change that because I hardly know any different myself. I wonder if Happy or Lucy see me in a different light, I guess I can hope, but it's not exactly a thing you simply ask someone cat or human alike.
I ponder who sees me as something more. Though I doubt I will ever know the names.
Laxus, he knows something further, more than I myself do of who I am. In a way that is comfort in itself.