noyasbunny

She was dressed as a mischievous little fairy — glittery wings, a dark blue dress, and a ribbon tied in her hair. He tried not to look, but every time she laughed, the sound drew his eyes back.

“Oi, Shrimp,” he called gruffly when she passed by. “You planning to fly away or what?”

Levy turned with a grin. “Maybe I will! I think I’d look good in the stars.”

“Tch,” Gajeel muttered, but his smirk betrayed him.

It was supposed to be a lighthearted night — tricks, pranks, and maybe some harmless fun. But Fairy Tail never did “harmless.”

Levy had gone outside later with Jet and Droy to scare some of the younger guildmates. She carried a few illusion runes she’d been working on, giggling as she activated them near the trees. The air shimmered with glowing shapes — ghostly wisps dancing in the mist.

Then, the laughter died.

A darker presence stepped out from the shadows — a cloaked figure, not a guildmate. A dark mage, drawn by the power of her runes. Before she could react, he snapped his fingers, and chains of magic lashed out, binding her wrists.

“Such clever magic,” he sneered. “You’ll make a fine addition to my collection.”

Levy struggled, trying to dispel her own runes, but his enchantment was too strong. Jet and Droy tried to fight, but they were blasted back by a surge of dark energy.

“Gajeel!” Levy screamed.

And the forest answered with the sound of iron and fury.

Gajeel crashed through the trees like a storm given shape, his eyes glowing crimson in the darkness. “You picked the wrong damn night to mess with Fairy Tail,” he growled.

The dark mage turned, surprised by the iron scales forming over Gajeel’s arms. “Another one?”

“You’re about to regret that, bastard.”

The ground shook as Gajeel lunged forward, his fist morphing into a massive iron club. The mage fired a bolt of dark magic, but it shattered against Gajeel’s arm like glass. He slammed his weapon into the ground, sending shards of metal flying.

The chains around Levy snapped under the force.

The dark mage stumbled, eyes wide. “W–what are you—?”

“Her protector,” Gajeel snarled, stepping forward. “And your worst nightmare.”

With one final punch, the fight ended. The mage hit the dirt, unconscious, and the forest went still again.

Levy fell to her knees, catching her breath as the last of the chains vanished. Gajeel knelt beside her, his rough hands surprisingly gentle as they checked her wrists.

“Idiot,” he muttered. “You can’t just wander out alone on nights like this.”

Levy looked up at him, her eyes soft even as her voice trembled. “I wasn’t alone. I had Jet and Droy.”

Gajeel gave her a flat look. “Yeah, that worked out great.”

She smiled faintly despite herself. “You came for me.”

He looked away, grumbling, “’Course I did. Who else is gonna keep you outta trouble?”

Levy’s voice dropped. “Thank you, Gajeel.”

Something about the way she said it made him glance back at her — really look at her. The moonlight caught her blue hair, the glitter on her cheeks, the way she still shook slightly from the adrenaline.

Before he could overthink it, he draped his jacket over her shoulders. “C’mon, Shrimp. Let’s get you back before the rest of ‘em think ghosts are real.”

Levy tugged the jacket closer, smiling softly. “You know,” she said, voice teasing, “for a scary iron dragon, you’re kind of sweet.”

He grunted. “Say that again and I’ll drop you in a candy bucket.”

She laughed, standing on tiptoe to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Happy Halloween, Gajeel.”

His ears went red, and he turned away with a huff. “Tch. Yeah… Happy Halloween, Shrimp.”

As they walked back toward the warm lights of the guild, her hand brushed his — small and tentative. He didn’t pull away.

“I see him,” Natsu says, voice low. The man’s eyes follow a child near the fountain. His smile is wrong. Calculated. Predatory.

Lucy feels anger flare hot in her chest. Not fear. Never fear. “That’s enough,” she says. Natsu cracks his knuckles, flames flickering along his arms. “Yeah. Way past enough.”

They move together.

Lucy steps into the light first, celestial magic humming through her veins. Her presence is calm but unyielding. A wall.

Natsu circles from the other side, heat building, eyes sharp and feral. The man tries to back away. He does not get far. “Fairy Tail doesn’t look kindly on people who hurt kids,” Natsu growls.

The street erupts in magic.

Lucy’s keys flash gold as she summons, spirits moving with precision and purpose. Chains of light bind the man in place, celestial script burning like truth against lies.

Natsu strikes fast and decisive. Not reckless. Not cruel. Just justice.

The ground cracks beneath fire. The fight is over before it can become anything else.

When the Magic Council arrives, Lucy stands tall, chin lifted. She does not look away.

The children are safe. That is what matters.

Later, when the square settles and the lanterns sway gently in the night breeze, Lucy exhales for the first time.

Natsu drapes his scarf around her shoulders without a word.

“You okay?” he asks, softer now.

She nods, leaning into him. “Yeah. Thanks for having my back.”

He snorts. “Always.”

They stand there together, firelight and starlight, guarding a city that feels a little safer tonight.

Because Fairy Tail does not look away.

And neither do they.

Sword in hand. Spine straight. Eyes burning. Jellal Fernandes stands beside her, magic swirling low and controlled. His presence is quiet but immense, like the calm before a storm. “He rules through terror,” Jellal says softly. “He will not surrender.” Erza tightens her grip. “Then we will not hesitate.”

The palace doors fall.

Steel rings against magic. Erza moves like a blade given purpose, cutting through guards with precision and restraint. Jellal’s magic arcs overhead, binding, disabling, clearing a path forward. They fight not with rage, but with certainty.

At the throne room, the dictator waits. He sneers from his seat of stolen power, surrounded by spells fueled by fear and blood. He calls them rebels. Criminals. Fools who think justice still exists.

Erza steps forward. “Your reign ends tonight.”

He attacks first.

The magic is brutal and desperate, tearing into the room with wild force. Erza blocks, advances, adapts. Jellal counters with starlight and gravity, unraveling the spells piece by piece. They move together. No words. No doubt. When the dictator tries to flee, Jellal binds him in place, magic pressing down like the weight of every life he ruined.

Erza raises her sword.

“This is for the people you silenced,” she says.

The strike is clean. Final. Absolute. The magic holding the city snaps. Outside, the banners fall.

Silence spreads through the streets, then sound. Breath. Life returning.

Later, at the edge of the city, Erza removes her armor. Her hands shake now that it is over.

Jellal reaches for her, resting his forehead against hers. “You did what had to be done.”

“We did,” she corrects.