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infinitevariety · 3 years

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May Your Days Be Merry

Having never been able to celebrate previously, Aziraphale and Crowley decide to embrace the festive season and make the most of their first December together since the world didn’t end.

Chapter Seventeen: Let Nothing You Dismay (AO3)

Crowley and Aziraphale have very different reactions when carol singers stop by the bookshop.

As Crowley upends the last of the third bottle of wine into a glass, there is a knock at the bookshop door.

“I’ll get it,” he says as he stands. “It’ll be the sushi we ordered.”

“Ooh, I am hungry!” Aziraphale claps his hands in front of his chest like an excited child.

Just drunkenly merry enough to be smiling for no reason, Crowley throws open the door without much thought. He can’t help but slow blink once at the sight in front of him.

“Aziraphale,” he calls over his shoulder, “I need help reacting to something!”

Aziraphale totters up behind him and looks out of the door over Crowley’s shoulder. He gasps, and Crowley isn’t sure if it’s a gasp of shock, horror, or delight. Anything Aziraphale might have followed up his gasp with is forestalled, as the group of people gathered on their doorstep begin singing.

“God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay—”

Well, he and Aziraphale have got the merry gentlemen part down, that’s for sure.

“How lovely!” Aziraphale breathes at Crowley’s ear. “I’ll just nip and get our wine!”

It had been a gasp of delight, then.

While Aziraphale is gone, Crowley stares blankly at the carollers, still singing away.

“Remember Christ our saviour was born on Christmas day—”

He was actually born in September, but Crowley has mostly managed to stay quiet about that over the last 2000 years. He settles for an eye roll behind his sunglasses in the moment.

When Aziraphale returns, wine glasses in hand, Crowley accepts his gratefully and quickly takes a long, deep drink.

“To save us all from Satan’s power when we were gone astray—”

Crowley feels one of Aziraphale’s hands touch his lower back and stroke, broad and comforting, up and down his spine. For Aziraphale’s sake he decides not to even think a derogatory comment about that line.

“Oh, tidings of comfort and joy. Comfort and joy—”

And okay, this, at least, Crowley can get behind. The comfort of a glass or wine or fifteen, the joy of seeing Aziraphale’s cheeks get rosier and his smile looser. He feels a smile of his own pull at his mouth. The carollers must see the twitch of Crowley’s lips and take it as tacit approval, because they carry on straight into another verse.

“I’m going to grab some biscuits,” says Aziraphale. He squeezes where his hand rests on Crowley’s hip before slipping away.

Aziraphale quickly returns and they stand through several more verses of one of Crowley’s least favourite carols. (Though who is he kidding? He hates them all.) Crowley nibbles on a solitary biscuit while Aziraphale munches through a few. When the carol finally—finally—ends, Aziraphale offers out biscuits to the group, who accept them gratefully.

“That was simply wonderful!” gushes Aziraphale, once everyone has taken a biscuit. “Do you know Hark! The Herald Angels Sing?”

Crowley barely suppresses a groan, settling for looking side-eye at Aziraphale, who grins unrepentantly as the carollers begin singing. Towards the end of this second—and thankfully slightly shorter—carol, Aziraphale disappears, mumbling something about hot chocolates. Crowley can’t wait to sink back into the sofa with a hot mug in his hands.

He is disappointed.

Aziraphale appears just as the last note rings out, carrying a tray laden with mugs of hot chocolate for not only for himself and Crowley, but for all the carol singers as well.

“They’re the perfect drinking temperature, so don’t dilly dally!”

As the carollers tuck into their miracled drinks, Crowley turns to Aziraphale.

“Really?” he whispered.

“What?” asks Aziraphale. “They much be parched. I think they’ve more than earned a little hot chocolate!”

“And Hark! The Herald Angels Sing?”

Aziraphale lips tip upwards in a small smile. “That was just a bit of fun,” he admits before taking a drink of his own hot chocolate.

Once everyone has finished their drinks, Aziraphale collects all the mugs, beaming at the carollers.

“Any more requests?” one of them cheerfully asks.

Aziraphale opens his mouth to speak, but Crowley refuses to let him ask for another song about himself, and quickly blurts out his suggestion.

“How about Little Donkey? Always been one of my favourites.”

The carollers strike it up immediately, but Crowley barely pays attention. His focus is on Aziraphale, who is straining with the effort of not rolling his eyes. Aziraphale hates Little Donkey. He only makes it to about halfway through, then Aziraphale mumbles something about nuts and wanders off again. As he requested the damn song, Crowley feels he has to remain.

Only a few lines of song later, Crowley catches a glimpse of Deliveroo turquoise at the back of the group.

“’Scuse me,” he grumbles to the carollers as he steps down from the steps, meeting the Deliveroo rider halfway.

Quickly exchanging the bag of food for a generous tip, Crowley soon ducks back inside. The carollers are still singing and have two verses left when Crowley slams the door closed on them.

“Sushi’s here,” he calls as he wanders back to the sofa.

"Oh, fabulous!” Aziraphale hurriedly abandons his basket of nuts on a shelf and comes to join Crowley. “What about the carol singers?”

"Yeah... they finished,” Crowley tells him as he glances behind him at the closed door. “Left."

“There was no need for you to request Little bloody Donkey.”

“What? I thought you liked that one.” Crowley feigns innocence before stuffing a gyoza in his mouth so he won’t grin and give it all away.

“You know full well I don’t. Pass me the dragon rolls, please, and don’t eat all the gyozas.”

Crowley swallows the second gyoza he’d just popped into his mouth. “They’re my favourite. And you’re an angel, there shouldn’t be a carol you don’t like.”

“Well there is and it is Little blasted Donkey. If you like gyoza so much you should order two portions and stop eating all of mine.”

“Maybe I’ll just order three dozen gyozas and no dragon rolls next time. And what have you got against Little Donkey anyway? Hard working mule, he was.”

Aziraphale takes a breath and actually puts down his dragon roll. Crowley knows he’s in for a lecture now and almost regrets asking. Almost. He grabs another gyoza and settles in.

#good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #ineffable husbands fic #ace ineffable husbands #ineffably festive #fic: may your days be merry #2020 advent ficlet challenge #i wrote this

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argentdandelion · 4 years

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Memories of the Surface Chapter 1: One Punch Between Friends

Gerson looks back on his long life, his memories of the Surface, and all the friendships and trauma made under a world lit by the sun.

It was a lovely late summer day: warm, sunny, and cloudless. A quiet, peaceful day...were it not for the laughter and bustling and scuffling of the children playing in the little garden of the town.

Within the town, between the homes of humans and monsters, lay a small woodland. Children gathered to talk and eat at its long, wooden benches. They also played games together: hopscotch, jump rope, catch, and marbles, and things they had simply made up.

“Lettuce and radish sandwich again?” Gerson muttered. He shook his head. I’m going to tell her to stop packing those.

Suddenly, the background of jump rope rhymes stopped. “Hey! No cheating!” Gerson glanced at the shout: a Whimsun hovered in place between the oscillating ropes. “You gotta jump! You can’t just fly!”

Gerson laughed. Poor little Whimsun, already looking at the verge of tears from something so small.

A fresh memory came unbidden...

“Be kind. Never give them a reason to hate you, and you'll be safe.”

"What if they hit me, but don't hate me? Wouldn't that hurt too?"

"We are the safest of all monsters. Always remember that, dear."

“Hey, Gerson! Watch this!”

The bunny monster prepared a spiky bubble of magic, aimed at a carefully-placed chunk of moldering firewood...and blasted it to smithereens.

"Wow! That's such cool magic!" Abelai gushed. Cool, yes. But not very practical to use so much magic... Gerson thought.

"I think, when you’re a grown-up, you could blast the enemies to smithereens!" the human girl said, leaning in with her enthusiasm.

“I...uh...enemies are just friends you haven't made yet!" the bunny monster said sheepishly. Abelai’s donkey-like wheeze drowned out Gerson’s own chuckle.

“You're so friendly. I guess you wouldn't be fit for the army, even if you are strong.”

"Really? You've never seen a nice solider before?” the bunny asked.

Abelai’s mouth rumpled. “It's not a matter of 'niceness'. It's a matter of bravery and duty.”

“And having enemies to fight! Haha!” Gerson said, butting in.

“Y-yeah. Not r-really a point, ‘cause everything’s peaceful.” the bunny replied, nervously tapping his hands together.

Abelai paused, a hand to her chin in a comical imitation of an old scholar. In that break in the conversation, Gerson could faintly hear the discussion at the other table. It sounded like two boys muttering, with one exclaiming “beat all the bad guys!”

"Are...monsters even allowed in the army?” Abelai asked. “I've never seen monsters in the parades or around the barracks."

Gerson and the bunny were quiet. After the pause, Abelai continued. "It doesn't make any sense. I mean, they let mages in, so why not monsters?"

She doesn't know...she really doesn't know why monsters aren't in the army.

The two boys at the other table were talking louder. Gerson couldn’t make it out, but it was something about “dad” and “bad guys”. Ugh, I’m trying to have a conversation .

“Do you know, Gerson?”

Gerson turned suddenly to Abelai, as if nothing was wrong. Some boy had just said “Watch this!”.

"It's probably 'cause monsters would put the mages out of a job! Hahaha!” Gerson said, laughing.

He heard a hiss by his side. A boy, a human boy, was standing beside him. In an instant, Gerson scanned him over: he had messy black hair, a stern frown and wide eyes that crinkled around the edges. His hands hung limply by his sides, clenched into fists. He’s just...pretending to be angry?

The boy’s mouth opened and closed, fish-like. Gerson tilted his head. "What are you doing? Looking for someone to punch?"

Thwack.

In an instant, half his vision went dark as he was knocked back onto his shell. Suddenly, he heard scuffling footsteps. Someone was running away.

Gerson dug his claws into the table and straightened up. He put a hand to his right eye, an eye that felt hot and swollen. Blinking away tears, he looked back at his assailant through his untouched eye.

The black-haired boy...he was still there, his uncoiling hand frozen in the air. His face sported a wide-eyed look, his slightly open mouth showing fang-like teeth. The boy’s brow twitched as Gerson stared him down.

He looked...startled?

Surprised I didn't run away? Or are you surprised I didn't die in one hit?

The boy frowned again, harder, and once more clenched his fist.

Gerson’s hands slid slowly down, as he casually laid them on the bench seating. His tears streamed down his face...and he laughed.

"Wa ha ha! What's one punch between friends?"

The pain radiated through his face again, pulsing, thudding.

The pain radiated through his chest, and the boy hissed as his fist hit the hard plastron.

A hit. A hit. Another hit...

"We are the safest of all monsters...never give them a reason to hate you."

His mother had looked all strange then, with big eyes and a crooked smile.

Why? Why?

Gerson heard a yelp. The seconds passed, and no punches landed again.

Gerson covered his right eye with a hand and wiped away his tears. There were two human women in front of him, one gripping his attacker’s shoulders with a look of disdain. One of them looks familiar...is it Abelai’s mother?

His attacker looked at his fists to find them covered in a red crust. The park was silent, the children still stunned.

"Why did you do this?" One of the women said in a voice both soft and sharp. The boy still stared at his fists. A faint smoke drifted away from them in the summer breeze, as they rapidly turned purple from bruises. Suddenly his eyes went watery...and he laughed.

Gerson stood aback – the laughter was mirthless. Empty. But it’s not funny.

Gerson watched one of the women briskly take the fang-toothed boy away. They passed by another table, where a brown-haired human boy looked at the goaded attacker with a flattened, unreadable expression.

"Will you be alright?" The other woman was bending over to investigate his injuries. Gerson’s face felt wet and hot...he touched his cheek, and his hand came back bloody.

But he could only chuckle. Why? Why didn’t I die from all those hits? Why did he laugh? Why...why does it feel like a joke?

The woman looked startled for a second. She chewed over her lip, still looking at him in concern. Wrong answer. She stroked Gerson’s hair, hesitating, uncertain even after her touch, and checked over the blood smeared over the turtle monster’s shirt.

“If it wasn’t for your shell...” the woman started. Then she smiled. It was fake and didn’t reach her eyes. “Well, it's a good thing you're a turtle! Now, I'm not sure how to deal with this kind of injury, so just show me where your mother is and I'll..."

She’s not panicking...it’s like it’s just a scraped knee...Gerson thought as the woman carefully moved towards the monster district.

She doesn't know. She really doesn't know...how easy it is to kill monsters.

-----

Today was...interesting. Some kid had shown up in his shop, and had asked him obvious questions anyone would know while using a silly voice and wearing a funny hat. What was it? Some disguise? Wa ha ha. Can’t fool me, kid.

There were a lot of cloudy-looking glasses in the dump: seemingly endless piles in wet, moldering cardboard. Was it a fad these days? Gerson wondered.

With his resupply trip done early, he decided to go back home. I’ll take the scenic route. Why not? He travelled through a dark path lit with blue crystals. It was less well-trod, but one he knew well nonetheless. It was hard not to memorize it, darkness notwithstanding, with a life so long as his. His bones complained from the journey...but quietly. So quietly, after more than a thousand years...

"There is another way..." Asgore’s deep, soothing voice emanated from a side passage.

Gerson startled. In a moment, he reoriented towards the sound.

"You will not have to..."

Asgore’s voice echoed strangely within the cave walls, repeated by scraggly clusters of echo flowers. Gerson sped up. Someone was talking back...a quieter voice, one he couldn’t identify, much less make out.

“Do not be afraid, human.” Human.

Closer...

Gerson skidded to a stop and looked to his left. Two figures. Asgore, hunched over someone. That someone...a human, their back to the entrance. They held their notebook like a weapon as their SOUL glowed purple.

Suddenly, Asgore’s trident flailed out, glowing red. He twisted it in his hands, pointing at...

Thunk.

A body fell to the soft mud.

In the threshold of the room, Gerson stared back at a face full of shock. Asgore’s trident faded away.

"Gerson!"

Glowing water and a crack in the ceiling gently illuminated them all in the marshy alcove. The stream behind them quietly burbled. Masses of Echo Flowers surrounded the two, their whispers a faint buzz. The kid’s voice still carried on those flowers....

Guilt dragged the old monster’s face down. The pause stretched on too long.

"This won't work, Fluffybuns." Gerson said sternly. The king’s face fell even more. "You ain't in a good state to think it over, what with your...tendencies." Asgore turned his face away. Never had the crown seemed heavier.

Gerson moved closer to his old friend. "If you can't do it for yourself, do it for your kingdom...” Asgore’s mouth moved, preparing for an answer. “...And you know that kid sure can't rule in your place. The kingdom needs you."

The small body had stopped twitching, and the breathing was going unsteady.

"You better bring out the container."

"I...it is not in my inventory."

Gerson rolled his eyes. "I got one at my house, for emergencies. I'll watch over..." Another pause, another absence both refused to acknowledge. "And don't dilly-dally, Fluffybuns."

Gerson picked up his old war hammer from its place in the target’s head. It had left quite the dent: the hit site was oozing. He couldn’t help but inspect what was left behind from his deeds , lit so conspicuously by that long-awaited fourth SOUL.

Stripes . Stripes, he knew...but didn’t want to know. And in the right light, he couldn't. In the right light, he could imagine all those purple bands were just black, black to blend in with the rest of the outfit. He could imagine that liquid dripping from the...from the kid’s head was purple. Just something strange he had never seen before, something gently beyond his comprehension. He couldn’t see, didn’t need to see the true extent of the injuries.

But the kid...the kid was still breathing. Faintly, ever faintly, but even after that...even after that strike...

“So. What were you doing here?” Gerson muttered. Why did I even ask? Does it matter?

The notebook, clutched so desperately in the kid’s arms, slid down to the mud. Gerson picked it up, almost by reflex. He squinted at it in the SOUL’s purple glow. He considered bringing out a glowing attack, to boost the light, but...

Can’t risk it. An attack straight to the SOUL like this would waste decades of waiting. Yes. Yes, that was his logic.

He squinted over the notebook. Its pages were filled with childish drawings of monsters, crude but recognizable. An Aaron. A Temmie.

And him.

Something ran through his mind...a faint sound, a whisper, an echo. He tried to focus. If he made room for anything else, he’d...

In the neat little script, he saw facts: “Temmie: What are Tem Flakes? Is Human Allergy Useful?” “Aaron: Loves to flex...Must learn how to flex better.” That echo came back...

“Are you sure?” “I don’t want to kill anyone.”

"Gerson: Turtle?". "Didn't try to attack. Doesn't hate humans. Useful ally? Backup plan? Looks like Spike. Good omen?"

A child’s voice seeped into his thoughts. Gerson stroked his chin thoughtfully, and turned the kid around. He could see his frown in the reflection of the kid’s huge glasses, superimposed onto the kid’s own eyes. The kid had short, messy black hair, pale skin...they looked like someone he knew, once upon a time, when even he, ol' Gerson, was young.

"Wa ha ha..." He couldn't stop it. The body had stopped moving.

Gerson stared at the page, that crisp handwriting of the human they’d never bothered, never never wanted, to know. If I had just fought back that day...would things have gone differently? Would the war have started even sooner? Would I have met ol’ Fluffybuns and Harrold?

Would I...have lived?

Doesn’t matter anymore, does it?

But for the colors, the kid looked nothing like that angry boy from long ago. Why did I even think to compare them?

He looked in the notebook again.

Spike...sounds like a pet’s name...

The kid had a pet turtle.

“Wa ha ha...” The laugh escaped from his lips before he could stop himself. And with the dam breached...it flooded.

“Wa ha ha! Wa ha ha !” His head lifted, his jaws dropped. And as he knelt on the mud, his thin, bitter laugh overflowed throughout the alcove. It rose and rose, drowning out the babbling stream, drowning out anything else. The Echo Flowers discarded that nameless voice to multiply his own, and the endlessly-copied laughter surrounded him... them, the corpse and the old turtle.

In the end....it was two objects. Among many other objects. Nothing meaningful. And this object...this object...

Gerson. That’s my name. ‘The Hammer of Justice’. He felt like the laughter had carved out his throat like a river through soft mud, leaving it clogged and sore. A sense of shame dripped over the emptiness of his psyche like rain...but no tears fell.

Asgore ducked under the threshold, a soul container in hand.

“Ah, Asgore,” Gerson spoke. “You can handle this. I need to get myself a nice cup of Sea Tea."

Then he strode past the king, past the room, past the burden, without a second glance.

#Undertale #Fanfiction #Gerson #The Purple SOUL #Asgore #Angst #Before Human-Monster War #Time Skips #Murder #Child Murder #Trauma #Veterans #Laughter #Violence #Cross-Posted From Archive of Our Own

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i-am-the-hero-alfred-jones · 4 years

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Fairy Tail’s Fairy Tale’s Chapter 1

((This is my contribution to the Fairy Tail big bang by @ft-ez-bb ! I hope you guys enjoy it! Please comment/reblog/ect. I’ll be putting up a new chapter every day until the 27th.))

WENDY'S BIRTHDAY

Wendy awoke with a smile on her face, and in her heart. After all, how could she not be happy? It was her birthday, and Chelia and Lyon had come all the way from Lamia Scale to spend it with her! Which brought up a troubling fact, her bed seemed a lot more empty than the night before. Where was Chelia? The house only had one guest room, and they had decided to give it to Lyon, since he was a boy. Wendy threw her legs over the edge of the bed and hummed in thought. Carla wasn't in her bed on the opposite side of the room either. Where was everyone?

The crashing and bickering from downstairs quickly answered her question. "I'm an ice mage! We deal with cold, not heat! Did you honestly expect me to be good in the kitchen?!" "Oops! Lyon! I accidentally started another fire!" "Quiet! You'll wake the child!" At the smell of smoke, Wendy decided she should probably get down there. She walked into the kitchen to see all three bickering around the oven, Carla was in her human form.

"Uhm. . . Is everything alright?" Wendy asked politely. The group turned around, looking slightly panicked. "Wendy!" Chelia raced over to hug her friend. Wendy laughed and happily hugged back. "Happy Birthday!" "Thank you!" "We tried to make you breakfast but. . . um. . ." Chelia glanced over at the charred, strangely shiny remains of what had been eggs. ". . . It didn't go well. . . " Wendy just smiled, "It's okay, we can go out to breakfast." she assured. "Oh! I wanna give you your present!" Chelia eagerly pulled Wendy towards the living room.

Carla turned to the ice mage disappointingly once the girls had gone. "Honestly, Lyon! You're an adult! And you can't even cook?" "I can cook just fine!" Lyon snapped. "Tell that to the frozen eggs." Carla countered, gesturing to the frozen pan. "Oh, forgive me!" Lyon replied, sarcastically, "Next time I'll just let the fire keep going and burn your house down." Carla sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, "I just hope the guild does better than you." Lyon had to laugh at that, "You think those fools remembered Wendy's birthday?" Carla gasped, "How dare you! The members of Fairy Tail utterly adore Wendy! They would never do anything to hurt her!" "Yeah, but they're idiots." Lyon stated. It wasn't an insult, it was a fact. ". . . Oh dear. . ." Carla murmured. Lyon had a point. ". . . They're definitely not the brightest . . . What if they did forget her birthday?" The exceed exclaimed, worriedly, "Oh! she'll be crushed! I can't let this happen. You have to stall her." Carla decided. Lyon was bewildered.

"Me?! What am I supposed to do?!" "Take her out to breakfast and open gifts. She received her gift from me last night and will no doubt want to show it to you. I'll go ahead to the guild and make sure she is not forgotten!" Carla shifted into her cat-like form and flew off without another word, leaving a very panicked Lyon in her wake. ". . . I am so screwed. . " he breathed. ----- Carla was breathless by the time she arrived at the guild. She threw open the doors and glanced around worriedly. The wizards and witches of Fairy Tail were lazing around as if it were any ordinary Sunday afternoon.

"No!" Carla shouted out loud. She put her head in her paws as the guild glanced towards her curiously. "What's wrong, Carla?" Happy asked, worriedly, as he approached. He didn't like it when Carla was sad. "You all forgot!" Carla wailed, looking back at the guild in misery. "We didn't forget nothing!" Natsu yelled angrily. He leaned towards his teammate, "Lucy, what'd we forget?" She sighed in reply. "Lyon was right . . ." Carla groaned. "Lyon?" Gray asked, "What are you talking to that jerk for?" "This is absolutely unacceptable!" Carla exclaimed, glaring at the guild, "Wendy is a part of your family! I cant' believe all of you would forget such an important day for her!" "What? Tuesday?" Gajeel asked from his place, with his arm around Levy. The woman stared up at the man she had chosen to be with in awe, ". . . It's Sunday Gajeel." The slayer scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Whatever. . ." "It's her birthday!" Carla exclaimed. "Who's birthday?" Jet asked. "Wendy's birthday you imbeciles!!!!" The guild fell silent at that. ". . . Oh shit . . . ." "Didn't anyone remember?!" Carla exclaimed desperately. There was the sound of a throat clearing from the back of the room and everyone glanced over. "I thought this might happen and planned accordingly." Freed explained, smiling, "As you can see, I"ve provided both a gift and a banner." he gestured to the counter, where two presents and a rolled up banner sat, "The second gift is from Mystogan." he explained. Carla sighed, "At least one of you remembered. The rest of you better come up with something fast, because Wendy will be crushed if she learns you forgot her birthday." "I could put on a show for her?" Gajeel offered, rubbing the back of his neck. "No one wants that for they're birthday!" Natsu yelled from across the room. "Shut up Ash-for-brains, you wouldn't know talent if it bit you on the ass!" "I know it's not you!" ". . . Actually. . ." Carla mused, "A performance could work. . ." "Really?" Levy asked, surprised. "Really?" Gajeel asked, just as surprised. "Indeed, my present to Wendy was a book of Fairy Tales, and she was quite happy to receive it, Perhaps we could act out these stories in the form of a play, letting Wendy choose the cast and narrate." "That's a great idea, Carla!" Levy praised. Carla smiled, "Perfect! Now we have to get the stage and banner set up before she gets here." The guild members rushed to set everything up for their little sky dragon slayer. -------- Wendy smiled as she entered the guild. Everyone was bustling about. Lyon chuckled at the view. "Never a dull moment around here." He lit up as he saw a beautiful figure from afar. "Oh, Wendy? Would you mind if I. . ." "You can go talk to Juvia." Wendy answered Lyon's question before he even finished it. "Thank you!" Lyon dashed off. The girls giggled as they heard Lyon get berated by his childhood friend. "Do you think he's ever going to give up on her?" Chelia asked, curiously. "Maybe after she marries Gray." Wendy joked. The girls laughed again. It was around this time Wendy finally spotted her exceed, whom she approached curiously.

"Carla, what's going on?" Carla gasped and whirled around at the voice. "Wendy! You're here!" the exceed paused for a long moment while the girls stared at her in confusion. Carla sighed and spoke louder, "Wendy's here!!!" The guild members whirled around to look at Wendy. They quickly took up the cry of "Happy Birthday!" Which Wendy beamed at. "Thanks so much everyone! I'm surprised you all remembered." The Fairy Tail guild fell completely silent for the second time in history, as everyone glanced away guiltily, while Wendy looked on in confusion. "Of course they remembered!" Chelia exclaimed, "They love you! So what'd you all get her?!" "Chelia, that's rude." Lyon scolded, lightly. "And you stealing my guild mate isn't?!" "This isn't about you, Gray!" The two returned to their bickering. "Our gift is a performance Wendy." Carla explained. "Really?!" Wendy lit up, but glanced around shyly, "Oh, I hope you didn't go through any trouble for me. . ." "Oh, hush, child." Carla scolded, "It was no trouble at all."

Carla sat Wendy down at a table in front of the stage. "Did you bring the book I got you?" "Mm-hmm!" Wendy nodded and eagerly brought it out. "We are going to put on the Fairy Tales for you." Carla said, smiling as Wendy grew excited, "You may choose the story and who plays what part." "That sounds like so much fun!" Wendy cheered. "Then let's not dilly dally, let's get straight to it." Carla said. "Oh, there's so many stories- I don't even know where to start!" Wendy admitted, shyly. "Then let's start at the beginning." Carla suggested, "What's the first story?" "Um. . . Puss In Boots." Wendy said, turning pages to find the first story. "Who will play what part?" Carla asked. "Hmm. . . " Wendy thought for a long moment, "Well, Puss In Boots is about a clever cat that defeats an ogre and helps his master get a wife-Lily can do it!" "Lily can do what?" Pantherlily asked, looking up from his kiwi breakfast. "You can play Puss from Puss in Boots! Uh. . . if you want to. . ." Wendy added, shyly. Lily smiled, "I would love to." Gajeel stood. "Where are you going?" Levy asked. "No one's being my Lily's master but me!" he replied, sternly. Wendy giggled, "Okay. And Levy can be the princess! We need an ogre and a king!" "Makarov could be king." Mirajane suggested. The old man sighed, "I'm not as young as I used to be, but I'll give it a try." Mirajane gave her brother a look and he sighed, "I'll be the ogre." "Yay!" Wendy cheered. The group glanced over Wendy's shoulder and quickly re-read the story. "I can easily provide costumes." Erza assured, leading the group backstage while Wendy began the first story.

PUSS IN BOOTS

Wendy began to narrate eagerly. "Once upon a time there was an old miller. When he died, he had three sons." Gajeel walked onto the stage. "To the first, he gave the mill." "Alright!" Gajeel said grinning. "That's not you." Wendy explained. ". . .Huh?" "That's your brother." Wendy told him. ". . .Oh. . ." She continued, "The second son got the donkey." "Not bad!" Gajeel grinned again. "That's also not you." Wendy informed him. "Then what did I get?!" Gajeel complained. "The cat." "The cat?! My brothers get a business and a donkey and I get a damn cat?!" Gajeel asked, angrily. "The cat is Lily." Wendy offered. "Best present ever!" Gajeel hugged his exceed happily.

"But the miller's son had a problem. What was he to do with a cat? But the cat assured him that he would be fine." Wendy continued. Lily wormed his way out of Gajeel's grasp and turned to him, "Listen, all I need is a pair of boots and some hunting gear, and I'll make you rich." he promised. Gajeel looked skeptical, but shrugged, "I don't really believe you, but I'm desperate, so what the hell?" "The cat got his boots and spent the next few months hunting to take care of his master." Wendy continued, "But every few weeks, the cat would go visit the king." Makarov sat in a fine throne onstage. Lily walked up, holding a bowl of fruit up to him, "A gift from the Lord of. . . the Iron Hills." "Tell your master that I thank him for the gifts." Makarov replied. Lily bowed and both of them scurried offstage.

"One day, when the cat knew the king was going to be out in the village, he brought his master to a lake." Wendy said. Gajeel followed Lily back out onto the stage. "I'm doing what?" the slayer asked. "Strip and get in the lake." Lily gestured to a large barrel that was serving as their lake. "Why?!" Gajeel exclaimed. "Just trust me. I have a plan." Lily assured. Gajeel sighed and climbed into the barrel. They had decided to leave the stripping out, since there were children in the room.

“While he was bathing, the king walked by with his daughter." Wendy continued. "Help! The Lord of the Iron Hills is drowning!!!" Lily exclaimed. Makarov rushed over and pulled Gajeel out of the 'lake'. "His clothes were stolen by a thief!" Lily explained. "You will have some of my robes then." Makarov said. Erza used her magic to give Gajeel fine clothes. "I remember you from the gifts your cat has given me. Now walk with me." Makarov walked offstage, Levy and Gajeel followed.

"The cat ran ahead and told everyone he met to say that the land they were working on belonged to the Lord of the Iron Hills." Wendy continued, "And went to the nearest castle, which happened to be owned by an ogre." Elfman walked onstage and Lily walked up to him and bowed, "Dear Sir, I have been told that you can turn into anything." "I can!" Elfman confirmed, cockily. "Can you turn into a giant monster?" Lily asked. "Of course I can!" Elfman changed into a large creature and Lily yelped and hid behind the nearest object- which happened to be the barrel/lake. Elfman laughed as he changed back into a human.

"Hmm. . . not bad." Lily admitted, creeping out from his hiding place, "But can you turn into something small, like a mouse?" "With ease!" Elfman flexed and Wendy turned to the guild, "When the ogre turned into a mouse- the cat ate him!" The duo raced offstage. "It was around this time that the king and miller's son arrived." Makarov and Gajeel walked back onstage. "So this is yours too?" "Indeed. My master is the best lord in all the land." Lily assured, standing by his dragon slayer's side. "If he's that great, he has my blessing to marry my daughter." Makarov assured, letting Levy step forward. Gajeel grinned as he leaned down to kiss her. "And they all lived happily ever after!" Wendy cheered.

The guild clapped as the actors got off the stage. "You two can stop kissing now." Lily said with a small sigh as he watched the couple make out. "No thanks, I'm good." Gajeel only grinned as Levy gave him a light shove and looked over towards the book. "What's next?" she asked curiously. Wendy turned back to the book, "The Foolish Wishes." she read. "I know that story!" Levy smiled, "That would be perfect for Natsu and Lucy." "Huh?!" Lucy exclaimed. Wendy gasped and turned to the duo energetically, "Oh, please Lucy?! Please Natsu?!" Lucy sighed and smiled fondly "Oh, alright. . ." she stood and began reading the story. "Sure! If Gajeel can do it, I can do it!" Natsu grinned and used Lucy as an arm rest while he read. Once they were done, they headed backstage and Wendy began the second story.

THE FOOLISH WISHES

"There was once a poor woodcutter . . . " Wendy began, at this Natsu walked onstage. "He was so sad he wanted to die." "SCREW YOU, HEAVENS!" Natsu yelled, angrily, "You've never given me anything!" "At this moment Jupiter appeared! Oh. . . but we didn't choose a Jupiter. . ." Wendy realized, sadly. "The heck is a Jupiter?" Natsu asked. "Jupiter is the god of thunder and lightning." Carla explained, "King of the Roman gods."

"We have our own god of thunder~" Freed smirked over at his love teammate. Laxus slowly turned to look at the rune mage, "NO." "Come on, Laxus. You'd make her day." Evergreen pressed. "Yeah! Don't be an ass!" Bixlow said. "Ass!" "Ass! "Ass!" his babies repeated, flying around Laxus's head. The blonde sighed and glared ahead, "You three won't leave me alone until I do it, will you?" "No, we will not." "Nuh-uh." "We're just gonna keep annoying you!" "Annoying!" "Annoying! "Annoying!" "I'm also going to cut off your alcohol privileges until you do it." Mirajane chirped in. That did it. Laxus groaned and approached Wendy. "I'll be your Jupiter- but only because I'm being forced into it." he shot a glare at his team as he climbed onto the stage. His voice was emotionless when he spoke.

"I am Jupiter. God of thunder and lightning. Fear me." Natsu snickered at the lackluster performance, "That's all ya got? C'mon, man! Do some special effects or something!" Laxus was more than happy to strike Natsu with lightning. While the Salamander lay on the ground in pain, Wendy continued, "Jupiter promised the woodcutter three wishes!" "Alright, dumbass, listen up." Laxus grabbed Natsu by the scarf and yanked him into a standing position, "The first three wishes you make will come true, got it?" Natsu nodded, he opened his mouth to speak but Laxus quickly covered it, "So don't waste them on dumb shit." Laxus dropped Natsu onto the ground again and hopped off of the stage, grumbling bitterly as he returned to his seat. "With those words, Jupiter returned to the sky!" Wendy narrated, happily, "But the woodcutter raced home to his wife."

Lucy walked in and set up a table and two chairs, before taking a seat at the table. Natsu raced over gleefully, "WE'RE GONNA BE RICH!!!!" he cheered. "What?" Lucy exclaimed, "How?!" "The woodcutter told his wife the story." Wendy narrated. "We have to be careful with our wishes, Natsu. We'll sleep on it and make the wishes tomorrow morning." Lucy suggested, "I'll go make dinner you start the fire." Natsu nodded, "I'm good at that." Natsu enthusiastically set the nearby barrel on fire (the one they had used as a lake in the last story) and put his feet up on the table.

"Man this fire looks tasty." Natsu thought aloud, "I wish I had a sausage too!" Mirajane threw a sausage onstage and Natsu stared down at it, ". . . Oh no." "Natsu!! You idiot!!" Lucy yelled angrily, "We could've had gold, diamonds, jewels- And you wish for a sausage?!!" "It was an accident!" Natsu defended.

"I can't believe i ever made friends with someone like you!" Lucy ranted on. "Hey! I said it was an accident!" Natsu was starting to grow angry. "This is the stupidest thing you've ever done! And you've done a lot of stupid things-" "I wish the sausage was stuck on your nose!!!" Natsu yelled angrily. Lucy gasped as she picked up the sausage and held it to her nose. "NATSU!!!!!!"

"Oh no! We only have one wish now!" Natsu realized, ignoring his 'wife's' plight, "What should I use it for?!" "I have a sausage stuck on my nose!!!!" Lucy scolded. Natsu sighed, "I wish my wife didn't have a sausage on her nose. . ." he grumbled. The sausage fell to the ground. "And so the woodcutter and his wife learned a valuable lesson!" Wendy announced, proudly as the duo left the stage. "Man, Lucy, why do you always gotta mess things up?" "I messed it up? I think you read the wrong story pal-"

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butlercarter01-blog · 5 years

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wongshuhui · 6 years

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SANTORINI DAY 3, 4 & 5

We spent the entire first day drifting in and out of sleep. Awake only to have lunch (with a view, that we paid a hefty price for) and for dinner. We booked a volcanic tour for the following day at 11am and was realllly excited for it bcos it meant we got to take the donkey or cable car up or down to or from the port yay!!

I awoke at 3.30am bcos my body clock was sooo adjusted to waking up early on normal days at home. Waited for him to wake up, and then had the korean spicy noodles for breakfast (I can’t help it it’s the asian in me!!) went out for a meal and then took the donkey ride down. oMG I was freaking out, maybe i wasn’t that used to it then but i felt like i was going to fall off the donkey for the entire 20 mins of the ride.

We finally reached the port, had a cup of freshly squeezed orange juice (their orange juices are amazing) only to be told that the tour today is canceled due to bad weather. Oh well, things happen. Sometimes unfortunate things. We decided to the tour the next day instead. So we headed back up ON THE DONKEY AGAIN. it wasn’t scary this time. I guess we were used to it plus we were heading up not going down. Our donkeys seemed to be in some kind of non- comprehensive competition, freaked us out a little but it was ok.

And then began the hike to Oia for the sunset!!!!! Thank you for accompanying me to hike, bcos i really wanted to do it. I didn’t know it would be a death hike lol. we took 3 hours to complete 9.6km of steep slopes, bendy roads and rocky paths. our soles were KILLING us but we pushed through, powered through, ALL FOR THE SUNSET. And it was worth it. So. Very much. Worth it. I have never felt so much in love with the world.

We then took the bus back (thank god), grabbed a bite at Fira and then headed back to our airbnb and crashed. What a day.

I woke up at 3.30am again as usual and waited for him to open his eyes. Turns out, we both forgot about the 11am volcanic tour and dilly dallied around the bnb. So we decided to head to Akrotiri and the Red Beach (which turned out be another death hike btw) the Red Beach was a bit of a disappointment tbh. The coast was so dirty and littered i didn’t even want to step on the sand, i just stood on the rocks from a distance. The view was, as usual, breathtaking.

Santorini just takes my breath away.

We took a cab back to Fira for 20 Euros (bcos i was beyond exhausted from waking up at 3.30am EVERYDAY since i landed in europe) and he dropped us off at the main square where all the buses were.

Me: “Hey it’s the bus to Oia. Wanna go? See the sunset again?”

Him: “Hmmm aren’t you tired?”

Me: “But it’s such a waste, we are already here in Santorini”

Him: “ya i agree, we are already here. it would be such a waste. hmmm.. let’s go!”

And we did.

Halfway through an early dinner though, Ryanair very conveniently decided to email me about our flight out to Rome for the next day. IT WAS CANCELED. So we very frantically looked for alternatives to get to Rome the next day bcos we have already paid for accommodation, tours etc. And i didn’t want to let a stupid airline ruin my 6 days left of holiday?! So we did. We booked the next earliest flight out to Rome (3.30pm). Which is why we are seated here in Athens macdonalds, with 6 hours to spare before our flight to Rome. hopefully the travel insurance covers for all the additional expenses we had to incur for Ryanair’s flight cancelation.

Ok, Rome, you are gonna be great.

Looking forward to seeing you.

Santorini, you were a romantic dream come true.

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