"YOU HAVE A GUN? WELL I HAVE THE POWER OF GOD AND ANIME ON MY SIDE!"
EVERYONE KNEW THAT THE CITY OF MAGNOLIA WAS RUN BY GANGSTERS. THE city was divided into zones each run by one of the six dragons, they were deadly, heartless mobsters who left a t...
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MAKAROV LIKED TO TRICK HIMSELF INTO BELIEVING THAT LAXUS WASN'T A COMPLETE ASSHOLE. He enjoyed the fake pleasure of believing that he had raised a polite, kind, well-mannered young man who just so happened to be the head of one of the richest gangs in the city. If you removed the bitchy attitude, then he would be a total catch. Tall, muscular, rich– Makarov could have had great-grandchildren by now if it wasn't for the hide-the-money y'all-there-poor-people-round-with-your- broke-ass attitude.
Unfortunately, Skiadrum (Rogues father) had the privilege of a well-mannered, polite and kind son. Makarov was stuck with an asshole son and an asshole grandson.
F in the chat for old man Makarov.
God why is life so fucking hard. He thought.
The old man let out an exhausted sigh as he slipped over a file to his grandson. "This is the blueprints for the club, as well as tax information and other adult bullshit I don't understand."
Laxus leaned forward and picked up the file. His eyes narrowed at the paper before they looked back up at Makarov. "Well lucky for you, I understand the adult bullshit, you old fool."
"Hey, I'm not a fool or old!"
Lol who's gonna tell him. Laxus thought as he stood up. That's something Y/N would say. Ew.
His face scrunched up as if he ate twenty war heads, two lemons and a lime. Why the hell am I thinking about her so much? As of late, thoughts of the crackhead had been plaguing his mind. Every time he saw a slush machine, he would think about the about the colour of her lips that one time. A vibrant blue. Not to mention every time he passed a McDonalds, an image of Y/N shoving two chicken nuggets down her throat popped into his head.
"You're one cough away from death old man." The younger man grumbled as he looked back at the file. The image of Y/N and her blue lips still lingered in the back of his brain.
"How long are you gone for?"
"Just one week, so don't go around and change everything or fire anyone! We're understaffed as it is."
Laxus scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Well obviously, this place hasn't changed for the last eight years. I'm surprised it isn't fucking infested with rats. (lol who's gonna tell him about Sting). Hardly anyone comes here because it's outdated– it needs to be refurbished or something." His face scrunched up in disgust as he looked around the room. "Starting in here, that desk is ugly."
Makarov choked on the air at the disrespect. "I'll have you know that your great grandfather, Yuri Dreyar, made this desk himself!"
Laxus scoffed again. "Well he didn't do a very good job at it."
