The Domino Effect
Rating: T
Summary: Battles waged against Crime Sorciere are child's play compared to the everyday internal wars fought just within the independent guild. And unfortunately while trying to soothe group tensions, Jellal finds himself caught in a hairy situation.
Notes: Happy Crime Sorciere Brotp day from both me and ahumanintraining/thir13enth. We worked late last night on our first collaboration, and I'm surprised that we ever even got around to finishing it since we were having waaaay too much fun goofing off! Please message thir13enth once you have read this to tell her how much you enjoyed it, since the reviews are only sent to me and not her.
Swapping spit and exchanging fists wasn't uncommon in the renegade guild—especially between the two largest egos of the group: Sorano and Erik. And although Macbeth, Sawyer, and Richard had grown used to their steady jabber after years of being together in Oracion Seis, for Jellal and Meredy, the constant bickering took a little getting used to.
"I think my mental psyche should come with a warning sign," Erik concluded, dark eyes brimming with an emotion alarmingly similar to hatred. His teeth were bared in a snarl and his fists were clenched at his sides. In sum, he was, once again, pissed off.
Sorano stood opposite of him, every bit the diva she was. Her hands were on her hips, mouth curled in that one arrogant smile that always seemed to off the poison dragon slayer.
Although granted, everything Sorano did enraged him.
They'd been shooting insults back and forth for nearly an hour now, and Meredy had to admit that their stamina certainly was impressive. Fairy Tail brawls were one thing; more of a fist exchange than anything else. Crime Sorciere battles—rather, Erik-and-Sorano fights—on the other hand, required a bit more wit and finesse.
"Ooh, you poor baby," Sorano cooed, her voice dripping with sarcasm, eyes rolling back theatrically. "Is something wrong?"
"Yeah," he snarled back at the celestial mage. "My head is filled with all the awful thoughts of all the idiots around me-especially your stupid ones about flying to the heavens and being an angel or what not."
"Oh excuse me," she retorted, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "At least I have a future that goes beyond dating a snake."
Erik whipped his head around, eyes narrowed. "Hey, are you sure you're an angel? Because with your manner and looks, I'd send you straight to hell."
Upon seeing the older woman's hair suddenly stand on end, Meredy—who had taken refuge behind Richard, deeming his larger body to be her protection from the storming soap opera brewing before them—cautiously elbowed Jellal in the ribs.
"Um," Meredy whispered, meeting Jellal's panicked gaze. "What exactly do we do?"
Jellal's gaze slid back to the sight in front of them, seemingly at a loss, very unlike the usually level-headed man. "I-I'm not so sure," he stammered. "I'm afraid of getting killed if I try and interfere."
Sawyer, on the opposite side of Jellal, snickered and slapped the blue-haired man on the back. "Calm down, Boss," Sawyer advised. "They do this on a daily basis. I'd thought you two would have gotten used to it by now."
"It's love," Richard beamed, his hands clasped together, admiring the situation. "They are very in love with hating each other."
"In some twisted sense of the word, I guess you're right," Jellal replied, albeit apprehensive. He sighed, continuing to observe the drama unfold, biting his lip. He certainly was getting used to this daily situation, but the problem was in fixing it. Everyone in the guild had learned the hard way—getting in between Sorano and Erik while they were duking it out was a bad idea.
"I'll say," Meredy whispered, peeking out from behind her safety net. "They're...intense."
"Honestly, they fight like a married couple," Sawyer remarked, a slight smirk on his face.
And unfortunately for Sawyer, this couple had excellent hearing.
"Married?! Who the fuck said that?" Erik and Sorano yelled in unison, their heads whirling to stare menacingly at the onlookers. Before Jellal had a chance to jump in, Sorano fixed her glare on Sawyer, who looked every bit the guilty culprit that he was.
"I knew it," she hissed, striding forward and grabbing Sawyer by the collar, much to Jellal's discomfort. "Always trying to put your two cents in, huh, Sawyer?"
"Actually—"
"Shut it, Sawyer," Erik snarled from behind Sorano. "No one wants to hear what you have to say."
"Well I do," Richard whispered quietly, and Jellal turned a pleading gaze towards the larger man.
"Richard—"
"You too?" Erik yelled, turning to Richard and cutting Jellal off in the meantime. "Who asked for your opinion?"
"I got this Boss. I'll make it quick," Sawyer quickly said to Jellal, while Sorano was distracted by Erik. "I've broken up their fights millions of times before. This should be over in a flash."
And true to Sawyer's words, it was over in a flash.
Sawyer's resolve that was.
Sensing the speed mage's thoughts, Erik snarled at Sawyer. "Don't kid around, Racer," he taunted spitefully. "You flee at the first sign of a fight. Wimp."
"Oi," Sawyer began dangerously, stance broadening as he approached his comrade. "At least I can stand my ground because I actually have legs. I ain't a snake slithering on my stomach eating poison and shit."
"Hah!" Sorano cackled, letting go of Sawyer's collar and slapping him on the back, giving him an appreciative look. "Good one—"
"And you!" Sawyer interrupted, stepping backwards from the silver-haired woman. "There's no way in hell you even have a chance at heaven. You're the devil's incarnate!"
"Now, now," Richard lectured, striding forward to the three of them, causing Meredy to squeak in fear as her shield left her unguarded. "It's not nice to taunt our nakama like that. We should all learn to—"
"I swear to god," Erik interrupted with venom-soaked words. "If you bring up love one more time, I'm going to take that fucking love and shove it down your—"
"Such vile words befitting such a vile man," a tenor voice mused, and Jellal glanced backwards, meeting the narrowed gaze of one very irritated Macbeth, who had stirred awake from his slumber. "I can't believe the four of you woke me from my beauty sleep."
Sorano scoffed. "Oh please," she retorted, examining her nails. "Beauty sleep implies you must be beautiful and you—" giving Macbeth a once-over "—are anything but."
Macbeth's eyes turned to slits, and Jellal, quite literally, felt his stomach drop, as the sleep-deprived mage slowly rose to his feet, a dark aura emanating off his body in waves.
At this point, Jellal knew it was over. Shit had officially hit the fan.
"Jellal!" Meredy hissed, sidling over to him as their guild fell into shambles before their eyes. "You have to do something!"
"What, and get myself killed?"
"Jellal!" Meredy said, gesturing to the rest of the guild, in the midst of hurling insult after insult at each other without pause. "They're going to tear each other apart! Stop it before it goes from verbal to physical! That's Fairy Tail's job!"
He sighed, eyeing the others doubtfully. "I didn't sign up for this," he muttered, before taking a cautious step into the lions' den.
"Everyone," he began hesitantly, raising his hand. "Can we please, just calm down and—"
"Don't tell me to calm down!" screamed an outraged Erik.
"What are you, our leader or something?" Macbeth hissed.
"Actually—"
"Well at least he's doing a much better job at leading us than you did, Macbeth," Sorano shot back. "What was it, the "Reborn Oracion Seis" or something? Pfft, lame! That was such a stupid vision anyway—in fact, your illusion."
"Well at least I'm not the one lying about having a fiance!" Macbeth retorted.
Meredy gasped, her eyes darting to Jellal's face, seeing it morph from anxious to absolutely nothing. Then, right before her eyes, she watched as his eyes narrowed and his lips purse, his skin flushing to the exact same shade of her hair.
"Oh no," she moaned quietly, seeing his shoulders shake.
"It was one time!" Jellal yelled, waving his arms erratically at his guildmates, earning a chuckle from Sawyer and a eyeroll from Sorano. "Are you all ever going to drop it?
"Never," Erik said, laughing heartily. "You brought this upon yourself, Jellal."
The dragonslayer could sense the blue-haired mage's thoughts as easily as his own, and the poor man's thoughts were going haywire. Part of him wanted to yell at Erik, another part wanted to yell at the entire guild (excluding Meredy, of course), yet another wanted to think only about Erza, and the last part of him wanted to just end the situation with as much dignity as he could.
The latter two bored Erik, whose ears perked up when discovering an interesting thought wandering around the older man's mind. The corner of his lip lifted in a malicious smirk.
"So tell me, Jellal," Erik teased, in a suspiciously cheerful voice. "Why did you say you have a fiance? Were you too shy? Was she too scary for you?"
"He was probably just shaking in his boots," Sawyer interjected.
Sorano grinned. "Aw, how cute," she said. "Was our wittle Jellal all nervous and shy? Scared of the red-haired lady?"
"Hey, it's not like that," Meredy defended, but Erik cut her off.
"Or maybe it was because you didn't have the balls to tell her you—"
"Shut up!" Jellal seethed, glaring at Erik. "Just shut up for once, will you?"
"Wow," Erik said, impressed. "I didn't think you had it in you, Jellal. Maybe you really can run with the big kids after all."
"Piss off, I'm older than you," Jellal muttered, making Erik raise a brow.
"I don't know, Jellal," Macbeth pointed out. "Can you even handle us? Can you even properly throw shade?"
Jellal's glare slid over to Macbeth. "Of...of course, I can," he claimed, rather halfheartedly.
"Oh yeah? Try us for size then," Erik taunted him. "Let's see what you got."
There was a moment of hesitation before the man in question opened his mouth.
"Okay well...Erik, you suck!" Jellal yelled, pointing first at the poison mage.
Erik didn't quite understand the impact of the supposed insult. "Huh?"
"B-Because you have pointed teeth!" Jellal explained. "So...so you're like a vampire! And so you suck!"
The dragon slayer's jaw might have dropped in disbelief if he hadn't facepalmed first.
Their great guild leader—once one of the Ten Wizard Saints and who had mastered all five basic elements—had just attempted to insult him...by telling him he sucked...because he was a vampire...because he had pointed teeth...
There was no hope for the heavenly body mage. The man clearly could not pull together a comeback.
Jellal visibly thought hard for a long moment, before redirecting to the celestial mage.
"Well, S-Sorano...Sorano—you look like an elderly woman!" Jellal blurted, flustered. "Because of your...white hair...and stuff."
Sorano blinked before giving him a withering look. "Oh, for the love of Mavis," she groaned, glaring at him while he looked away sheepishly. "Really? Is that the best you can do? An elderly woman? Please, Jellal, try and do better than that."
Richard, behind her, solemnly showed his argument.
"Also what the hell is up with your hair obsession?" Sorano quipped.
"Maybe it's a fetish," Erik suggested.
"Agreed," Sawyer quipped, and Macbeth concurred with a nod of his head.
"It's love," Richard chimed in.
"Yep. He's turned on by hair," Sorano concluded.
Their guild leader's eyes shuffled back and forth between the members. "T-That's not true—"
"Jellal," Erik said helpfully, resting a hand on his shoulder. "There's a time and place for everything. There's a time for us to insult you, and there's a time for you to just go with it. And there's also a time where you should really keep that mouth of yours shut. You dug your grave, and it's deep enough as it is. There's no need to make it any bigger."
"But—"
"Take it from me. You need to know when to quit, Jellal," Erik advised. "And I think now would be the perfect time."
Jellal turned a beseeching gaze to Meredy, the one that has always had his back, no matter the situation, for her help. She'd support him, right?
But she only offered Jellal a sad smile.
So after a long morning of ceaseless quarreling, there really only one thing Crime Sorciere could all agree on:
Jellal Fernandes had a hair fetish.
Well, he thought with a wry smile, watching his teammates point and laugh at him. At least they weren't fighting.