where the fuck are the raijinshuu

“You’re a little asshole, you know that?”

Bickslow gasped dramatically, quickly covering his son’s ears with his hands. “You take that back!”

Laxus puffed out his chest and crossed his arms. “No,” he insisted. “Hunter’s an asshole.”

“He’s nine months old!”

“Yeah, and he’s an asshole,” Laxus once again insisted, leaning down just to ruffle his newphew’s short cobalt hair. “Aren’t ya, buddy?”

Hunter merely looked up at Laxus for a moment and started giggling, his tongue just barely peeking past his lips. The first time Bickslow had seen that Hunter had managed to pick up that particular trait, it had been in the middle of the guild a few months early, and at first, he’d thought it was just a coincidence. But then it had happened again, and again, and then Lucy had seen it and berated him for a week for teaching their child bad habits. Now though, Bickslow couldn’t help but feel a little proud every time he saw his son do his little tongue wag.

“He’s not an asshole,” Bickslow argued though, finally taking his hands away from Hunter’s ears—he’d heard far worse anyway, much to Lucy’s annoyance—just to sit back on the soft, cushioned floor of the guild’s new playroom. “Jax is an asshole.”

Laxus straightened back up and narrowed his eyes at his friend. “Now you take that back. Jax isn’t an asshole, Hunter is—“

“Your kids are both fuckin’ assholes,” Gajeel groaned from the other side of the room, his daughter on his lap with one of Levy’s Rune Basics books in front of them both. Gajeel had argued it was too advanced for a kid who wasn’t even two, but he’d lost that war the second it had begun. “Just like their fathers. So both of you, shut it.”

“Ash-hole!” Gajeel’s daughter said triumphantly. Bickslow and Laxus paled when the toddler grinned and began triumphantly echoing her new favourite word. “Ash-hole, ash-hole, ash-hole!” she said.

Laxus wasted no time in scooping up his own toddler under one arm and making a quick departure, mumbling something about going and hiding behind the bar as he went. Bickslow could only laugh nervously as Gajeel continued to glare at him. It was probably a miracle that Hunter wasn’t old enough to talk yet or he’d be saying the same things. “Look, it’s not my fault,” Bickslow defended himself. He would maybe admit he was part of the problem, but it was most definitely not entirely his fault. It was Laxus’ fault, too. “Technically, you said it too.”

“I’m telling Shrimp it was you,” Gajeel said.

“You wouldn’t.”

Gajeel grinned menacingly. “I would.”

And Bickslow knew all too well what that meant. Gajeel would tell Levy, Levy would tell Lucy, and Lucy would… Well, Lucy would yell at him for teaching their friends’ kids bad habits, too. “Hundred jewels and you blame Laxus,” Bickslow offered instead. He didn’t really want to give Lucy more reason to yell at him. She’d only just stopped yelling at him for breaking the living room window a week earlier whilst playing with the babies and Hunter. Granted, it had been snowing all of that week and getting it replaced had taken a few days, but Bickslow really didn’t like it when she yelled at him. She terrified him.

“Two hundred and deal.”

Bickslow would, of course, take that deal. It was a bit of a bargain, especially by Gajeel’s standards. Two hundred jewel was merely a fraction of how much the guitar he’d had to replace all those years ago had cost him. Still, Bickslow groaned as he pulled himself up off the plush mat for a moment just to fish the crumpled jewel notes out of the inside of his cloak and toss them loosely in Gajeel’s direction.

“Pleasure doing business with my, my friend,” Gajeel said, cackling as his pocketed the money and turned the page for his daughter.

Bickslow sighed again and rolled his eyes, turning his own attention back to Hunter still giggling a little too maniackly for his own tastes as he slammed the poor totems into each other. “Yeah, yeah,” Bickslow grumbled under his breath. “Now who’s the asshole, huh?” Only assholes used blackmail as a threat, and Bickslow seemed to know all too well that it was Gajeel’s way of getting under everyone’s skin.

“Ash-hole!” Gajeel’s daughter giggled again.

That time, as Gajeel glared at him and no doubt plotted a murder, Bickslow could only grin sheepishly as he took a page from Laxus’ book, jumping up, grabbing his son, and leaving the playroom as fast as possible. “It’s not my fault!”

###

Lucy stirred awake at the sound of the lock being turned and she stretched her arms above her head just as Bickslow made it inside into and into the dark foyer. “What time is it?” she asked, straining as she stretched out her hands.

“Late,” Bickslow sighed, shutting the door behind himself gently. Hunter would be fast asleep at the other end of that hall and the last thing Bickslow wanted to do was wake him up. Bickslow wasn’t sure what it was about four-year-olds being allergic to bedtimes and sleep, but he knew from experience that getting his son to bed was a nightmare and he didn’t want to wake him unnecessarily. He could wait until morning to see his son. “Too late.”

Lucy didn’t have her keys nearby to check the time, but the street outside was quiet—no quiet conversations just outside in the street as party goers and bar patrons made their way home—so she knew to take Bickslow’s word for it. She shifted slightly, scooting to the front edge of the lounge and then patting the soft back cushions behind her. “Come here,” she said.

The lounge certainly wasn’t big enough for the two of them, but Bickslow would indulge his wife for a few moments in the peace and quiet and quickly kicked off as much excess clothing as he could. His boots, cloak, belt, and wrist guards sat in a pile by the foot of the sofa, and he groaned from aching muscles and a growing bruise on his shoulder as he carefully climbed into the crampled space behind her on the comfortable lounge. Lucy always smelled of home—those days it was apricot body scrub—and he closed his eyes as he buried his face in her hair.

“Sometimes I wish I could just stay at home forever, with you and Hunter and the babies and all those annoying spirits of yours.“

“They’re not annoying, thank you,” Lucy scoffed.

He smiled and chuckled quietly as Lucy elbowed him gently in his stomach. “They are annoying. Especially Loke. And to think I kept his secret for all that time.”  

As if to prove Bickslow’s point, Loke cleared his throat from the foot of the sofa, by Bickslow’s clothes. “We are not annoying,” the spirit insisted, pushing his glasses back up his nose at Bickslow’s groan and Lucy’s giggling. “I merely aim to help make Lucy’s life slightly more tolerable and assist in any way I can. Although, given that she married you and refuses to divorce you after all this time, I’m not sure my best efforts really do much.”

“Loke, man. Come on. You hurt me.”

“Oh, no. What a shame.”

Bickslow didn’t miss the spirit’s grin before returning to his own world. He doubted he’d ever be best of friends with his wife’s prized spirit, but after several years together, Bickslow could almost say that Loke summoning himself at inopportune moments just to annoy him wasn’t actually that annoying after all. Still, he would go to the grave calling Lucy’s spirits annoying.

“See? Not annoying,” Lucy giggled. “And, you can’t stay at home forever. I can’t stay at home forever either.”

Bickslow sighed into Lucy’s shoulder. He knew. He knew it was unreasonable. It was just as unreasonable as them leaving the guild before Hunter had been born. Sometimes, part of him still wouldn’t have minded giving up his job—just stop working as a mage, and find a normal, safe job somewhere. He still wouldn’t have been able to stay at home every second of every day then, but he wouldn’t go days, sometimes weeks without seeing his family.

The list of moments and firsts he’d missed grew longer each time he took a job. Lucy’s, too. He’d missed the birth of his son. Lucy had missed Hunter’s first steps. They’d both missed his first words that weren’t just complete gibberish that not even Freed or Levy could decipher. And, Bickslow wanted to say that the next baby would be different, when they came in just a few more months, but he knew it wouldn’t be the case.

“I know I can’t,” Bickslow said. “But I want to.”

“I know you do.”

“Thanks for not divorcing me yet, though. Honestly a miracle you haven’t.”

Lucy laughed, and she turned on the sofa so she could face Bickslow and press soft kissed to his cheek and his lips. “Maybe next year,” she promised. “Happy anniversary, Pixie.”

“Happy anniversary, Cosplayer. I’m sorry we missed another one.”

She kissed the tip of his nose gently. “Don’t be. It’s fine.” As far as Lucy was concerned, they had plenty more ahead of him. Missing a couple was nothing. “But, I did get a little something. Freed called earlier this morning to let me know you probably wouldn’t home until late. Help me up, will you?”

Bickslow didn’t get much of a chance to process Freed being one step ahead of him as he helped Lucy up, and watched her disappear back into the dining and kitchen. She came back a few moments later with a pink cake box, a glass bottle, and some glasses.

“Now, I know it wasn’t for our first date, but, it’s still one of my favourite dates.” Bickslow couldn’t stop grinning as Lucy laid out the plain chocolate cake, save from the messily frosted five in the middle, and popped the cork on the large bottle. Lucy didn’t miss the concerned look he gave her when she poured the liquid into the glasses, and quickly said, “Sparkling apple juice!”

“Cake and wine—well, apple juice,” he chuckled, pulling himself up from the couch just to drag Lucy back onto his lap and smother her with even more kisses. “I love it. I love you. You know, I’m pretty sure I was in love with you then, too.”

“I know.”

“What do you mean, you know? How did you know?”

“You’ve told me,” Lucy answered, giggling around a mouthful of rich chocolate cake. “A few times, actually.”

Bickslow scowled as he snatched away the fork Lucy had been using to pick up the next piece of cake, shovelling it in his own mouth before she could take it back. “Well, fine. But it’s true anyway. Probably.” He shrugged, leaning back into the sofa with another bite of cake. “All I know is, I must have been super fucking in love with you to willingly get hurt that many times. All by this very date, by the way,” Bickslow said, energetically gesturing between themselves and the food on the coffee table.  

Lucy gawked at him. “I never hurt you.” Well, apart from those times where he was helping her train down in Hargeon, but Lucy didn’t count those.

“No, you didn’t. But your team sure did.”

“Oh, yeah? When?”

“Well, there was that time I pissed off Gajeel—“

“Gajeel isn’t with my team,” Lucy pointed out quickly.

Bickslow dismisseed it with a slight shake of his head and roll of his eyes. “No, he’s not. But I broke his guitar and he broke my nose.”

Lucy smiled, a soft turn of her lips that almost had Bickslow concerned. “Oh, I remember that one. That didn’t have anything to do with me though.”

“It kinda did.”

“Yeah? How so?” Lucy snorted.

“Well, it was right after I’d properly asked you out. So, you know…” His cheeks warmed as he lifted the glass of apple juice, hiding behind it some as he tried to sink further into the sofa and away from Lucy’s growing smirk. “I was happy and shit,” Bickslow said bashfully.

Lucy had to cover her mouth from squealing and laughing too loud, lest she wake Hunter up just down the hall. She was vaguely aware of the fact that it was a miracle they hadn’t already woken him. “Aww,” she crooned. She leaned into Bickslow’s side, squeezing his cheek and making it just that little bit more red. “You were happy, huh?”

Bickslow groaned and pouted. “Yes, I was, thank you.” He rolled his eyes and tried to fight off the infectious smile when Lucy giggled again and pressed light kisses against his cheek. “Anyway, the point is, it was your fault I got into trouble with Gajeel, because I had a major crush on you obviously, was super fucking happy because you, for some fucking reason, agreed to actually go out with me, and I was doing dumb shit because I felt on top of the world. Okay?”

“That’s adorable.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is,” Lucy giggled. She settled into his side comfortably, resting the cake box on her lap and offering a bite to her husband. “You’re still on top of the world though, I hope?”

“Oh, abso-fucking-lutely,” Bickslow mumbled around the cake. He didn’t need to think about that answer.

“What about the other two then?”

“Well, then there was that time that Erza threatened me with her swords.” He couldn’t help but grimace slightly. “You know, for the time I apparently stole your first kiss in the guild, in front of everyone, because I couldn’t figure out a way to talk to you in the guild without making everyone question just why the fuck I was talking to you in the first place.”

“Oh, yeah,” Lucy said. “She made you come apologise in the middle of the night.”

Bickslow nodding, sipping on the fizzy juice. “I still have that scar on my hand, you know.”

“No you don’t. I’ve seen your hands.”

Maybe not physically. “Fine,” he conceded. “Anyway, then there was that time after our third date, where I stayed over but then Natsu came to your apartment in the morning and he threw me into your coffee table.”

“I really liked that table too…” Lucy mumbled.

“It was a table.”

“But it was a nice table. It was one of the first things I bought when I moved to Magnolia…” Granted, it really hadn’t been the fanciest table—it was a coffee table, and a plain and cheap one at that. But it had been something she’d done on her own.

But, Bickslow understood that. “I know it was,” he said softly, tilting to rest his cheek against the top of her head for a moment. “But, and I may be biased, but I think I was a pretty damn nice boyfriend.”

Lucy scrunched up her nose, shrugging slightly. “Eh… Better boyfriend than husband, sure.”

“Excuse me?” Bickslow feigned his shock, pulling himself away abruptly. There was a glint in Lucy’s eyes and a smirk plastered on her lips. “And how would you know, huh? Who you comparin’ me to? I know for a fact I’ve been your only boyfriend, ever, Cosplayer.” He wore that badge with pride. Weirdly.

“Yeah, and I know for a fact that you never had a proper girlfriend before me, either,” Lucy said, prodding the Seith mage in the chest.

“…Okay, fair point. But, you did marry me, so at the very least, you thought I was a good enough boyfriend five years ago.”

“Maybe I just didn’t know any better,” Lucy said, almost wistfully as she settled back against her loving husband. “Alas, you knocked me up so now I’m stuck with you… Oh, the misery.”

“Mm. Poor you,” Bickslow agreed. His hands were by Lucy’s waist, poised and ready. “Poor, miserable, Lucy.” He didn’t give Lucy a chance to get away before he tickled her ribs, wrapping his other arm back around her waist as she squealed and planting soft kisses all over her cheek and lips. “I don’t know how you cope, Cosplayer. Being stuck with me, your doting, loving husband, and our wonderful son, and another perfect child, and let’s not forget all of your niblings and my sisters and… Yeah, actually, never mind. I feel sorry for anyone who has to know those two fuckwits.”

Lucy snorted. Years later, she still found the feigned animosity between the Alderwood siblings all too amusing. “My life is just so horrible.”

“So very horrible.”

She craned her neck to look up at him, a soft smile on her lips that reached her eyes and she kissed him again gently. Sometimes, Lucy still just loved sitting there on the couch with Bickslow, on the quiet and late nights, and forgetting—even if it was just for a moment—that a world existed beyond them. The quiet nights were rare, but when they did happen, Lucy cherished them. Her heart was full—Bickslow’s too, she knew—and when Bickslow grinned down at her, with the same goofy, wide grin he’d had since their first date and that their son had woefully inherited, she still felt those gentle butterflies in her stomach.

But, as happy as Lucy was in the warm bubble of her husband’s hug, the sickly sweet scents of apple juice and cake could only mask so much. “You need to go have a shower,” she said, “and we need to go to bed. I’m definitely not falling asleep on this lounge with you, either.”

Bickslow knew better than to disagree, and he was sure his spine would thank him anyway.

###

"Harper! Get back down here!” Bickslow shouted up towards the guildhall’s rafters. “Don’t make me come up there,” he threatened, only causing the small girl clinging to the wooden beams to giggle even louder.

Beside him, Laxus snickered into his fourth cup of coffee for the morning. “You know Blondie’s going to be back any minute now and she’s going to kick your ass if Harps doesn’t have both feet on the ground,” he said.

“I know,” Bickslow said through gritted teeth, continuing to glare up at his daughter twenty feet above them. The second Lucy had left the guild to grab some extra supplies in town for the parade later that night, Harper had run straight for the rafters. The girl had turned four barely six months earlier, but she was already double the menace Hunter had ever been at the same age. But Bickslow narrowed his gaze to the five totems circling Harper, bobbing up and down in the air. “Babies, you know better.”

“Harp! Fly! Harp! Fly!” the babies cheered.

But, Bickslow didn’t get much more of a chance to yell at the babies for taking too many orders from a four-year-old, or try and convince said four-your-old to come back down on her own before he felt a sharp pain in the side of his head from someone getting a fistful of his hair and tugging on it. “Ow, ow—“

“Why in the world is my child hanging from a beam?” Lucy demanded, one hand on her hip as she tugged forcefully on her husband’s hair, having him leaning over just to lessen the pain. It wasn’t her fault he refused to cut it though; if he’d merely let Cancer give him a trim she wouldn’t be able to yank on his hair that was just about long enough it needed to be tied up.

“It’s not my fault!” Bickslow said. He was keenly aware of Laxus snickering at him, and he was sure he could hear the familiar giggling of his daughter above him too.

“Then why do I see the babies up there, huh?”

“Because they keep listening to her!” Bickslow winced, trying to pry his wife’s fingers out of his hair. He didn’t need to glance at her to see the fury that was no doubt aimed at him.

Still, Bickslow would maintain that it wasn’t really his fault. His daughter just really had a knack for bossing the babies about—more than Hunter had ever been able to, and more than Lucy had ever been able to as well. He’d tried telling his babies to just stop helping the damn kid get into mischief too, and it had worked for all of about five minutes, but then Harper had wanted the babies to help her get into the tree in their backyard one day, the babies had refused, Harper had started bawling her eyes out and before Bickslow had had a chance to figure out why his daughter had been having a tantrum, she’d been swinging happily from a tree branch with the babies giggling around her. He’d even tried taking the babies out of their bodies when they were at home, too, but hiding the babies from his daughter didn’t work too well when Harper could, in fact, see them anyway. That much, Bickslow wasn’t too fond of. Lucy, however, had just about wet herself from excitement from finding out her then almost four-year-old had inherited at least some Seith magic. She’d been just a little disappointed when Hunter hadn’t, but that disappointed had quickly dissipated once he’d borrowed Lucy’s Canis Minor key whilst playing and claimed it for his own.

Of course though, Lucy knew she couldn’t do much in the way of Bickslow’s babies doing whatever it was their precious spider monkey asked of them. That was, as far as Lucy was concerned, entirely a Bickslow issue. So, she let go of his hair, finally, crossing her arms over her chest instead. “Harper, honey,” she said gently. The festival parade was beginning in a few more hours and truthfully, the last thing Lucy wanted to be doing was having to coax her child down to the ground again. She had a float to finish decorating! “Come on down now, please. Aunt Mira will make you a nice big milkshake if you come down now!”

“No!” Harper shouted, shaking her head as she continued to cling to the beam.

Sometimes, not that Bickslow would admit it, it was tempting to just let his daughter do what she pleased, mostly because when she got what she wanted she was happy and his childrens’ laughter had long since replaced Lucy’s on his list of favourite things in the world. But even high above him, Bickslow could see the devilish little grin on her mouth and hear her giggling at them because she damn well knew she was in trouble and enjoyed it far too much for reasons that Bickslow would never understand, and even if Harper might as well have been a miniature version of Lucy, he knew for a fact that she got the attitude entirely from him. His sisters had made sure of telling him that the last time they’d visited.

But, while Lucy was fine just promising milkshakes, Bickslow knew it was time to pull out his trump card. “Harps, if you don’t get down here right now, we’re not going to watch the parade tonight,” he said.

Harper sat up, gasping. Even Lucy was a little surprised at his threat. But Bickslow meant business. Sure, he didn’t want to miss the parade, or even the fireworks from his favourite rooftop in town, because he’d not missed a single year since the guild had gotten back together, but Bickslow wasn’t really sure what else he could do to get his daughter to come back down to earth.

“No see Mama?” Harper asked.

Bickslow shook his head. “Nope. No fireworks either. And it won’t be just you that doesn’t get to see the parade or Mama or the fireworks. Hunter won’t be able to go either. You don’t want Hunter to miss out, do you?”

And for a moment, Bickslow thought he’d finally won. It was an offer too good to refuse in his eyes, and as Harper sat quietly, he knew it would be just a few more seconds before she was telling the babies to take her back down to the ground. But then she leant back down to hug the beam, shaking her head again. “Nope! I stay,” she said instead.

“Harps! Stay!” the babies cheered.

When Lucy flicked his ear and muttered something about their kids being brats, Bickslow knew he’d deserved it.

###

Lucy squealed the second arms were wrapped around her middle, and her straw hat when flying in the gentle breeze when she was pulled down onto the soft picnic blanket. “Stop doing that!” she giggled, swatting Bickslow’s arms away and doing her best to wriggle out of his soft grip just to try and fetch her lost hat. “I’m going to hurt you one day, you know that.”

Bickslow shrugged, grinning as he instead leant back on his hands. Sneaking up on Lucy from behind was, undoubtedly, one of his favourite things. “You have before,” he reminded her. As far as he was concerned, it was an occupational hazard. Still, it had been years since she’d last impulsively swung at him, thinking he was just some random creep.

“Fine,” Lucy admitted. With her hat back on her head, shielding her from the harsh summer sun, she sneaked a glance back to her children playing in the field—Hunter was chasing Harper around, with Plue doing its best to keep up—before joining her husband on the blanket and stealing a gentle kiss. “But you’ve deserved it, each time.”

Across the field, Hunter only groaned as he looked over to his parents at an inopportune time. “Ugh, gross!”

Bickslow rolled his eyes at him, all but ignoring the growing blush on Lucy’s cheeks as he did his best to irritate his child even further and take Lucy’s cheek in his palm and kiss her again. The park was mostly empty, aside from a few stragglers, and Bickslow had never cared about being affectionate in public. “Go play, babies,” he murmured, smiling against Lucy’s lips, and when he distinctly heard his son yell at them to quit being gross, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, fine, stop your whining. Jeez.”

“It’s fine,” Lucy said, an airy giggle escaping as she instead accepted just leaning into his side. “We’ll have time for that later. Hunter wants to have a sleepover with Jax tomorrow. As long as you let Harps have the babies for a little bit we’ll be able to sneak away for a few minutes.”

“It’d be better if we could have no kids for a night, but I guess one is fine for a night.”

“Hey,” Lucy laughed, elbowing him in his side. “You’re the one that had baby fever, remember? You don’t get to complain about them now.”

“But that’s for babies,” Bickslow whined. “Teenagers are annoying.”

“We only have one teenager. And only barely.” Although, the fact that her baby boy was officially a teenager did have Lucy feeling just a little wistful from time to time. He’d been so small once, and now there he was, just about taller than her and rolling his eyes at any form of affection she tried to offer him.

“Still counts.”

Lucy tried not to roll her eyes. “Mm-hmm,” she mumbled.

“Speaking of no kids for a night though,” Bickslow began after a moment, trying not to get too distracted by figuring out just what his children were yelling at each other about. “Picked up another job flyer today. Thought we could do it together. I’m sure we could get someone to watch the kids for a day.”

Lucy couldn’t even remember the last time they’d gone on a job, just the two of them. It had been years, at least—before Harper had been born, even. It had been easier when it had just been Hunter. Getting a babysitter or timing it with a sleepover had been fine. But once they’d had Harper, Lucy had just never really liked the idea of leaving the kids without both of their parents for a day or two. But, Hunter was older, and Harper was nearly nine. Leaving them with someone else for a day or two would be different, surely. “Maybe,” Lucy hummed. “What kind of job?”

“Just this small gang that’s taken up residence there, I think. Nothing major.”

“Where is it?”

“Cartervale.”

The corner of her mouth twisted up into a soft smile, and Lucy wasn’t the least bit surprised to turn back to Bickslow and find him grinning at her. “Cartervale, huh?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, I guess if it’s just a quick job…” Lucy picked herself up from the blanket, readjusting her hat quickly. It’d been years since she’d even heard Cartervale, but now all Lucy could think about was whether that one little inn still existed. “Should probably still go ask the kids to see if they’d be okay with both of us leaving for a couple days, though…”

“Yeah, maybe.” Bickslow wasn’t going to tell Lucy that he was pretty sure that Hunter probably wanted both of them to leave him alone for a couple days, because she probably already knew it.