Archive of Our Own ^beta

The thing about Fairy Tail mages that you have to understand is that they are either the loudest people you meet or the absolute quietest. Cobra’s saying this in terms of reading their thoughts only—in practice, every Fairy Tail mage is the loudest motherfucker you’ll meet, with zero exceptions. Compared to them, Natsu is actually pretty blissfully quiet—the real one to watch out for is Lucy, who’s mind runs a mile a minute to the point where it’s an active effort to parse out clear thoughts from it. Natsu is clean, simple, direct—smiles when he means it and scowls when he doesn’t. 

He runs into them on his way into the guild, and Natsu immediately waves him over. Gray’s leaning, on the table next to him, already stripped down to just his pants, bickering lightly with Natsu about magic or something or the other. 

Lucy’s on the other side of the table, her head buried in a novel. Still, she manages to raise her head for a moment to say, “Kinana’s going up on stage first,” before resuming her reading. How she manages to read in this chaos is inconceivable. 

“You and me are sparring tomorrow,” Natsu declares. 

“What—Natsu, I’m sparring him tomorrow,” Gray interjects. 

Natsu sticks his tongue out at him. “It’s a Dragon Slayer event, not an Ice Mage one—.”

“I’m gonna go grab a drink,” Cobra says before Natsu and Gray can drag him into their spat. 

Mirajane—now there’s someone who’s blank, but in the kind of way that unsettles you so deeply that you end up exhausting your listening more than usual. For as much as he’s wary of her, he knows there’s reason to be wary of just about any Fairy Tail mage. After all, they’re the reason that’s brought him here in front of the bar, lights low everywhere but the guild stage, where Kinana strums that small guitar she’s been learning to play. Personally, Cobra wishes she’d also relearn to produce the kind of poison that drops people dead, but he doesn’t do as much fighting as he used to, and neither does she. Still, he kind of misses the security of her snake form, even though she’s obviously quite happy as she is. And her snake form didn’t know how to crack jokes.

Kinana makes the briefest moment of eye contact with him. In her mind, he hears: Mirajane approaching! Duck and cover!

He bites down a smile. Mirajane appears in front of him with a drink. “Dragon slayer night?” she asks. 

“Government-mandated bonding time,” Cobra says. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Just between you and me…” When he sees the look on Mirajane’s face, he frantically tries to make some kind of SOS eye contact with Kinana, but Mirajane blocks his view. Either blissfully or purposefully oblivious of his reluctance, she continues, “When Gajeel heard you were coming, he started practicing extra hard for our performance night. I’m sure it’ll be… a fun time.” 

He was expecting some kind of terrible threat from her. The prospect of Gajeel’s music—probably shitty music, if her tone is any indication—in contrast, sounds almost angelic.

“...Did she just say Gajeel’s playing?” Rogue asks. 

Cobra turns around to see Rogue hovering behind him. Now there’s someone who’s got a quiet, muffled mind. Rogue’s rather good at disappearing into the background, which fits almost disturbingly well with his Dragon Slayer powers. “Yep, you heard it right?” he says. “Excited to fanboy over him again?” 

Rogue grimaces. “Please don’t discuss my dark past,” he says. 

Sting saunters up next to him. “Did I hear something about your dark past?” 

Rogue shoots Sting a sharp glare, but melts under his gaze as Sting takes his hand. “Even I don’t think Gajeel’s singing is good,” he mutters. “It’s not like he was singing in Phantom Lord. They’re not really… that type of guild.” 

“Yeah, well, you’re not that type of person, either,” Sting replies. Cobra’s in awe at the way Sting shuffles from bravado to quiet, muted sincerity in the span of sheer seconds, especially in front of an audience. 

Cobra clears his throat. “Where’s Laxus?” he asks, a little desperately. 

“Oh, he’s hanging around somewhere by the corners of the guild,” Sting says. “You know how that guy is. Not much of a partier.” 

He downs what’s left of his drink and slides off his seat. “Well, see ya.” 

Cobra moves to the walls of the guild without waiting for a response. Sting and Rogue are fine people to have a conversation with, but every once in a while they get so emotional around each other that it’s almost embarrassing to watch. Almost, because more than embarrassing it tends to make everybody around them at least partly envious. He hadn’t been taught by a real dragon, but dragon slaying as an art and magic is powerful, isolating business, and it’s tough to look at two people and realize that they’d had each other the whole time while you were striking it out alone. 

Laxus isn’t great with the whole conversation thing, which makes him uniquely suited to Cobra’s current wish, which is to fuck off into a corner without looking like he’s avoiding everybody. Plus, they’re the only ones who aren’t dealing with the tragic loss of their dragons at a young age, so there’s probably some kind of friendship to be formed there. 

They’ve been having bi-weekly meetings for about month and a half, which is also about the time that it took for everyone to realize that Cobra wasn’t really reading every single person’s thoughts unless he was really trying to tune into them, and that he wasn’t particularly making the effort because it would give him a headache. Surprisingly, the amount of time it took for them to bully the protective guard on Cobra away from all of them was the first day they’d officially met, which doesn’t make his heart feel warm and fuzzy, but it does make him feel appreciative. 

Like before, they’d let Cobra out of prison to deal with the dragon outbreak, only this time the dragon outbreak was a theoretical one and not a real, immediate, we’re-all-gonna-die one. That was the reason they’d had time to arrange a guarding detail for him, though it had soon been done away with. 

“I mean,” Laxus had told them, “what are you going to be able to do to him that we can’t?” 

The guards had spluttered. “Well—well Fairy Tail mages are notorious for breaking the law! And Sabertooth’s under new management, so who knows how unstable it is—” 

Sparks crackled around his body. “I’ll show you some new management,” Laxus had said. “Sabertooth recently got rid of an awful guild leader that the council happily aided. You idiots let Raven Tail disrupt the match and meddle as much as they like. I’ll say it again: what can you even do?” 

Cobra hadn’t really known much about Laxus until then, but even from that first meeting he could tell that he would be a guild leader, someday.

Laxus spots him before he’s actually able to make his way over to the little niche around the stairs. He raises a hand up in greeting. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Cobra says. Laxus’s team is clustered around him, with one of the members drunkenly hanging on to his arm. “You seem like you’ve been having a good time.” 

He earns a small smile. “Ever’s pretentious as fuck about music. She decided to get drunk so she wouldn’t have to hear it.” 

“I feel like everyone I’ve talked to has mentioned Gajeel’s music,” Cobra says. “It’s like they’re trying to scare me away.” Despite the prospect of Gajeel’s awful singing, the hearts around him buzz with familiar, light-hearted tipsiness—if Gajeel’s singing is bad, it’s at least not evil. Laxus seems to be almost excited to hear it, which Cobra can’t pin down as because he has headphones and no one else does or he’s really, genuinely, looking forward to it.  

“Well, if this doesn’t scare you away, you’ll probably earn some kind of honorary Fairy Tail badge,” Laxus replies. He says it like a passing joke, but he’s not lying.

“Not worried I’ll try to kill all of you once you drop your guard?” Cobra asks. 

Laxus shrugs. “Are you?” 

“Not really planning on it, I guess.”

“There we go, then,” Laxus says. “I won’t say I’m… thrilled to be spending time with so many dragon slayers—extended time with Natsu is tiring, and I miss my team, but you’re not all terrible.”

“You looooove them,” Evergreen drawls, and Cobra feels the split-second where Laxus considers dropping her. 

Bickslow’s puppets chorus: “Love them! Love them!” and Laxus considers dropping Ever more longer than a split-second. Freed takes the moment to support Ever instead, muttering something about how she’s going to be a pain tomorrow morning. 

“Right, Wendy wanted to see you,” Laxus says at about the same time Cobra registers that polite, prodding tone that’s definitely the youngest Dragon Slayer looking for him. 

“Yeah, I hear her,” Cobra says. “Thanks for letting me know.” 

Wendy’s completely invisible in the sea of people within the guild, since she’s so short, but Cobra makes use of his other senses to track a path directly to her. She’s in conversation with a purple-haired woman who’s whittling a piece of wood into what might be a boar’s head. Wendy’s breath ghosts softly over the table they’ve commandeered, collecting the scrap piece of wood shavings into a manageable scrap pile. 

“Laxus said you were looking for me?” Cobra asks, dropping down on the seat next to her. 

Wendy turns to him, and the purple-haired woman pauses for a moment. “I’ve probably worked at this for long enough,” she admits, taking off her glasses to wipe them clean. “You can leave me now and talk with your friend.” 

“Thanks, Laki!” Wendy chirps. 

“So, what did you want to tell me?” Cobra asks. 

“Ah, I… could we step outside for a minute?” Wendy asks. 

He nods, and follows her as she weaves her way through the crowd, stopping to wave excitedly to Natsu when he spots her and gives her a thumbs up. On her way out, she picks up a bulky bag from the front. The wind outside is strong enough to give him goosebumps, but Wendy is perfectly settled. 

She chews on her lip for a second, eyes flickering left and right, before she finally blurts out, “Can I take a picture?”

“What?” 

“A picture,” Wendy says, pulling a fancy camera out from her bag. It looks almost too-large in her hands, but the way she carefully messes with it shows she knows at least something about how to use it. “I just realized—I don’t have one of you, and I already got one from everyone else…” 

Cobra laughs. “I mean—it’s fine, I guess? Sure, snap a picture. Not sure what good it’ll do you, though.” 

Wendy shakes her head. “That’s not true!” She raises the camera to his face and snaps a quick picture. “Of course, they’re not as important as the real thing, but… they remind you that things are real, or were real, or… yeah,” she finishes lamely. “I just wanted to preserve some of it.” 

He’d have wanted a picture of Cubellios, back in the day. He’d probably want a picture with Kinana now, in case anything terrible happened. As much as he’s loath to admit it, even one of the Oracion Seis would be nice.  “That’s actually a really sweet idea.”

She smiles. “I’m glad. Can you move so your back is facing the city instead of the guild?”

When he complies, Wendy mutters, “Oh, much better,” to herself, and Cobra involuntarily smiles. 

They head back after Wendy’s satisfied with how the picture looks. “Where’d you take everyone’s photos?” he asks. “Just here?”

“I tried to pick a place that fit them,” Wendy says. “So Natsu’s was at his and Happy’s place, and then at Lucy’s apartment, too.” She frowns. “I should have picked a better place for you, but I didn’t actually know if you’d agree, and I don’t… I’m not really sure what you’d like.” 

“As far as I’m concerned, any picture that’s not a mugshot is a step up for me,” Cobra says. “What about the others?”

“I took Laxus’s photo in front of the guild, and also one with the Raijinshuu. Sting and Rogue took a picture together, and they also sent me pictures of them in front of the remodeled Sabertooth. I took mine with Carla, and—and Gajeel wanted his picture to be tonight.” 

Cobra hears the unspoken Cait Shelter in her heart, and winces. “What’s Gajeel’s music like?” he asks. 

“It’s—it’s not good,” Wendy laughs, relief written plainly on her face. “But it’s very Gajeel, so it fits, you know?”

“To Gajeel’s music,” Cobra says, raising his fist out to her. It’ll have to do in place of a glass, and even if he had one, it’s not like she can reciprocate. 

Wendy laughs and bumps knuckles with him. “To Gajeel!” 

He means to correct her phrasing, because it sounds way too warm and friendly for what is, admittedly, a pretty casual night out, but the lights have faded and Gajeel starts strumming his guitar, and once he opens his mouth Cobra kind of forgets to do anything else.

Gajeel’s music isn’t bad—it’s fucking brilliant. The horrible sound of Gajeel’s voice, his discordant guitar, his half-finished melody—Cobra can’t get it out of his head. It manages to sing straight out from his heart while he’s playing and for once in his life Cobra’s mind feels utterly blank from the delight of finding an experience so overwhelming and hard to take in that there’s no room to hear anything else.

He’s still humming pieces of it the morning after when they’re all trading blows in a loose sparring session, and gets hit by a well-timed kick from Rogue he hadn’t been listening for. 

“That’s… a surprise,” Rogue says. 

“Gajeel, your music is fucking genius,” Cobra calls out to where Gajeel and Laxus are sparring. It’s enough to distract Laxus and give Gajeel the time to aim a low kick at his shins and send him to the ground. 

“Fuck yeah it is!” Gajeel crows, and Cobra drinks in the horrified faces of the five other dragon slayers. Funnily enough, out of every moment they’ve spent together, this is the first time Cobra’s seen any of them look scared of him. 

All in all, he chalks up his very first proper Fairy Tail visit as an unequivocal win.

Natsu wakes up curled up in his bed, Happy still snoring on the pillow. It’s warm enough to sleep without a blanket, and Natsu’s always run warm—strangely enough, Gray is the same, even if he runs cold, stripped down to his boxers and passed out on a beanbag chair Natsu has taken to thinking of as “Gray’s chair” in his head. Being reminded of that fact gives him the irresistible urge to pick a fight with him, and also ruffle his hair at the same time. His presence isn’t constant, but by now it’s something Natsu no longer feels surprised by. 

What’s new are Sting and Rogue curled up by the foot of the bed, Sting’s hands tangled through the locks of hair Rogue’s been growing out, legs wound around him like a man-shaped octopus. For a moment, Natsu wonders how to wake them up—if it was just Gray he’d just shake him awake, but he’s not sure if he should do the same. 

Luckily, his dilemma’s resolved when Happy wakes up with a start, and starts babbling “Where’s the fish? Where’s the fish? I know I saw it last night, where’d it go!” 

“Oh my god, shut up,” Gray groans, flinging an icicle at the source of the noise without looking. It hits the wall and promptly shatters, because when Gray’s sleepy his ice may as well be glass for how delicate it is. 

Both of them combined pull Sting and Rogue out of their sleep, who seem to even wake up at the same pace and speed, untangling themselves from each other in a measured pace like it’s easy. Natsu’s suddenly overcome with a sharp pang of envy as he remembers that Sting and Rogue had been able to say goodbye to their dragons. They’d had each other, too, someone who could carry the weight of what had happened, and understand.

“What’s up with that look on your face,” Gray says. 

“Huh?” 

“Your face,” Gray says with a wave in his direction. He squints sleepily up at Natsu. “You look like you’re thinking about something. It’s annoying,” 

“Pfft, your face is annoying,” Natsu replies. He pulls his best Gray-thinking-face and says, “that’s what you look like all the time.” 

Gray’s expression of horror washes away the unpleasant feeling in his gut. “I do not look like that!” 

“Keep believing, man,” Natsu says, and reaches out to ruffle his hair. 

“You are so—” Gray groans. “Whatever,” he mutters. “When idiots stay idiots, it’s good for Fairy Tail’s continued health.” 

“Natsu!” Sting says, bounding over to awkwardly tap his free hand in an approximation of a fist bump. How he went from sleepy to hyper-awake in seconds, Natsu has no idea. “Thanks for letting us crash here.” 

He shrugs. “Feel free to drop by whenever, you know.”

“He doesn’t have a lock, so he really means whenever!” Happy adds.  

“Well, it’s—” Sting's smile softens. “You’ve got a really nice place here. It’s pretty homey.” 

Natsu spends more time out on the road than he’s ever spent in this place, but looking at the sunlight streaming in from the window, Gray turning his attention to have a conversation with Happy, and Rogue drifting to stare at the small pieces of what Natsu does own, all pinned up on his mission board, with a gaze that’s neither pitying or insightful, just calm—it feels transformed, somehow. Like a small thing’s turned into something almost impossible to hold onto. 

“It’s not bad,” Natsu says. In a low voice, he can’t help but add, “But it’s not…” 

“It’s not your dragon,” Sting says. “I… I kind of know what you mean. Home is—it’s never going to have Weisslogia again. Me and Rogue, we were actually really jealous of you and Gajeel, growing up.” 

“Jealous?” Natsu asks. 

“Your dragons are… missing, not dead,” Sting says. “There’s still a chance to… you know?” He shakes his head before Natsu can respond. “That’s not—don’t answer that. I shouldn’t have—we should go, I’ll see you later.” 

He shuffles out the door in record time, and Rogue catches the door so he can step out and softly close it behind him. Before he does, he looks back at Natsu, and says, “Sorry. We’re both trying to be… better. See you.” 

“...Well, that was awkward.”

Natsu turns to see Gray reclining against the wall, Happy munching on a fish beside him. Traitor. “What are you still doing here?” 

Gray picks himself off the ground. “Couldn’t find my shirt,” he says. “Or my pants.” 

“Why would they be here?” Natsu asks. 

“I’m pretty sure I was still wearing my pants when I got here,” he says. “I can’t just go walking naked in the forest, anyways.” 

“You’ve done it before.” 

“Or,” Gray says, raising an eyebrow, “you could lend me a shirt?” He looks down at himself. “Pants too, actually.” 

A long silence stretches between them. Natsu wants to tug on it somehow, but you can’t touch something that’s not there, so he just sighs. “You’re returning them,” he says. 

Gray grins, reaches out, and ruffles Natsu’s hair. “I have no idea why you’re so obsessed with my hair,” he says. “Also, when you find Igneel, I’m going to spar with him. Team Natsu privileges.”

He snorts. “Sounds more like a Gray privilege.” When and not if. It’s such a simple thing, but that’s more proof than anything that Gray knows him best.

Gray’s hand pauses in his hair, cold enough to send a pleasant numbness along his scalp. “Yeah, maybe,” he says. “Come on, let’s gather up the rest of your dragon family.” 

They’re not anything close to his family—minus Wendy, because family is Team Natsu more than anything—but he can’t quite deny how nice it sounds from Gray’s mouth.

“So,” Lucy says, “how is it being around all seven of them?” 

Natsu squints at her. “And why are you so curious?”

“Well, it’s just like—seven’s really thematic, in literature. The lucky number seven, seven dragon slayers, July 7th…” She pauses at his expression and hurriedly adds, “Not that I’m saying this just because of books. It’s just—I feel like they’re the only ones who… get you?” 

“The first time we met, Cobra tried to kill me,” Natsu says. “I don’t think ‘getting me’ means reading my mind.” 

Lucy sighs. “It’s like—what does using your magic feel like?” 

“Like using magic…?” Natsu says. 

“But it’s different,” Lucy insists. “We all have some innate affinity for certain magics, and you can learn some, just by working hard, but the way it’s channeled is different. That’s why you can’t summon my spirits, and why I can’t breathe fire.” 

“You can’t breathe fire because you never met a dragon,” Natsu says. “And you don’t have a lacrima.” 

“Which is a highly experimental procedure that—” Lucy grits her teeth before she spirals off into a rant. “Not my point. My point is that the way your magic feels to you… unless we want to drag some dragons out of Eclipse Gate again, they’re the ones who’ll know what it feels like.” 

“I guess,” Natsu says. “What’s so good about that, though?” 

Lucy frowns. “What do you mean?” 

“Cobra tried to kill me. When me and Gajeel fought, it was because neither of us could stand the idea of seeing another Dragon Slayer… and mainly because he hurt you and other guild members. Laxus couldn’t actually kill me, but he tried. Sting and Rogue fought me. Wendy… Wendy’s nice. Maybe it’s because she’s young.” He fiddles with the end of his scarf. “I’m not saying I hate them, or anything. But near-death experiences aren’t kinship.” 

“Not yet,” Lucy says. “But I don’t know… I think it’s nice.” 

“Have you been talking to Yukino, or something?” Natsu asks. “Since she’s the first person you’ve met who uses keys except for… that Angel lady?” 

“Sorano,” Lucy confirms. “Yukino’s… sweet. We’ve been trading tips on how to maintain stamina. Or just… stories about the spirits. They’re… a lot to deal with. Mentally, emotionally, magically. I mean, it’s not like she… um, she didn’t—doesn’t really have the same experience. Of inheriting keys, like I did.” 

Her shoulders shrink in the way Natsu’s learned to associate with anything relating to her family. Still, she’s staring straight forward, refusing to talk about it. It’s times like this where he really recognizes her set jaw and upright posture for something more Heartfilia than just plain Fairy Tail pride. Knowing Lucy, they go hand in hand. She was a Fairy Tail mage long before she ever entered the guild, after all. 

“I think it’ll be good for you,” Lucy says. “Even if it’s weird now.”

“You’re probably right,” Natsu says. “Sting and Rogue even—they didn’t apologize, but it was like something similar?” 

She laughs. “Sting did that to me, too! I went over to help Sabertooth with some paperwork a couple of months ago and it happened. I doubt it was for the same reason, but—they’re trying.” 

When Igneel left, Natsu had wandered past mountains and hills and meadows trying to find him. He’d circled back and back and then suddenly he couldn’t even find the place Igneel had left. He’d fought off bandits and mages from dark guilds and ended up in Fairy Tail’s guild hall with the kind of scars in his heart he wouldn’t ever be able to really tell anyone else. By then he knew there was no one else in the world like him. That he was crazy. That something was wrong with him. He’d accepted he was alone then, and he was fine with it, but now—

He doesn’t mention Igneel to everyone he meets so easily now, but if did, he thinks it would be—easier, this time. Maybe someone would be able to grasp, even a little, the way Igneel smiles with his eyes before he ever did with his mouth. Not the specific color of his scales, or the warmth of his breath, but maybe the enormity of his teeth. The way a dragon could be one person but an entire planet. 

“Besides,” Lucy muses, “It’s a rite of passage at this point to fight people and befriend them. I mean, if you excluded everyone you got in a fight with from being your friends, there’s no way you’d be so close to Gray and Erza.”

“Or you.” 

“Hey! When have I ever fought with you?” 

“You’re doing it right now,” he replies, and only because she’s probably still feeling a little sentimental, Lucy grins instead of squabbling with him. 

She’ll never really get it, either, but she tries, and he’s found that her effort is pretty good on its own.

At the sight of Rogue, standing in front of the door like he’s two seconds from leaving, Gajeel sees a fresh snapshot of a kid in Phantom Troupe too nervous to speak. In Phantom Troupe, Ryos had been too scary for anyone to shoo him away, and though Rogue hasn’t ever grown out of hiding his face, Gajeel has to admit that he cut a slightly more intimidating figure as a ten year old than he does now. But at ten his face had been gaunt and his eyes hollow, and he was scary in the kind of way a ticking bomb was—you couldn’t use it like a weapon or fight against it. It would just explode, and you’d have to contain the mess. Gajeel hadn’t thought anyone would be able to defuse it at the time, but he didn’t have nice opinions about anyone at the time, either.

“Rogue,” he calls out. “Where’s your boyfriend!”

At that, Rogue darts over, his face still flushed when he takes a careful seat at the table across from Gajeel. “Did you have to yell that?” he asks. 

“Be amazed,” Gajeel says. “There’s actually not a lot of couples in Fairy Tail, you know. It’s pretty much just Alzack and Bisca.” 

“Really,” Rogue says. “But I thought—”

“There’s—sparks,” Gajeel says, smirking as he spots Laxus hovering by the guild mission board. To Rogue, it might seem normal, but he’s not wearing his headphones and the Raijinshuu are nowhere in sight, so he’s definitely just eavesdropping. Laxus acts so serious most of the time that people forget how nosy he is. Gajeel probably also has the benefit of not running into him for most of his asshole era. “You and Sting are like the only ones who’ve acted on anything, really.” 

Rogue ducks his head. “It—it took a while,” he says. “Sting’s just… persistent.” 

“Speaking of him, where is he?” Gajeel asks. “Feels like you two are always together.”

“We take solo missions every once in a while,” Rogue replies. “Mine was in the area, so I wanted to stop by.” 

“Ah, that’s why Frosch isn’t here,” he says. 

Rogue nods. “You three bring your Exceeds everywhere, don’t you? We bring them along sometimes, but not always. Don’t you ever worry?” 

“Pantherlily can fend for himself,” Gajeel explains. “Natsu was literally there when Happy was born, so you’re not going to pull them apart. Plus, he’s Natsu’s best form of transport. And I can’t imagine separating Wendy from Carla, either.”

“Makes sense,” Rogue concedes. His foot taps softly against the wood floors. 

“So, you here for anything?” Gajeel asks. “Or did you just come to hang around?” 

“I mean, I guess we have to see each other more often now,” Rogue says. “But I thought it might be nice to like, go out?” 

“Like, as a group?” 

“Yeah,” Rogue says, staring hard at the table. “Like non-government-mandated bonding, I guess.” 

“Well, Wendy and Laxus are both here,” Gajeel says, beckoning Laxus over with a casual wave of his hand. “You’ve never really been in Magnolia proper, have you? We can show you the sights.” 

“Oh—right now?” Rogue asks. 

Gajeel shrugs. “It sounds like a good idea. I don’t have better plans, and that guy—” he jabs his finger at Laxus, who leans over the table with a scowl— “is definitely up to nothing.” 

“You clearly think so highly of me,” Laxus mutters. 

Gajeel mock-salutes him. “Gotta make an honest evaluation of our future guild master,” he says. “Anyways, I was right, wasn’t I?”

Laxus snorts. “For some reason, you seem the most excited for my old man to retire,” he says, and then looks at Rogue with a careful gaze. “Sure, why not,” he says. 

With that settled, Gajeel casts his gaze around to locate Wendy, and spots her sitting next to Juvia. A perfect combo, in this situation.    

“Juvia,” Gajeel drawls, pulling her attention from a few tables away. She’s working her way through some kind of embroidered handkerchief next to Wendy, and she pauses to tie off a stitch before making her way over to them. 

“Gajeel,” she responds primly. “What’s going on?” 

“I was going to ask Wendy if she wanted to come with us to just explore Magnolia a little,” he says. “Aren’t you the person who’d best know what places are fun?” 

She sniffs. “...Juvia is pretty knowledgeable,” she allows. “But Wendy is going on a mission with Juvia today. She won’t be able to accompany you.” 

“Please go without me!” Wendy hurries to say. “You should definitely have a good time.” 

Rogue frowns. “We can always go some other time, if you want to come along,” he says. 

She shakes her head. “Another time, maybe, but I think you should go anyway. It’ll be fun.”

“Anything you want us to get while we’re out?” Laxus asks. 

After tilting her head in careful consideration, she says, “Take some pictures while you’re out. I want to save them.” 

“Juvia knows the perfect spot!” Juvia cries suddenly, and pulls out a small notepad to scribble down an address. “There’s an arcade that’s a little bit of a walk from here, and it has a really nice photo booth!”

“Oh, that sounds nice,” Wendy says. 

“I don’t know if a photo booth is really my speed…” Gajeel says, wondering how he can circle around going to some kiddie arcade without dashing Wendy’s hopes.”

“And,” Juvia adds, a knowing glint in her eyes, “They have Magipocalypse 2.”  

“That’s the best edition,” Laxus says, almost reflexively. He looks to Gajeel. “You’ve played Magipocalypse?” 

“Fuhhh… Yeah, I do,” Gajeel replies. Laxus smiles in response, but he doesn’t know if it’s from appreciation or Gajeel’s pitiful attempts at trying to not curse around Wendy. 

“Of course, Juvia holds the high score in the arcade,” Juvia sniffs, her chin raised arrogantly. “So Gajeel and Laxus will have to try hard to beat it.”

“You’re on, rain woman,” he says. Juvia passes the address to him, and he tucks it into his pocket. 

“You ever played Magipocalypse?” Laxus directs to Rogue

“Ah,” Rogue says. “Not really. Sting was much more a fan of Dance Dance Retribution, and I… the arcade near Sabertooth is connected to a laser tag place. I spent most of my time there.” 

“Juvia is banned from laser tag,” Juvia says mournfully. “Water Body is not good for the suits.” 

“Juvia is banned from most games,” Gajeel parrots. “On account of being too competitive.” 

“...Maybe so?” she replies. “Why don’t you try beating Juvia, then?” 

“Well,” Gajeel says. “You heard her. Might as well head out.” 

“I didn’t realize you and Juvia were close,” Rogue says on their way there. 

“She was easily the strongest of the Element Four,” Gajeel says. “So that’s why we associated with each other.” 

“Still,” Rogue says. He’s quiet for a minute or two before he finally says, “It’s hard to imagine either of you… having friendships in Phantom Troupe. I don’t remember seeing either of you with each other.” 

“That’s true,” Gajeel says. “It was more like… we worked together okay on missions, the few times we needed to. Everybody else likes to pretend that they’re trying to make friends, even if they’re not. But Juvia was stone-cold. Pretty much no one could talk to her until she joined Fairy Tail.” 

“I see,” Rogue says. “And you were the same.” 

“I was a horrible person,” Gajeel says, keeping his voice level. “There was nothing good about me in Phantom Troupe. I know you… admired me, or something, but I mean it. Nothing good.” 

“I didn’t—I know what you mean, but it wasn’t admiration,” Rogue sighs. “It’s harder to explain, but I don’t—it’s not like I regret it.”  

“You’re not awful,” Laxus grumbles. “And one of the first things you did was fight for Fairy Tail once you joined—you weren’t a half-bad challenge for me. Add to that the correspondence with Raven Tail, and you’ve done more for this guild than I ever have.” 

“Raven Tail’s not your fault,” Gajeel says. “Your dad is a dick. It happens. Happened to me, too.” 

Rogue frowns. “Metalicana…? Or someone else—”

“No, it was him—” Gajeel sighs. “It’s not… he wasn’t bad, but sometimes I look back and I just think—he taught me how to fight. And it’s good he did, because he up and left and that’s what I needed, but… sometimes I think I should’ve learned how to talk, too. That came a lot later, and from people who were even worse than him.”

“Natsu almost burnt the guild to a crisp, first time,” Laxus offhandedly mentions. 

Gajeel blinks at him. “He still almost burns the guild to a crisp.” 

“No, but he was doing it on purpose. That guy had a lot of… issues, when Igneel left. Trust me, he’s way calmer than he used to be.”

“Why are you telling me this?” he asks. 

“Losing your dragon… it’s hard,” Rogue says. “I’m sure Laxus is saying that—well, you can improve from where you’ve been before. It’s not like everyone is magically better than you.” 

“What the kid just said,” Laxus agrees.  “For what it’s worth, I think you turned out alright.” 

“I know you said there’s nothing to admire, Gajeel,” Rogue says, “but… I think even in Phantom Troupe, you were strong. And strength is… not always good, I know. But I remember being much, much, younger than I am and when I looked at you, I could see myself surviving.”

It feels like there’s a stone lodged in his throat. “...I see why you and Sting are the two that stuck together,” he finally says. “Where did you learn all that emotional honesty?” 

Rogue raises an eyebrow. “Well, some time ago, someone told me I should stop being such a pretentious prick and stand up for what I wanted. And then he showed me just how good he was at fighting back.” 

“Wow,” Laxus says. “Sounds like a great guy.” 

Gajeel stares hard at the floor. He doesn’t think he’s ever going to be kind, but— 

He cracks a smile. “He’s alright.” 

Rogue’s never had a proper conversation with Juvia Lockser before, but he simultaneously feels intensely jealous of her and that he wants, more than anything, for her to be here. It’s probably just the outcome of existing next to someone for so long, he thinks. She seems like almost an entirely different person from his hazy recollection of her, but she carries this self-assuredness in how she acts with Gajeel that he desperately wants to have. Even Laxus has more of that easy conversation, and as far as Rogue was aware, Gajeel and him weren’t even too close. 

But he supposes that’s just the kind of familiarity that Fairy Tail forces into you. Even now that they’ve rebuilt and redefined what they want Sabertooth to be, it’s hard to ever think they’ll be anything like it. That’s not something that leaves him wanting, really—Fairy Tail works precisely because it’s the only guild that operates the way it does. Rogue doesn’t necessarily think he’d feel comfortable in it. He runs from neutral to appreciative about most guild members, which is certainly an improvement from before, but he wouldn’t go to the point of really calling any of them family. 

Gajeel’s only gotten cooler over the years, too. They’re just about the same age now, but it’s still weird to not feel like a quasi-kid whenever he’s walking next to him, noting the steady, powerful way he walks—not with bravado but plain assurance. The kind of aura that makes people think twice before even looking. 

The two kids hanging around the Magipocalypse 2 set scatter pretty much as soon as they walk through the door, and Rogue immediately feels guilty. He doesn’t have much time to linger in the feeling when Laxus tosses one of the brightly colored pistols into his hands. “You’ve never played, so I guess I’ll explain. Just funnel magic through this like a lacrima and shoot. Don’t die.” 

“O…kay,” Rogue says, as Laxus deposits a few Jewels into the coin slot before pressing play. “How does Juvia have the high score if it’s a two-player game?” 

“She’s got two hands,” Gajeel says, leaning next to him to get a better view of the screen. “Don’t shoot too hard—the pistol overloads if you charge too much magic into a shot.” 

Rogue experimentally spins the pistol in his grip. He sees an enemy on screen, but before he can pull the trigger, Laxus has shot at it, a lightning crackle zipping through the magic bullet the makes the screen glitch a little before reforming. 

Gajeel whistles. “Way too much power,” he says. “How’s it still that fast?” 

“Lightning’s compatible,” Laxus says, and fires down two more. “Doesn’t take long for the charge to convert. Sometimes it just doesn’t.” 

An enemy flashes up on Laxus’s side of the screen. Rogue takes the shot. The pull from magic to gun doesn’t feel as weird as he’s anticipated, so he gets to work, decimating Laxus’s side of the screen. 

With a start, he realizes that it’s been a while since he’s competed with Sting in just about anything. They’re still… working out how to be better people and everything, and they rarely do Dragon Slayer training together because it’s not necessary for them, but even outside of it they tend to work as a team and never really against each other. It’s not a bad thing—a few months ago, Rogue probably would’ve had a panic attack if he sparred with Sting and would have dreamed about killing him for the next week. Though a few months ago, Rogue was still having panic attacks and dreaming about killing Sting, so maybe it wouldn’t have made much of a difference except that Sting would have maybe gotten concerned a lot faster. 

“What the fuck, Gajeel,” Laxus says, and Rogue blinks out of his daze. Laxus is standing in front of the ‘GAME CLEAR’ sign displayed brightly “You didn’t tell me he was good.” 

Rogue smiles. “Sting and I worked for a sharpshooter as bodyguards a couple years back. We picked up a few things—kind of had to, or he’d get assassinated, I guess.” He eyes the scoreboard. “Juvia’s really good at this though.”

Rogue and Laxus’s combined score is sitting somewhere in the top twenty listings of the leaderboard, but Juvia’s name dominates most of the top ten, the usernames of RAIN and WOMAN sparkling at the top of the list with a highscore that more than doubles what Rogue and Laxus scored. 

“We’ll get higher next time, now that you’re used to it,” Laxus says, holding his hand up. 

Rogue stares at it for a few seconds, and at Laxus’ confused, almost embarrassed expression, finally realizes what it’s for and returns the high-five with a solid clapping sound as their palms meet. Rogue doesn’t even talk as loudly as that high-five, most of the time. 

“Gajeel, you should play, too,” Rogue says, motioning for Gajeel to take his gun. 

Gajeel frowns. “You sure?” he asks. “You can play another round, if you want…” 

Rogue shakes his head. “I want to see how good you are at the game,” he says. “I can play with the winner.” 

At that, Gajeel cackles in that rough, guttural gihihihi sound that doesn’t seem nearly as scary as it did when Rogue first saw him, and takes the offered gun. 

They play a few more rounds, and Rogue eventually teams up with Laxus to crack the top ten (handling both guns on his own feels like too much for him, still, and he thinks that he’s just the type of person who works better in twos) before they eventually remember Wendy’s request and amble over to the cramped photobooth. 

By all respects, it’s actually a fairly large photobooth, enough that Rogue and Gajeel stumble in with enough elbow room for Gajeel to stick him in a headlock and drag him in. 

Rogue laughs. “I’m just saying, it’s your favorite game,” he wheezes, “and you haven’t even cracked the leaderboard?” 

Gajeel grins. “Maybe when the idiots programming the guns know how to respond to Dragon Slayer magic—wait, how the hell did it work so fast for you? Laxus I get—it turns just right back into pure lacrima energy for him, but you…?” 

He smiles upwards as the first shutter of the photo goes off. “I’ve got a lacrima too, remember?”  

“Oh shit,” Gajeel says in lieu of a proper response, and pulls Laxus into the photobooth before the photos can finish snapping. 

Rogue takes the opportunity to weasel out of Gajeel’s grip and shuffle a little closer to the wall of the photobooth so that Laxus can slip in. But by the time he’s adjusted himself to the now cramped fit of the booth, and ready to plaster on his photo face, the screen blinks with the message that their photos are already done. 

Laxus huffs. “See Gajeel, you can’t fucking rush these things, otherwise it’s just a waste of money… huh.” He holds up the copies of the photos they’ve taken. There’s two strips of the same four photos, and Rogue’s surprised to find that even though the second and third ones are blurry and he never makes eye contact with the camera, he’s smiling in front of all of them. 

He finds himself reminded of what Sting had told him, once, during one of their many, many late-night conversations.

“See, Rogue,” he’d said. “It’s not like you don’t smile. You smile all the time if people are looking for it. Maybe it’s not as obvious, but—it’s definitely there.”

Sting had smiled then, wide and open and so beautiful that Rogue couldn’t even tell him he didn’t remember smiling that often at all, but if Sting thought he did, it was fine, since he was smiling like that.

“You don’t try to smile when you’re not happy,” Sting had said. “It’s one of the things that I like so much about you. You’ve got a really nice smile, Rogue—it’s just one that’s a little harder to capture.” 

Here that smile is, captured on camera. And it’s obvious, in a way that even Rogue can’t deny how happy he looks. 

“They turned out pretty nice, huh?” Gajeel asks. 

Laxus turns to Rogue and says, “Do you want the spare? Wendy’s obviously going to want one, but—I feel like you’d want this.” 

He swallows hard. “Yeah, I’d like to have a copy. Thanks.” 

“No big deal,” Laxus says. “We should probably take another set of photos, right? Wendy can’t go around thinking I’m heartless, after all.” 

Rogue laughs before he can help himself. 

Laxus turns to him. “What?”

“No, it’s just—” Rogue smiles at his feet. “It’s very obvious how dearly you care for the people around you.” He sighs. “I mean, even people like me and Sting—you’re very kind.” 

Laxus wrinkles his nose. “Jeez, now I get what Gajeel means.”

“What?”

“You two are too good for your own good,” Laxus says, and strangely enough, ruffles Rogue’s hair. “Seriously, just—lighten up a little. You’re a good guy, too.” Then he pauses and adds,  “Your hair’s going to come out terrible in these photos.” 

Rogue fruitlessly tries to pat down the flyaways that have sprung up around his ponytail, and then gives up with a sigh. They squeeze into the photobooth together again, and take a series of photos that are sure to make Wendy smile. Still, Rogue can’t help but feel like that first set—messy, rushed, joyful—are the best of them all. 

Sting wakes up with a soft, warm heat at his back, He yawns, getting his bearings, and then reaches up to the nightstand, grabbing his phone to blearily check for any texts or emails. 

The first notification is from Natsu, reading out: Wendy and me are headed up to your region for a hike. Wanna tag along? (Rogue too) 

Sting has to blink a few times to make sure the message is real. Then he texts back: Yeah ofc!!!!

Rogue’s arms, circled around his stomach, shift at the movement, and he stirs, blinking slowly into his pillow. “Mornin’,” he says. “What’s got you so…” 

“Natsu just texted,” Sting says. “He and Wendy are coming up to Sabertooth to see the sights and stuff. Wanna come?”

Rogue yawns. “I’m going to sleep in,” he says. “You should go. I feel like having a quiet day.” With that said, he loosens his grip around Sting, turns around, and promptly conks out again. 

Sting stares at him for a moment, basking in the way Rogue looks in the mornings, and then hops out of bed, stretching until he feels awake enough to not fall asleep in the bathroom. 

His phone lingers in his hand like a solid weight, before he finally sends: Rogue’s not really up for it, but I’m still good to go! What time are you guys gonna be there? I can meet you wherever is easiest.

We’ll be out by Sabertooth in an hour, Natsu replies. 

Yukinoooooo, Sting immediately texts while he rushes through the process of getting ready, Natsu and Wendy are gonna be here today!!!!

When he emerges from the shower, there’s a pristine, short text at the top of his notifications.   

So? 

So the guild has to look NICE! 

Cool down, the guild looks fine, she replies. 

Okay sure it looks fine but does it look NICE? 

…Sure it does. Don’t worry too hard. 

Yukino!!! Now I’m MORE worried!

Fairy Tail LITERALLY trashes their guild weekly, she texts. The bar is so low, please cool down. Are you giving a tour?

We’re meeting up there and then going hiking. 

Whoo so he’s gonna be there for five seconds. You’ll live. Natsu’s nice. 

Sting tucks his phone into his chest pocket, wakes up Lecter and Frosch, and messes with his hair for another ten minutes before heading down to the Sabertooth guild hall. As expected, Yukino’s there, phone laid face down on the table. 

What’s not expected is the bright pink and blue heads of hair sitting next to her. Before Sting can say anything, Lecter and Frosch jump from his arms and head over to where Happy and Carla are sitting on the table. 

“Hey, Sting,” Yukino says. “Natsu and Wendy arrived early. I was just telling them about the paint color we used in our coffee corner—alabaster, right?” 

 “It’s white dove,” he corrects automatically, and then flushes. Natsu can’t think he’s a guy who obsesses over paint colors! “Uh, hi, Natsu. Wendy. You guys arrived early.” 

Wendy grins and motions towards where the Exceeds are sitting. “I think they’ve been training! I even brought a camera along, but she didn’t slow down.” 

Natsu raises a hand from where he’s sitting. “How’s Rogue?” he asks, twirling one of Yukino’s keys in his hand.

Sting shrugs. “I mean, yeah?” 

“Huh,” Natsu says. “Okay.” He’s still fiddling with Yukino’s key, probably out of mild curiosity, but Sting recognizes the look on Yukino’s face as something tinged with just a little separation anxiety. 

He’s wondering how to break the subject for her when Wendy adds, “He’s not sick, right? We were wondering if he’s feeling okay… I can heal! If that’s something you need.” 

He laughs. “Oh, um, no, Rogue’s just… really introverted,” he explains. “He’s sleeping in and then he’s just going to have a quiet day in, you know? He gets tired out from being too social, that’s all.” 

“You’re not going to be able to summon Pisces,” Yukino cuts in, holding her hand out. “Unless there’s something else you wanted to find out?” 

“Nah,” Natsu says, easily placing Yukino’s key back in her palm. “Just testing something Lucy said.” He nods towards Sting. “You ready to head out?” 

Sting points towards the small bag on his back. “All set.” 

“Are the Exceeds going to be coming along?” Yukino asks. She motions over to the four, who are engaged in a game of cards that Frosch is either winning amazingly or losing terribly.   

“Lecter, Frosch, you want to go on a hike?” he asks. 

“Frosch is winning!” Frosch says. “Frosch will stay.” 

The other Exceeds look to be in agreement, so Sting shrugs and asks, “There's a specific way you wanna go, Wendy? There’s a lot of nice picture spots.” 

“I was thinking about the mountains in the east,” Wendy says. “I heard there are some really huge birds!” 

“Oh, Wendy, before you go,” Yukino says. “I could take a picture of you guys here? That way all three of you will be in the picture.” 

“Ah… could you?” Wendy asks. “The daylight’s pretty nice today, so just outside Sabertooth would be nice—if it’s no trouble, that is.” 

“I can use a camera fine,” Yukino says. “Or NICE, if you’re talking to Sting. 

They all gather around the brick walls of Sabertooth’s entrance, Wendy in the center of the two of them, Sting and Natsu standing awkwardly while Wendy smiles eagerly at the camera. 

Natus’s phone beeps in the middle of Yukino taking a picture, and he fishes it out. His eyes quickly scan the screen before he snorts and holds it out to the two of them. “We’ve got a challenge.” 

Sting is too stupid/nice to mention it, but he’s probably glad to spend time with you on his own, Natsu, Rogue’s text reads. Also, if Wendy’s there, tell her I expect her pictures to come out better than our arcade ones. Though I’d say they’re pretty hard to beat :p (Sting, that’s aimed at you if you read this) 

“Oh, it’s on,” Sting says. “Wendy, you’re going to look as cute as possible. Me and Natsu are going to make a giant heart around you and then Rogue will wish he chose to add effects to their photobooth pictures. They’re not nearly as cute as us.” 

In his periphery, Natsu smiles, short and quick, but enough to ease some of the tension Sting’s been feeling. “...Aren’t you supposed to say Rogue is the cutest person in the world? Since, you know…” 

Sting laughs. “I think we’ll always be friends before we’re ever boyfriends? One is kind of new but I know the other one is always going to be forever. And part of being friends is about being ruthlessly competitive.” 

At that, Natsu cracks a smile. “Yeah, for sure,” he says. “You ever made a huge heart with your arms before?”

“How hard can it be?” Sting asks. 

The answer is significantly more adjusting than Sting initially believed, but at the end of a few minutes of readjusting, Yukino says, “Oh, that photo came out really nice. I think you guys might just have Rogue beat.” 

The three of them crowd around the camera Yukino’s holding, and he has to agree. They’re all smiling wide, skin wrinkling at the corners of their eyes, and when Sting sneaks a quick glance at Natsu, he’s surprised to find that they’re both looking at each other, and it feels far more comfortable than it does awkward. He takes a blurry pic of the camera’s displayed image and sends it to Rogue with the message: Take that! <3

One thing that Sting’s learned about Natsu today is that while he’s usually in a pretty good mood, he’s a lot quieter than Sting had thought. Maybe he’s just really into hiking, though. Sting’s been up and down these mountains with Rogue hundreds of times at this point, so it’s nothing new to him, but Natsu gazes out into the distance as they’re scaling a small cliff, taking a moment to absorb the view before making his way towards the top. 

Wendy is much the same, only much worse for Sting’s heart, because she keeps using both her hands to take pictures—baby birds, trees and some light, a flower through some cracks—and Sting has to scramble to catch her before she boosts herself up with some Sky Dragon Magic. Without an Exceed, she would probably be the fastest out of the three of them, but she takes her time, and Sting’s more than happy to let her. 

“I’m really happy you decided to come along,” Wendy says, just a few minutes from the top of the mountain. “It’s nice to spend time together, isn’t it?” 

“It is nice,” Natsu says. “Dragon Slayers and all that.” 

“Well,” Sting says thoughtfully, “since this used to be where Rogue and I spent a lot of our time… it’s kind of like a Dragon Slayer mountain, right?” 

They both smile at that.

At the top, Natsu and Sting rest while Wendy sets up her camera. Whenever he looks down at the vast expanse of land beneath the mountain, Sting tends to feel small, but when he looks at Wendy, staring calmly out into the sky, he feels like he’s seeing her larger than life for the first time. Up here, it’s easier than ever to recognize the Sky of Sky Dragon Slayer in her. 

There’s an eagle circling overhead, and when he squints, Sting can see the imprints of its wings on Wendy’s back—larger, bigger, more powerful than most people realize. 

Laxus is minutes away from snapping and challenging everyone in this room to a duel, which Freed had told him was technically an authorized way of changing laws, but there’s a lot of hoops to jump through and, “...it has to be administered by a council member of sufficient strength—which I guess the Wizard Saints are honorary council members, so it would technically work, but—Laxus. Laxus, we can’t do that. It’s not good to exploit a rule we know can only benefit us, and it’s probably not good to beat up everyone to make them do what we want. Even though you’re right. It’s just probably not—” 

“I know,” he’d groaned, “I just get… really angry.” 

Freed had offered to write some runes into his hand to keep his magic from sparking off, and because he knew Laxus was paranoid, carefully showed him how exactly to rewrite the runes about five times until Laxus could do it in seconds. 

Despite all that precaution, Freed’s rune-writing leans towards exceptionally kind when it comes to him, so they have enough give that Laxus is minutes away from snapping their bonds through sheer strength alone. 

“What is wrong with everyone here,” he says instead. 

Jura raises an eyebrow but also firmly doesn’t make eye contact with him, either because he’s still sore about his recent loss in the Grand Magic Games or he’s being diplomatic as the highest-ranking Wizard Saint to actually attend these inane Magic Council discussions. Or maybe it’s because Laxus isn’t really supposed to be here, witnessing this discussion in the first place, but hell if he was going to let people make decisions about Dragon Slayers completely unchecked. Fairy Tail breaks as many laws as they want, usually, but Laxus would rather keep that count to a minimum.

“Mr. Dreyar,” the mediator in charge of the discussion says. His voice sounds as stuffy as Lahar, except he’s clearly not Lahar since Lahar was annoying but at least had the capability of reason, and this guy isn’t capable of much of anything. 

“Mr. Dreyar was my father,” Laxus interrupts. “You call Gramps Master Makarov, don’t you? Least you could do is use my name—Laxus. No title needed.” 

“Laxus,” the mediator begins, “We’ve invited you here only as a formality—” 

“I wasn’t invited,” Laxus cuts in. “But I’m not going to sit around while you talk about humans like they’re cattle—” 

“We are trying to discuss the results of this collaboration,” another council member hisses. “Of which there are none, because there’s been a blatant lack of oversight—” 

“We have our monthly meetings,” Laxus says. “We train. We spar. What more do you want?” 

“Monthly meetings—music nights! Festival attendance, with a criminal on the loose among you—are those what you call meetings?” someone else shouts. “You’ve been tasked to do your civic duty and defend Fiore from dragons but there’s been no progress at all! No battle formations, no attack strategies, nothing!” 

Laxus yawns. “Are you done?” he asks, and watches their face turn red with anger. “Battle formations… attack units—that’s for wartime. We’re guild members. We’ve been training to get stronger together—secrecy is a weapon, too, so I’m not going into the details of everything, but everyone’s gotten stronger. We’re dragon slayers, sure—we’ll fight dragons, but they’re not here. They’ll never be, unless you idiots try anything with Lucy or Yukino again.” He raises an eyebrow. “Unless there’s something else you want with the Dragon Slayers.” 

“Laxus,” the mediator says. “You, Sting Eucliffe, Rogue Cheney, and that criminal Cobra should not even be in possession of half your magic. Dragon Slayer lacrimas are highly experimental, rare, and none are produced within government-regulated entities. Natsu Dragneel, Gajeel Redfox, and Wendy Marvell are Fiorians with no official records, documents, anything—who knows what’s wrong with them, too. Dragon Slaying magic is a highly dangerous, old magic, and it’s about time the rest of the public was aware!” 

A murmur of agreement rises amongst the council members.

“So you do want to control us,” Laxus says, leaning back in his chair. With a quick swipe of his hands, the runes on his wrist unravel and his magic sparks throughout the room, charging people’s hair with static. 

“Fairy Tail agreed to collaborate with other guilds because we were still adjusting to the seven year change, and learning from other mages is the best way to improve. That’s all. We’re a guild with our own rules, just like every other one included in our agreement. We didn’t agree to become some weird subsidiary of the Magic Council. You don’t have any hold over us.” 

When he stands up to leave, the mediator announces, “That’s not completely true,” with the smuggest voice Laxus has ever heard. “The Dragon Slayer known as Cobra is under the Magic Council’s custody. It’s our right to do what we wish with him.” 

Laxus pauses, and reigns his magic in. A ripple shudders through the room as the hair that’s been sticking on arms, seats, and the like suddenly floats back down to resting position. 

“You were right,” Laxus says. “Dragon Slaying is an ancient art that most don’t know about. That’s why it’s us, Dragon Slayers, who will figure it out. We’ll work together, but on our terms, not yours.” He pauses. “Also, Cobra isn’t going back to prison,” he adds. “He’s one of us, now. Take it up with Lahar if you’ve got an issue—he leads that kind of stuff, right?” 

With a flourish of his coat, Laxus slips on his headphones and heads out of the council room. Even with how well-fitted his headphones are, he can still hear the low roar of absolute chaos behind him.

A couple days later, Laxus receives a neatly sealed letter from Lahar. It’s written in cursive script that’s so elegant it’s hard to decipher, but when Laxus finally does, Cobra slips into the seat across from him with a grin. 

He passes a beer along to Laxus, and they toast. Cobra says, “I’m no longer a criminal, it seems. Know anything about that?”

Lahar’s letter, for how fancy it is, simply reads, You’ve made my life much harder than it needs to be. 

“Magic Council,” Laxus sighs. “The poor guy in charge of your custody has given up on you. Says you’re too annoying to be in prison.”

Cobra laughs. “Lahar? That guy’s too okay to be part of them. Give it another year—he’s going to quit. Especially if you keep doing what you’re doing?” 

Laxus takes a long swing of his beer. “Hey,” he says. “I’ll try my best.” 

“Well, thank you for that,” Cobra replies. “You’re going to make a really good guild leader one day, you know?” 

Laxus shakes his head. “I don’t think Gramps is ever gonna kick the bucket, at this point,” he says. “And it’s still up to chance… Erza’s there, and Mirajane kind of runs the whole guild…” 

“You look after your people,” Cobra interrupts softly. “Even if—even if they’ve only been here for a while, and you don’t really need to. You’re already a guild master—it’s just not official yet.” 

Laxus stares at him for a while, too stunned to respond. “Like what?” he finds himself asking. “Leader of the Dragon Slayers?” 

“Dragon Slayer Guardian?” Cobra suggests. “Dragon Slayer Dad?” 

“Ew.” Laxus wrinkles his nose. “I’m still young, dude.” 

“Dragon Slayer Laxus,” Cobra decides, raising his mug for a second toast. “No title needed.” 

Laxus bumps his mug against Cobra’s and takes another drink. “I like the sound of that.” 

When Wendy thinks about spending most of her childhood around a bunch of people who were at least a little bit older than her, and then a bunch of people who weren’t real, at all, she wakes up crying. Then she remembers that even before that, Grandeeney was gone, too, and then she can’t stop crying, and Carla finds her with puffy eyes and a drippy nose. 

There’s a lot she’d like to change about herself, particularly the way she’s always felt weaker than those around her, but in the moments right when she wakes up after reliving memories of her days in Cait Shelter, what she wishes she could have changed most is to have more memories of her time with them. She’s tried to sketch out their faces, but her drawing skills are really limited to stick figures when it comes to humans, and she’s not good enough at describing to have someone else draw it for her. Some days, she wonders if a time will come when even if she could describe them or could have the right drawing skills, she wouldn’t remember enough to produce anything of worth. 

What she does have, though, is one official headshot of her Guild Master, taken for the official forms sent to the magic council. Carla had gotten a copy made, and then Wendy had gone out into town and bought a scrapbook, pasting it into the first page along with a cat sticker she’d picked up at the same store. Wendy loved the Fairy Tail members, but sometimes it felt too much like they were always trying to protect her, and this was something she needed to do for herself, so she had to do it alone. Carla was still with her, though, because she was just as much Cait Shelter as Wendy was.  

The next week, she’d asked Lucy for any tips on buying a camera, and Lucy had summoned one of her spirits until Wendy had enough information to fill a book. So she’d gone out just with Carla and bought a camera, and then she had Carla stand outside the store and took a picture of her, just like that, arms crossed and staring up at the camera with a pensive look, face cast in half shadow because Wendy was still learning how to use a camera, expression clear as day because Wendy had already learned what everything about Carla looked like. 

Carla had picked out a pink star sticker to paste on the edge of that one, because a cat one was too cliche, and on nights Wendy got lonely but didn’t want to wake up Carla she’d thumb through the pages of the book and remember that Carla had pressed that sticker onto that page and that Wendy had been standing there when that photo of Carla had been taken. 

When she looked at the picture of her old guild master it hurt more than it helped, sometimes, but it did help, and then she thought about how she could have taken a picture of Mystogan before they left him in Edolas, and that only strengthened her resolve to take photos. 

She’d never forget, of course, and sometimes when Jellal visited the guild in secret Wendy would catch glimpses of his face and remember with sharper clarity what Mystogan looked like, because he looked like Jellal in all the obvious ways but walked and spoke far differently. She doesn’t think she’d ever forget him, but the photos are something of a reassurance. 

There’s far more pictures than the first two that she’d started out with, now—quite a few scenes of Fairy Tail in its regular chaos, one of Lucy in her apartment, Erza practicing her sword swings, a particularly good shot of Natsu caught in the middle of roaring out fire during a spar. More recently, though, are shots of Gajeel, Rogue and Laxus in an arcade photo booth, her, Sting, and Natsu outside Sabertooth, and then again on top of a mountain, the vast sky as the backdrop. Then there’s Cobra silhouetted by the night sky, an easy smile settled on his face, Sting and Rogue taking a stiff-looking selfie by a mound of paperwork, Laxus pretending to be casual while the rest of the Raijinshuu pose for a photo with him. Wendy with Carla in a small clearing, photo a little out of focus because she’d done it with a self-timer, but it was easy enough to look at it and see the mirage of where Cait Shelter had been, once. 

What’s missing, surprisingly, is one of the seven of them—Wendy has plenty of mid-action shots of sparring when everyone else has paired up, and a couple including her from whoever’s been kind enough to snap photos while they’re taking a break, but none with all of them together. She’s got to rectify that, and since it’s the first week of the month again, they’re all going to gather together again, which will be perfect. 

When Wendy arrives at the guild’s training grounds, though, the field is surprisingly sparse, with not a Dragon Slayer in sight but Laxus. He spots her before she can say anything to him and waves her over. “Getting some shots of Fairy Tail in action?” he asks, motioning to her camera. 

“Oh, I—I was looking for the Dragon Slayers,” she responds. “I realized—we didn’t have a picture all together. And I wanted one.” 

“Did Natsu not tell you?” Laxus asks. 

Wendy frowns. “Tell me what?” 

“The dragon slayer meetings, they’re canceled,” Laxus says. “Forever, hopefully. The Magic Council’s been really… it’s a whole political mess you shouldn’t have to worry about. But you have the day off now. I kind of ended up coming to the training grounds out of habit, though.” 

She tries not to let her disappointment show, but it’s pretty obvious. “I can round up Natsu and Gajeel,” Laxus grunts. “And we can send a message to Sting and Rogue—they’ll travel up here if you ask, I’m sure—” 

Wendy shakes her head. “I don’t want to be a bother. And besides—” 

“If you’re wondering how you’ll find me, I’m already here,” a voice behind her says. 

She turns around. “Cobra!” 

He waves. “Nice to see you, Wendy. I was talking to Kinana just now, and I meant to ask… do you think you could take a picture of me and her?” Cobra asks. “You don’t have to, but—” 

“I’d love to,” Wendy cuts in. “I—I’m happy you asked me.” 

“Well, that’s my cue,” Laxus says. “I’m going to go grab Natsu and Gajeel—bet they’re both still sleeping now, or something.” He waves goodbye before she can protest.

“I just… I don’t want to pretend like I didn’t hurt people you care about,” Cobra says, after Laxus has walked off. “We don’t have to be close, and I get it if you don't want me here.” 

“I know,” Wendy says. “But I know Kinana would be happy if she had a picture with the two of you. And you’re nice to me.” 

“Hard not to be nice to someone like you,” Cobra says. “Do unto others and all that.” And maybe that’s true, but Cobra’s nice to her in a way that never feels like he’s talking down to her, or treating her as less because she’s younger than him. And maybe that’s because he feels guilty and that makes him treat her a bit more seriously than the other Dragon Slayers, but Wendy appreciates it for what it is. 

“Why’d you decide to come, then?” Wendy asks. “Since you don’t have to, anymore.” 

“Well, I thought about it a lot,” Cobra says, “and I’m sure I’d run into you all by our own wills, but it’s kind of nice to see all seven dragons in one place, right? And meetings are even better when they’re not government-mandated.” 

Wendy smiles. “I think the same, too.” She holds up her camera. “I actually wanted to get a photo with all seven of us,” she says. “Maybe we can do that, and then grab a picture of you and Kinana afterwards?” 

“Sounds good,” Cobra says, and then Sting and Rogue come scrambling into the training grounds. 

“Wendy!” Sting cries. “Sorry—we got delayed, so then we tried to take the train, and then we got delayed because taking the train is a bad idea, and then—” He pauses to catch his breath. 

“And then we rushed over here as fast as we could,” Rogue finishes for him. “I’d kind of forgotten our meetings were canceled, too.” 

“You guys,” Wendy says, blinking back tears. “I’m glad you—glad you thought they were important.” 

“We still think they’re important,” Laxus says, Natsu and Gajeel at his heels, both wearing sheepish expressions. “Important enough that the Magic Council has no right to stick their nose into it.” 

“How do you want to do the photo, Wendy?” Natsu asks. 

“It’s kind of silly, but I wanted one with all of us just… looking down at the camera?” Wendy answers, fiddling with it. “It’s easy to do a self-timer for, and I thought it’d be nice to have one without a really recognizable background…” 

“I don’t really understand why you’d want that,” Gajeel says, “but that sounds easy enough, and you’re the smart one with the camera.” 

Wendy wants one without a recognizable background so that every Dragon Slayer looks like they’re home inside the picture. Because as much as she loves Fairy Tail, it’s not Sting or Rogue or Cobra’s home, and it’s not even all that her and Natsu and Laxus and Gajeel are. They’re more than that, and Wendy wants a picture where they’re all just themselves, but together. 

She chooses not to explain any of that, though, so they all crowd around the camera with eager, expectant faces, Wendy adjusting their positions and the camera until she’s sure they’ll all fit. Then she sets up the self-timer, takes a deep breath, and steps back into their circle. 

“Say cheese!” Wendy says at the last moment, and though the camera doesn’t even capture their mouths, Wendy will remember their smiles. 

After Wendy finally gets that morning’s photo printed, she holds it up to the orange-gold sunset light. She’s filled her scrapbook with so many people she loves, all friends and family, and this, held in her hands, is a part of it, too, brilliant and more than perfect. 

Seven Dragon Slayers, and the blue, blue sky, all in one photo. There’s more than enough room for all of them.