#para: fang

[declinlalune]

Slayer Danger || Andy & Fang

TIMING: current-ish. LOCATION: downtown. PARTIES: @ronin-for-hire & @declinlalune SUMMARY: andy comes across fang on a hunt. CONTENT WARNINGS: parental death.

Andy wasn’t exactly the type to go out after dark. She knew what went bump in the night, and in a town like Wicked’s Rest, there was too much of it to ignore, even for somebody who didn’t hunt. Or more like, refused to. But her sight in the dark wasn’t as bad as a regular human’s, and so she was appreciative of that fact, even if she swore off pretty much everything else about her increased… well, abilities. She hadn’t anticipated running into anything wrong tonight. It was supposed to be simple. Pick up take out for dinner, go home. Until she heard a song of desperate pleas and then another voice. 

She had promised herself she wouldn’t get involved. Not so much out of any kind of cowardice, but more or less to keep herself out of harm’s way. She couldn’t afford a mauling like Kaden had experienced, but it was hard to ignore the person’s voice getting louder. They shouted something and another person responded in kind. Andy decided she’d veer in that direction– take a look. Only, when she turned the corner and looked down the alley, she was surprised to see the glint of what had to be silver, and a fear stricken expression of the victim. She’d just run into a hunter and their target. Shit. “What’s going on?” She spoke before she knew what she was going to say, but anything for a distraction, she decided. She held her bag of sandwiches close to her chest as she peered down the alley, eyes adjusting to the darkness just fine. 

Another night, another job. That was all there to it for Fang. As long as she was stuck in this gods-forsaken town, the slayer wasn’t going to get involved with local hunter politics and shit. All she wanted to do was save enough money to get herself back home. Of course, that was a little difficult, considering she still had rent to pay, especially after the guy who was supposed to get her back home once her mentor’s killer was dealt with suddenly up and vanished. Fang didn’t even get to avenge her mentor, as another local hunter already took care of the damned undead before she could arrive. At least she found their accomplice tonight. That should be a good thing, right? “Plead all you want, I’m sending you back to where you truly belong, monster.”

Fang’s on-the-job voice was as gruff and as deep as she could make it. Coupled with her oni facemask and the silver in her katana, the whole ensemble tended to strike fear even in her most stubborn quarries. There were a few exceptions, though: Like the younger ones that always had a quip about Japanese Batman or anime Batman or something else she didn’t even understand. Even in their deaths, they’d try to meme. This time, this one wasn’t getting that opportunity. “N-no! Please! I didn't know what they were gonna do with the old man! I swear! I was just there to feed! I was just hungry! I didn’t know who he was! If I did, I w-wouldn’t have done anything! I just don’t want to die, man!”

That’s what they always say. Fang has heard it all. If they weren’t doing it for fun, they were just doing it to survive. As nature intended? Fair enough. But the other side of this messed-up coin has to survive, too, and that must mean Fang was the weapon nature intended to ensure that these undead’s prey had a chance of surviving. Or some shit like that. Fang didn’t really care. All she cared about was her own survival. “Nothing that involves you,” Fang growled at the passerby without even turning to her, instead standing menacingly tall over the groveling vampire on their back. “My friend and I are just having…a disagreement. Go home, miss.”

I was just there to feed! I was just hungry! 

Andy had to assume this was a vampire. It could have been any other undead, but she didn’t know enough about them or their vocabulary to understand the differences. There were a handful of slayers at the hunter camps she’d been to, but more often than not, their targets were different enough that they didn’t train much together unless it was in hand-to-hand combat. Andy had learned a few things here and there, as information was useful when traded, but they weren’t her family’s main priority. 

She didn’t care about what she had learned. She had discarded it all back in Tennessee, even before she and Alex were forced to run for their lives. Andy had shed that part of herself as soon as she understood the lack of care her parents had for her sister due to her inability to keep up. Andy saw a person crouched in fear, not a monster. Even if what they said wasn’t inherently true, was it right to cut them down like this? Shouldn’t they at least be able to speak their piece? It was difficult, she realized. Because vampires were mostly aware of what they were doing. Wolves were often out of their minds when becoming destructive, unless they were pushing for violence to begin with. 

This wasn’t her fight, but she couldn’t just turn her back either. 

“A disagreement? It sounds like a lot more than just a disagreement.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, craning her neck to get a good look at the vampire who was on his knees. “Are you okay?” Of course they weren’t, but maybe if she pissed off the slayer long enough to ask a series of questions, it’d offer the vampire an opportunity to leave. Still, she wasn’t sure how to feel about it given the fact that Andy wasn’t sure if he had actually killed anyone while feeding. 

Fang growled at the woman, turning to her in annoyance when she continued talking instead of getting out of her hair. At the sight of her, however, she had to take a quick second or two. Fang had seen a lot of pretty girls in this town, but a redhead with freckles? Now she’s seen everything. Everything gorgeous that is! She felt her heat skip a beat or two, but managed to rein herself in, growling again to resume her more hardened persona. Hard to lose that in the presence of her quarry, especially with her oni facemask on and her katana strapped to her back.

“Keep your distance,” the slayer muttered, holding out a hand as a way to keep her back, to discourage her from approaching any closer. As far as Fang knew about this town’s bloodsuckers, their so-called vampires, they’re easily tempted by the smell of warm blood. She took another quick look at the woman, just in case, eyeing her from head to toe, her eyes wandering all over her body. In search of open wounds and stuff. Yeah, that’s it. Least she wanted was to give the vampire another fresh body to ‘vamp’ over. “This…is no ordinary man.”

“P-please! I’m not like the others! I only feed on the bad ones!” The vampire turned to face Andy, her eyes pleading for mercy, though the lower half of its face was drenched in blood, crimson dripping off of its chin. Fang had found it feeding on an unconscious man in an alley, a perfect place for predator to consume its prey under the protection of shadows and the musky smell of urine. Sometimes, Fang hated having better senses than her peers. At least she thought it was better. 

Clenching her jaw, Fang wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her sword ever so tightly. Slowly, she began to remove it from its scabbard, the vampire whimpering at its impending doom. Eyes narrowed on her quarry, the slayer bid the other woman one final warning, hopeful that she would take it and go. She was too pretty to see what comes next. It wasn’t the most progressive of thoughts but that’s what you get when you get raised by her late mentor. “Go… You should go.”

The slayer was warning her against the vampire that she had cornered and Andy felt something in her twist. It was easy to act blindly when somebody thought they were doing the right thing. Andy only knew about vampires from the slayers that had attended the same camps as her, and even then, she’d felt sorry for them. They had been human once, and later made into something out of their control. Why should they be punished for it? Like all other undead, they were unjustly murdered. But did it make it okay for those same entities to do the same to others? Andy struggled with the answer, though she didn’t ask it aloud. 

The vampire’s mouth was covered in blood– Andy could see it under the pitiful night sky, clouds above them, their weight in condensation threatening to pour down at any moment. Andy wanted to help the vampire, but how could she do so if she didn’t know the details? The slayer drew their sword out and she heard the sound of flesh ripping against itself as the blade was removed. The slayer told her to leave again and Andy thought to do so, but the look in the vampire’s eye– she couldn’t just leave it, even if it had hurt someone. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Andy murmured, voice barely cutting through the darkness. “It doesn’t need to be like this. You can…” Can, what? Andy wasn’t sure how to get through to the slayer. She knew that she was an oddity, all things considered. She had rejected hunting the moment she understood what it was, and being in a situation where she could think for herself due to the traumas experienced, she had turned a blind eye to revenge, to continue the cycle. But Andy knew that if it weren’t this vampire, it would just be another. But Andy could maybe help this one. “Just this once. Forget about it, let her go.” 

Fang considered the attractive woman’s words. Forget about it, about all this? Let it go? Let the asshole who helped kill her mentor go? Just like that? Yeah, right… The slayer had traveled through oceans, through cities, to avenge the old man, left the only life she’d ever known behind, and risked everything she had and she was in this new world. She had to make numerous sacrifices, including parts of herself and a future away from this life. So many nights soaked in tears and blood and pain.

But it was all worth it, for the old man wasn’t just her mentor. He was like a second father to Fang. He didn’t need to adopt her all those years ago, to teach her the ways of the hunter, to gift her all that she needed to come to terms with her parents’ deaths at these monsters’ hands or claws or tentacles. He could have just left her to rot in an orphanage in a foreign land, forever a victim, a survivor, of forces she would never understand, for reasons she would never comprehend. He deserved better than to get killed by some gaijin vamp and left to die on the cold, empty streets of midnight Ginza. 

“Just this once…” Fang muttered as she slowly returned the sword to its scabbard, her hand steady, though her heartbeat was erratic. At this, the blood-soaked vampire heaved a sigh of relief. Live to see another day, yeah? Or another night? Well, not live live, per se. More like unlive, but that’s not an actual word is it? But just this once, right? And just like that… The slayer suddenly, and swiftly, slashed the creature’s neck, decapitating it in one fluid motion, its darkened, rotten blood spraying all over the street, as the blade was then swung against the air in the opposite direction, removing as much of the vampire’s blood on it through sheer momentum, before it was return to its sheath. 

Just this once… Fang gave mercy to a loathed enemy in the form of a quick, painless death. She closed her eyes, took a deep breathe, and turned to the woman one final time. “Forget about it,” she muttered before she started to walk away, in the opposite direction from her. “It’s gone.” And so, too, should she.

For a brief moment, Andy saw her father in place of the slayer. Instead of a katana, it was a knife, and instead of a vampire, it was a harmless beast she had been ordered to kill but hadn’t been able to follow through on. The slayer’s hesitance, for only a second, had been sidled with a sort of hopefulness, but it shattered the moment that the woman raised the sword, cutting clear across the vampire’s throat. The noise it made was sickening, and bile rose up her throat. 

She half-expected to see her father then, too, with an unwavering gaze from unseeing eyes. But the body turned to ash almost instantly and Andy was left behind with it, only a few feet away as the slayer sheathed her weapon and retreated. The sound of her footsteps akin to that of a war horse. She was close enough to grab. 

Andy whirled around, staring at the woman’s back. “Why? Why can’t you people just—“ forgive. Not everyone was like her. Not everyone had been forced into adulthood at an early age; though she could guess that this woman had been, only in a way that was fundamentally different than her own. She grit her teeth and looked behind her towards the pile of ash. “She begged you, and you still killed her anyway.” It was a series of complicated feelings that began to filter through her, and she wasn’t sure how to identify them or how to separate them. She couldn’t understand, but at the same time, that was why a part of her wanted to believe that the slayer had been in the right. This was not her battle, but it still didn’t sit right with her. 

Fang should have just left already. She could have, but the moment was too raw, too soon, and she was still lingering on thoughts of unresolved vengeance for her late mentor’s death. You people? The slayer barely considered herself a person anymore. If she ever was, the person she had been died with her parents all those years ago. What her late mentor saved, what the old man trained, it wasn’t her anymore, it wasn’t a person anymore, it was just a shell of her former self, a remnant of what she could have been, a weapon meant only to kill. 

But did Fang want to turn out like this? To lose her humanity, her childhood, her entire life, so she could go around saving ungrateful strangers from the monsters they didn’t even know existed? Hell, no. Putting down abominations might be cool to some, on paper, but she’d trade this life for a chance to stay as boring as possible with her mom and dad. She’d endure getting chased with a slipper or a clothes hanger, and even suffering the Asian parents stereotype of being “forced” to play the piano or violin and getting good grades and being a doctor or engineer, than being out here every god-forsaken night, hunting down disgusting nightmare fuel so she can pay her shitty rent. She’d rather be Eddie Huang than Asian Batgirl.

“It was mercy,” Fang growled without looking back at the woman. She wanted to make it suffer, the same way she had when it helped kill her mentor, the same way the old man did when his life was cut short in a dirty, empty street like he was nothing more than a rabid animal, like he was one of them. If Fang herself was one of them, would become one of them, she believed a quick death would be better than continuing on as a mindless monster that would kill to survive. Ironic, considering she was technically one, but she was oblivious to that fact. “It won’t harm anyone else. It won’t kill anyone else.” 

If Fang believed in life ever after, the promised paradise, she would say it was now in a better place. But she didn’t.

It was mercy. 

Andy wasn’t sure how much of that was true. She didn’t know a whole lot about the undead, only about what it took to kill them. She didn’t like thinking about it, because unlike the beasts she’d been taught to hunt, more typically it was a human face staring back at her. She couldn’t understand how that would make it any easier for anyone. In fact, it made her feel ill. 

“How? Where?” Her voice shook slightly and she watched the woman from behind, taking in the frame of her body, committing it to memory so that if perhaps she saw somebody with the same stature later, she could tell her friends to watch out. It was hard to trust that a hunter of one specificity wouldn’t go after another individual just because of the rumored hurt they may cause. 

“They,” Andy quickly interjected, “won’t, because now they’re dead.” It was easy to put herself in the shoes of those who still hunted. Of those who believed their actions to be the rightful ones. Not because she agreed with them in the slightest, but because it was all she’d ever seen be put on display. It was the only thing she could remember about her parents, and she detested them for it. “They begged you not to, but you still did it, anyway.” She wondered if their last words would haunt the woman, or if she would sleep peacefully knowing she’d put down another supposed monster. Andy tensed slightly, hands curling into fists. “I could pretend to understand that you thought you were doing the right thing, but I’m not sure I can do even that.” Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to piss off a slayer, especially when she didn’t personally know them.

“But sure, it’s none of my business. People being murdered in the street. What if you had gotten it wrong?” She thought about the vampire and the way they had pleaded with the slayer, of how she had begged to be understood. “What if there was some truth to her words? What then?” 

Fang paused. For a moment, she thought about explaining herself, about how she knew the monster she just ended personally, about how she had been tracking it for months, every night she could since she left Japan for this god-awful town with these dangerously bleeding hearts. She thought about arguing that it was more efficient to slay the monsters to keep the innocent people safe, as her late mentor used to say, the same mentor the monster she just ended had a hand in putting down, but then again, she didn’t even believe that herself. At least not anymore. 

There were no longer innocent people, according to Fang. Everyone was capable of sin, however way you perceive sin, and therefore didn’t deserve protecting. Not like one should an innocent child. Everyone can protect themselves these days. Can die for all she cared, too. Not unless they had money to pay for her skills, for her training, for her sword. Same could be said for the strange woman crying over some monster who’ve killed more than she probably knew. What point would there be in arguing then? 

“Then don’t,” Fang growled again. “Forget it. Forget me. Forget any of this ever happened. My business in this town is done. What your monsters took from me… Months don’t get anything wrong. This town is cursed.” The slayer heaved a sigh of relief, as if a massive weight was lifted from her shoulders, before she continued walking away.

Andy’s frown deepened as the woman continued to walk away. It was clear there’d be no getting through to her. Maybe it was a little stupid, putting herself in the position she was, especially because most hunters didn’t take kind to those who no longer practiced the lifestyle. But this woman didn’t know her, and she could come across easily as a concerned citizen. She forced her gaze forward, not wanting to look back at the pile of ash that had become the woman begging for her life. 

As the slayer spoke, Andy found herself rigid. She knew the types of things that could take. All her life, things had been taken, but she still had Alex. What if this had been a ranger? And a wolf at the end of the narrow alleyway begging for their life? It wasn’t any different than the reality, because at the end of the day, these were people, not just what they’d been made into. Andy scoffed at the woman’s attempt to gain understanding from her. “Sure, I’ll forget it all. Don’t worry about it.” It wasn’t like she could call anyone on the slayer, but at least now she knew who to be wary of. Even if she hadn’t shown her face, Andy was sure she’d remember the voice. 

[rqranboo]

. . . Ranboo's hot tip of the night . . .

If you make spaghetti, the red sauce may help the desire to have blood. making the noodles al-dente also helps. the nice little bite to it was just enough to satisfy the desire to bite someone's neck.

[sonzies]

other junk

[spice-and-fire]

eat, flederprey, love ❀ fang & meera

TIMING: Months ago LOCATION: Bigfeet’s Adventureland PARTIES: Meera @the-haunteang and Fang @ronin-for-hire SUMMARY: Meera hires Fang to help her rescue a friend from "vampires." CONTENT WARNING: None

After she received a private message hiring her to deal with vampires in Bigfeet’s Adventureland, Fang immediately set out to finish the job as soon as possible, bringing with her her usual hunting gear that was mostly comprised of her oni facemask and her trusty katana. But she had never been to the place before, so she had to take her time, consulting the directions her landlady, Sara Fukuhara, had so charitably shared with her. 

When she arrived at the place, she immediately took to the shadows, lurking as she searched for any sign of a vampire or two. The damned monsters were often as elusive as they were dangerous, so when she noticed someone else in the area, she immediately tagged them as possible prey. Or possible bait. Fang grinned as she watched the woman walking around, hoping her quarry would soon reveal itself to her. Then she can cut its head clean off of its shoulders and get paid. Easy.

Meera didn’t want to be there. She didn’t want to be anywhere close to “vampires” or whatever went bumping in the night. She already had plenty on her plate at home, what with her ghostly ancestors randomly showing up to scream and whine at her. At least that’s what she thinks they’re doing. Most of the time, they were incoherent, hard to understand, and all they ever were were annoying distractions. Years ago, she’d be afraid of them. These days, though, they’ve become badly timed jumpscares.

“Tariq!” Meera whisper-yelled under her breath. She wanted to be heard, but only by the employee she was trying to find, not by the so-called “vampires” that were supposedly flying around. This was the last place Tariq was according to her sister, who also informed their employer of the fanged menaces in question. Khadija wanted to go look for him herself but the girl was too sickly to go anywhere, especially at night, so Meera had to play the responsible boss. 

“Where’s that handler person thing? It’s been like over an hour? Are they even going to come? Goodness, why did I even message them instead of the cops?! I must be losing my mind!”

Fang stalked the woman, lurking behind the shadows she used as veils to keep herself hidden. Either she was just a normal idiot or she was playing the part of a normal idiot to draw her in, making the slayer reveal herself before she transforms into a more formidable version of herself. Like those damned vampires. Smart, Fang thought. Classic bait and switch. Or classic bait and trap. Whatever worked. 

Slowly, silently, Fang crept up on the woman. She discreetly unsheathed her katana, about to slice the other woman’s head off, or at least checking if the nearby slight movement would alert its supernatural senses, when she heard it complain about…a bunch of normal idiot stuff. Fuck, Fang heaved a sigh as she sheathed her katana again. Neither of those actions revealed her to the woman, so the slayer instead poked her on the shoulder. “Hey,” she calmly stated. “You the one who hired me to handle the vampires?”

Meera screamed. Like her life depended on it. Like she was about to die. Like everything inside of her needed to come out through her mouth. Even as she stared at the newly arrived woman in the face with her eyes wide in horror, she still screamed, arms crossed over her chest, as if that would be any defense, as if that was enough protection. When she finally tired herself out, she began to pant. When she was finally tired of panting, she took a moment to catch her breath.

Hands on her knees, she raised a finger, gesturing for the other woman to wait as she tried her best to regain her composure quickly. If the other woman wanted her dead, she would’ve done so in the first few times she started screaming. Maybe that would have spared her from looking like a fool right then and there. Certainly would’ve spared her from the makeshift asthma attack. “O-okay… Y-you’re the vampire hunter?” Meera looked over the woman from head to toe. She didn’t look like a vampire hunter. “Are you sure?” What would an actual vampire hunter even look like?

“You okay?” Fang raised an eyebrow. She had to ask. If she died right then and there, out of shock, then she might not get paid. There wasn’t anything more than that from the slayer. This was all about her rent money, not some strange woman’s stranger health. Screaming like that in a place like this? She should be thankful Fang wasn’t an actual monster. Otherwise, she might’ve screamed her last. “Yeah, I’m the…slayer.”

When she asked if she was sure, Fang took a step back, taking offense to that statement. It reminded her of the early days of her training in Japan, when the other students of her late mentor questioned her as well. The old man had brought her in after none of her surviving relatives wanted to take her back. She wasn’t experienced in killing monsters, sure, barely even athletic, but getting an “are you sure” from the other students made her worried about her own survival. If the master would throw her back, out into the streets, she would die. She needed to be sure. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Fang squinted at the woman, annoyed at her very animated actions. Heaving a sigh, she shook her head and stowed her katana, keeping her voice low and deep, just in case this woman could not keep a secret, which she seemed like it, to be fair. With all that screaming and doubting. “Are you sure there are vampires here? And you have the money to pay me?” That last bit was just petty revenge.

“I’m fine,” Meera finally managed to calm herself down fully. She was still a little suspicious about the other woman, though. Well, maybe somewhat suspicious of things about her. After all, she was supposedly a monster hunter or whatever but she wasn’t asking for much and she was advertising it online like one of those scammers on that list website. What was it called? Ah, phooey! “Slayer? That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think?”

Meera was quick to realize she had done or said something to offend the girl with the sword but wasn’t quite sure what. Maybe it was just her? Maybe she was just that off-putting after having spent so many years not socializing, afraid to accidentally scare new friendships when a ghost related to her inevitably popped up. But then the woman questioned her finances, and to someone who wasn’t sure she was doing her dead relatives proud business-wise, it was an insult of the highest order. “Y-yes, I’m sure! I have the money, how dare you?! Why would I hire you if I didn’t? Let’s just find my friend, okay? He might be in trouble right now.” 

Fang simply rolled her eyes. She did not have time for the woman’s side comments. She did not even come up with that name. In Japan, they were called something else. She had been calling herself that something else before she found out what the local hunters were calling themselves, and since she was stuck here for the time being, she felt it more appropriate to adopt the local terminology than stick with the name from Japan. Either way, it wasn’t even the point of all this. “What does your friend look like? Do you have a photo on you?”

Fang tried her best to focus on the business part of this interaction. She didn’t want to get stuck out there with the frantic woman any longer. As long as the client had the money, she’d bear with them until the transaction was over. Fang’s clientele wasn’t really as great as far as clienteles go. Most of them were annoying, privileged, or even just plain lazy. But they good money, and Fang needed that good money. “You can pay half now and then half later,” she stated without a tone but extended her hand for the dough. All business.

At the questions, Meera immediately scrambled to retrieve her phone from her purse. Once she had gotten it out, she showed it to the other girl while still browsing for a photo of Tariq, accidentally showing her random and blurry selfies that she had taken, mostly with the ghosts of her dead relatives but unless she had the sight, the slayer-for-hire might not be able to see them and would just think these photos were terribly shot selfies. “He’s…a bit on the short side, but he’s really nice and kind and does everything at the shop.”

“Oh, well, okay,” Meera gave the other woman her phone as she once again scrambled to retrieve something else from her purse, this time half of the promised payment. It was a regular deal, come to think of it. Half now so if it was a useless errand, at least the hired hand wouldn’t feel as ripped-off. Maybe she’ll tuck that idea somewhere in her mind’s purse. “Should I come along? I feel like I should come along in case you forget his face. I’m Meera, by the way.”

Fang took her time staring at the photo supplied to her by her employer. She tried her best to memorize the guy’s face, but to be honest, who else would be dumb enough to be there? Let her rephrase that thought: Who else, that wasn’t the three of them, would be dumb enough to be there? At least Fang could defend herself against the vampires. This…Meera? Fang had major doubts she could even defend herself from a four-year-old kid. “All right, then,” she heaved a deep sigh, turning her attention to the area at large. “I’ll take it from here.”

When Meera suggested she come along, Fang almost burst out laughing. No offense to the woman but she did just get scared easily, and she does strike Fang as someone who was rather better off watching things unfold on the side than risk herself for something she had no idea what to do. Not a lot of people knew what to do in situations like this. All the vampire fiction they consume from the mainstream media? Not as useful as actual experience in fighting actual vampires. “Oh…no, you should just get back to your car and wait for me to bring him back. Or drive back home and wait for me there. Where exactly do you stay? Scratch that: Where would you like me to bring your friend once I rescue him? You do have a car, right?”

“Oh, uhm, okay?” Meera wasn’t quite sure how to take that response from the so-called slayer. The first part, she was okay with. Of course she was going to take it from there. After all, that was her job, and Meera trusted her as a professional to be able to do her job better than the medium could only imagine. Her almost laughing at her, though? That was a little unnecessary. Also her doubting that she had a car. Of course, she had a car. How would she had gotten there if she didn’t have a car? “I do… I guess, you could bring him to my car? It’s the only one at the curb right now.”

Meera turned toward the curb, where her car was. It was hard to see clearly from where they stood, so she wasn’t even sure if the other girl would believe her, but it didn’t really matter, did it? She wasn’t going to just wait in her car. She was going to do her part and bring Tariq home. No matter the cost. She owed it to him, and Khadija, and herself. She wasn’t going to just play the innocent civilian in this scene. Also, wouldn’t it be much safer to go with the slayer than be alone in her car? “Do vampires also need to be invited inside a car to attack someone? Because I feel like I’d be much safer next to you.”

“Got it,” Fang nodded at her employer before turning her full attention toward the greater area of Bigfeet’s Adventureland where Meera’s friend should be, Fang’s target. “Bring him to your car. At the curb.” Those were the only things she needed to hear. It was a simple job for a decent amount of money. Nothing more, nothing else. The rest, the experienced slayer would be suited enough to handle all by herself. Just slice and dice some vampires. Easy peasy electric sushi. 

But then her employer had a great point. An annoying point but it did make a lot of sense. She’d definitely be much safer with Fang than alone in her car at the curb, especially if there were more than enough vampires to distract her while they fly away with her cash cow, especially with how Meera seemed panicked and inexperienced with vampires, though to be fair, an ordinary citizen should not have to be burdened with such experience. 

With a groan and with a sigh, Fang relented, shaking her head. “All right, but stay close,” she almost growled as she tightened her grip on the hilt of her katana and slowly proceeded forward. “Do you know how to defend yourself at least?”

“Defend myself?” Meera psh’d at Fang, in complete disbelief that she would even ask such a question. Of course she could defend herself. Anyone can defend themselves. Right? Heaving a sigh at her own uncertain thoughts, she scrambled to find something in her purse, showing it to Fang once she had it in her hands. It was pepper spray. “Of course I can defend myself!” 

At the time, Meera was defiantly proud at the revelation that she had pepper spray in her purse. If she had had enough time to think it through, however, she’d question how effectively pepper spray can actually defend her against these vampires. But she didn’t have the time or more precisely the luxury of time to do all that and more. Instead, she immediately followed Fang’s lead, skulking behind her, pepper spray at the ready. 

“So, uhm, how long have you been a, uhh, vampire hunter?” Probably not the best time to make small talk but Meera was scared, and sometimes when she’s scared, she talks a lot. She was also extremely close to Fang’s back, only inches from holding the latter’s sleeve to make sure she wouldn’t get lost in the park like a lost child. Or lamb sent to slaughter. Either way felt appropriate.

This was most definitely not the time for small talk. Fang and her stubborn client were slowly making their way inside the park, bodies hunched and closer to the ground to try and be stealthy about it, which the talking wouldn’t help. What it would help, though, was maybe calm Meera down. Fang was often oblivious to such things, but the woman was very transparent. It didn’t take her long to realize her attempt at small talk was a cry for help. Sort of. 

“Ever since my parents died,” Fang whispered back, not realizing she was unloading a brief version of her traumatic backstory to a complete and total stranger. “We were on holiday in another country when our car crashed because of a monster. I survived and was taken in by a local slayer who trained me to fight monsters in the dark. I’ve hunted more creatures than just your vampires. Less talkative and egotistical creatures.” That last part was a lie. Most of the monsters she’d encounter before had their fair share of egotistical moments. It was just easier to continue the stereotype unfortunately.

Meera blinked. Not just once, not just twice, but more times than she’d have cared to count. Or liked to care. Or thought she could in a span of seconds. The vampire hunter had just unloaded her tragic backstory to her, and she wasn’t quite sure what to say back. She didn’t even expect her to respond, if not just shush her like people always did. Was that a good thing? Was the unexpected response better? It was starting to seem that it wasn’t. It just made her feel a bit uncomfortable, if not embarrassed and awkwardly scrambling for an appropriate response. 

“Oh, no,” Meera gulped. “That’s so…sad.” In retrospect, maybe she should’ve just kept her mouth shut, but it was still better than just going ‘there, there’ like she was the other woman’s mother and the other woman was her child. That…just didn’t fit well, not even as an image in her head. Unexpectedly, Meera blurted out loud when she found a figure seated in one of the currently abandoned carts of a roller coaster ride: “Tariq!” Unbeknownst to the inexperienced Meera, it was a trap laid out by the things that were watching them in the dark. But Meera didn’t care. Not for her own safety. All she cared about was finding her friend. “Tariq! It’s me, Meera! Are you all right?”

What. The actual. Fuck?! Fang would’ve screamed at her client if she could afford blowing her own cover, revealing her currently safe position. The woman knew there were vampires all over the place. The woman had been scared of them from the get-go. The woman should’ve been less of an idiot and smarter at how she should have gone about this. But Fang also knew that emotions, especially the ones that gave you relief after worrying too much, often clouded someone’s judgment. Despite the danger they had put herself in, the woman was probably just extremely happy to see her friend still alive and kicking, the complete opposite of the worst that could have happened to him. She couldn’t say the same for her now.

From the corner of her eye, Fang noticed something move toward Meera. It came from the shadows. A hunter. Not a hunter like her but a vampiric hunter. A creature born of night and hunger. An abomination created by evil. Fang immediately swung into action, grabbing her katana by its handle, and swiftly slashing at it as she lunged out of her hiding spot, catching the damned thing by its…wing? The creature squirmed and squealed on the ground, and only then did Fang realize something confusing, the reason why she only sensed it when it started moving in the darkness, not before. “This isn’t a vampire,” she frowned, before turning around to look for others like it. One was fine. A swarm? That would be a mistake. “It’s…not alone.”

Meera screamed. As soon as something tried to fly toward her, she let out the loudest, most frightened scream she could muster. Her hands also flew but only over her head, as if that was enough defense from whatever the heck the monster was. When she could steal a glimpse at it, she realized the slayer was right: It was not a vampire. Or wasn’t it? It didn’t look like a traditional vampire, neither broodingly hot nor pasty white ancient. It did look vampiric, something with wings but not an actual lower half of a body. “What the heck is that thing?!”

Gulping, Meera threw her hand over Tariq who was unconscious on the cart that was part of the entire roller coaster thing. “Tariq? Tariq, wake up! It’s me, Meera! You’ll be all right! I found you! We’ll get out of here soon. I found a vampire hunter. She’ll keep us safe,” she tried her best to wake Tariq up but he was unresponsive, only groaning in turn. At least he wasn’t missing any limb, though there was a bit of blood around his neck. Meera gulped again, hoping that didn’t mean what she thought it meant. She then turned to Fang, alarmed at her final statement and furious at the same time. “What do you mean it’s not alone?! You can take out the rest, right? RIGHT?!” 

Right. Fang took a deep breath, closing her eyes. She took a moment to concentrate, searching for her, what her late mentor liked to call, center. It was always something she believed in wholeheartedly. Even before her parents’ tragedy, their upbringing already allowed for something akin to it that she would readily believe. 

Faith, in her culture at least, was not the same thing in essence to the kind of faith this part of the world liked to believe in. There was no singular god to save them all, even though that didn’t mean there was no place for such a being. Rather, everything had godly essence, which when corrupted turned into the monsters she hunted. Faith was not just bound to religion as well. Faith could be found everywhere, and at this moment, faith was Fang and her swordsmanship.

Without the expected battle cry, Fang slashed at the first flederprey that tried to attack, opening her eyes at the same time her steel rendered its wings unusable. Two more came at them, two more were disposed of. When a larger swarm came flying toward them, the slayer clenched her jaw. Without looking at the civilians behind them, she offered them a quick warning: “Head down. Stay down.” The Fanged Oni then began slashing at the oncoming cloud of death, wincing as some of them survived her retaliation, as some of those survivors even managed to scratch and bite her skin. Stupid beasts driven by hunger, deprived of intellect. It did not take long for Fang’s blood to poison those that tried to consume it, bubbling like scalding oil from within. 

As the swarm of bat-like vampire things or whatever the things were began to launch their ambush, Meera could do nothing else but defend the unconscious Tariq with her body. She looked around fervently, trying her best not to get surprised by one of them, even though she was already surprised and could not even fight them. Still, she persisted, gulping and sweating, as she put her body on the line to protect her friend. 

Catching a glimpse of the vampire slayer slashing the monsters on her own, Meera almost ran to her defense but realized she would only be a burden to the obviously experienced expert. Besides, Tariq needed her more. When the warning was given, her eyes widened in horror. The swarm she thought was frightening enough? It was a mere scouting party composed of fewer than five creatures. The actual swarm was like a blanket of darkness, the many wings combining with their screeches, a symphony of terror.

Meera froze in fear, just standing there, as Fang dealt with what she could, using her sword to take down as many as possible. The few that survived her defense rushed toward Meera and Tariq, the latter’s body less viable as a target with the way it was slumping in the cart, almost fallen to the floor, but as the medium closed her eyes, bracing herself for the pain that was inevitable, a ghostly figure appeared before the swarm could even touch her, screaming as it pushed her down on the ground. The swarm flew past her and Tariq, screeching as they fled.

Fang took a deep breath, bracing herself for the second fly-by. She never expected a single brush with monsters. All her life, she was thought to expect that they’d attack over and over again, until they were put down. It was their instinct to kill and hunt and eat, as it was their instinct to kill and protect and survive. But lo and behold, much to her shock, the swarm never returned, instead fleeing the area. Why? Was it because of her? Or was it because of something else? 

Catching a glimpse of Meera down on the ground, Fang rushed to her side, checking if she was all right. Most people would expect that she was being kind or nice or even human, but the fact of the matter was, if Meera died, she wouldn’t get paid the rest of her fee. Survival trumped anything else, at least for someone like Fang. “You okay? We should get out of here before they come back, though I don’t think they will. At least not for a while. That your friend? I’ll need help dragging him back to your car.”

At the sound of Fang’s voice, as well as her suddenly startling presence beside her, Meera instinctively opened her eyes, wide in fear and concern. The medium didn’t even think twice. With zero hesitation, she got herself up, off the ground, and hurriedly grabbed Tariq. The slayer-for-hire had the best point: They needed to get out of there. As soon as they could. Before the swarm could come back and take their fill of them, of their blood or whatever those monsters liked to gobble-gobble like deranged turkeys. “This is him! My car’s at the parking lot. It’s the only one there.”

Together with Fang, Meera lifted Tariq and dragged him along, his arm over her shoulders, the rest of his body slumping over her every other step. The medium was not a woman of action. This was all new to her, so she struggled whenever she could, almost stumbling here and there, stepping over her feet every other second. Meera breathed fast and hard, as if in a race, and a race it was, a race to their safety. In her head, she could hear those wings flapping fast behind them. Was the swarm back for seconds? Meera huffed and puffed, forcing her feet to be faster. They were so close to her car. They were almost there. Just a few more…

Fang did his best to help Meera with Tariq, though she kept her other arm free just in case she needed to take out her sword and start slashing the flederprey that would think they should keep fighting. And there was a few, around three of the creatures that tried to attack them again, swoop down at the three to give them cuts and bruises for souvenir. 

Fang fended them off with her katana, but despite her many wild slashes, only one or two actually made contact with her unlucky targets. She glared at them to boot, and when the trio neared the parking lot, the creatures must have decided it was no longer worth it and flew away, back to their swarm.

With a groan, Fang dumped Tariq in the back seat of the car while grabbing at Meera and pushing her toward the driver’s seat, a gesture that should have told her to start her damned vehicle. As soon as she deposited the friend safely in the car, Fang herself took the passenger’s seat next to Meera and heaved a sigh of relief once the doors were closed. 

“Go, go, go!” The flederprey swarm didn’t come back for them, at least they weren’t around visibly, but Fang didn’t want to take that chance. She wanted them to get the hell out of there as soon as possible, her job done. Some other local hunter would take care of that mess. All she was getting paid for was to get the friend out. Easy peasy… “...lemon squeezy.”

Fang didn’t have to tell Meera twice. As soon as all the doors were secured, all three of them in her car, the inexperienced medium put the pedal to the metal. With an adrenaline-fueled, but totally not appropriate battlecry. More like a scream, but in her head it was a battlecry, less scared and more courageous. “YEAH! So long, you gross bloodsuckers! Suck on these—” she cut herself off when she realized she was losing it. “…vampires looked weird, didn’t they?” 

“Should we go to the hospital? I don’t think Tariq is wounded. I think he’d be better off at the tea shop,” Meera kept her eyes on the road, even as she tried to steal glimpses of her fallen friend. He didn’t have any wounds on him. At least as far as she could have seen in all that night. Still, he wasn’t wet anywhere, so even if he had wounds, they’d probably be closed already. Unless… “Is he going to turn into one of those things? Also, is this how you spend your nights? That’s messed up!”

The road back to the tea shop was long, at least longer than she’d like, but at least it was quiet. Well, with the exception of Meera struggling to make small talk as a way to calm herself as well as everyone else in her car, nothing else stirred. Thankfully not bat wings in the dead of the night. She’ll probably have to sleep early for the next few days. Then again, she had ghosts at home, so they’ll probably keep the vampires away, right? One of them even pushed her to safety. At least that’s what it looked like. Ghosts wouldn’t kill her, right? Especially not her ghosts relatives. “Should I drive you somewhere later or are you going to call an Uber back home? Where do you live anyway?”

Fang ignored the semi-personal questions the woman threw her way, not wanting to share intimate information that could get her in trouble. She simply mumbled that she would get off where her employer lived, which she assumed was the tea shop she mentioned. Get off the car, for anyone out there currently thinking green. Save the environment, right? “No, he won’t,” the slayer growled. “No bite marks on him…strangely.”

Did the flederprey not like his scent? Did they think he wasn’t fresh enough of a prey, suitable enough of nourishment for them? Do they even think? Fang had more questions than answers and she scowled at that fact. Those weren’t even vampires. At least not yet. Not as far as she knew. And how she spent her nights was not the woman’s business, though Fang realized she was most likely just saying things to calm herself down. She’s seen it before. Won’t be the last.

Finally, they arrived at some sort of family business at Gaitlin Fields. Best Exotic Tea? Fang raised an eyebrow at that statement. The woman did not look like an expert at tea or anything really, but tonight was filled with surprises. Quickly, she helped her with her friend, carrying him with her inside before dumping him on the nearest couch. Fang immediately searched him for bite marks and found nothing grievous. Just as she had assumed. She heaved another sigh, almost disappointed. 

“Where’s my remaining pay?” Fang growled again. Once she had it, she’d get out of the woman’s hair. The job was done. The deal was over. She needed a shower herself and some much-needed rest. “You and your friend should stay out of that place until the flederprey are gone.”

Meera heaved a sigh of relief when Fang confirmed that Tariq would not suffer any detrimental changes to himself and his well-being. Between the two of them, or maybe even among the three of them, the hunter-for-hire was the sole expert on all things vampires, so Meera had no choice but to accept her prognosis. Not that she had any reason to think otherwise, too. Meera had zero basic knowledge on vampires, most of what she knew were from movies and books, and what had just happened to them at that place was not from movies and books. 

“We’re here,” Meera nodded as she drove into the makeshift parking lot of Best Exotic Tea, barely enough space for five vehicles, but it was the best she’s got. Hurriedly, she parked her car, and with Fang’s help, managed to drag the still unconscious Tariq inside the tea shop and onto a couch where he could rest up. She looked him over one final time, concern all over her face, and frowned at his condition. At least Fang did another check on his body to fully ensure her earlier statement. “He’s going to be fine,” Meera muttered, not to convince Fang but mostly to convince herself. “He’s going to be just fine.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Meera scrambled to locate her purse, and the remaining amount that the woman had definitely earned tonight. “Don’t worry… None of us will ever go back to that place ever again.” Once she found it all, she immediately surrendered the money to Fang with an awkward smile, before immediately growing concerned as soon as the slayer began to leave the premises. “The fleder… Those things will be gone soon, right? I mean, I’m not just worried about me and my friends, but also about the other people that might get lost there or left behind or whatever?”

Fang was already on her way out when Meera asked her one last question. In her head, she wanted to just get on out of their, pretend she didn’t hear it, but the concern in her voice, well… Damn it. She just couldn’t walk out on the woman like that, like this. Something about Meera, something inside of Fang, melted, as if the former was a bright sun and the latter was a frozen wasteland that needed to thaw. 

With a deep sigh, Fang turned her head to look back at Meera, mustering her warmest smile, which wasn’t as warm as everyone else would be able to do. It was like a toddler’s attempt: Half friendly, half annoyed. It was the thought that counts, though, right? 

“Sure,” the slayer tried to reassure her employer as best as she could, considering Fang didn’t even believe the same. “Those things won’t stay there forever. Sooner or later, another hunter’s going to clean that place up, chase them out of there. That or they’ll get a brain, realize that they’ve been found, that that place wouldn’t make for a safe nest anymore, so they’ll just leave, fly away and never return.”

Another sigh. “But you have my number,” she nodded at the woman, hoping the concern on her face would dissipate soon. She looked better without them. Meera was annoying but her heart was in the right place. The world needed her smile. Or something like that. Fang heaved a final sigh before walking out of there. Staying a second longer might break her solitary mystique. “Call me if you need anything, Meera.”

[chasseurdeloup]

Fangs for the Help || Kit and Kaden

TIMING: Early May LOCATION: Driftwood Diner PARTIES: @kitwithfangs and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Kit finds themself wandering into a diner and sitting next to a grumpy, tired hunter. They chat and it's totally fine and no one gets hurt. [AKA: “I know what you are.” “Say it.”] CONTENT WARNINGS: reference to past drug abuse

Look, no one tell Matty if you saw him, but Kit wasn’t having the easiest time adjusting to all that being a vampire was. It was easier when they were a spawn because it was just a freefall into bloodlust, giving over and giving in to absolute hunger. But they can’t do that now, and they don’t want to either. Their stomach still rolled over when they thought of how they ate, what they ate. And, more than anything, what it meant that they ate like that. They had killed people and that was something they were going to have to square with.

Doing normal, human things helped in some small way, though. Listening to records and learning their way around the internet and hell, man, just wearing clothes again was a riot. And after decades of mostly crypts and basements, being outside in the open air was a treasure. The house in the woods was secluded enough that Kit could go wandering without venturing near people. Probably not the best idea, Matty thought, them going around people on their own just yet. And Kit agreed, for the record.

Like, they hadn’t meant to go into town. But once they were, it was already midnight so there weren’t all that many people around anyway. So what was the harm in exploring the city a little bit? 

Heading into the 24-hour diner, though, that was all their fault. It just reminded Kit so much of the places they would stop on those first tours: run down roadside joints that had never passed a health inspection. Pushing in, they headed for the counter and took a seat, nostalgic grin loose on their face. Another great thing about places like this? No one would question why you were wearing shades at midnight.

There weren’t all that many other patrons in the place, a guy one stool down, a group of college-aged kids in a far booth, and a couple who seemed to have decided this was the place and time for a romantic dinner date. Which, you know, more power to them. When the waitress stopped at Kit, they asked for just a coffee. They were more interested in the ambiance than eating. Not like they needed to eat food anymore, anyway.

—-

Kaden didn’t know what the hell time it was other than too fucking late to be awake. If he was going to keep hunting the “rabid dog” spotted downtown, he was going to need some sustenance. Instead, he’d have to settle for diner food and what they pretended was coffee. It was better than nothing. At least, that’s what he was telling himself as he rested his head in his hands, elbows leaning against the counter. 

The squeak of the seat next to him jolted him awake. “Putain.” He hadn’t even realized he’d drifted off. He looked over to see someone had sat one stool down from him. A suggestion of a nod was all he managed before sinking back into his position against the counter. 

“What do you want?” the waitress asked, causing him to jump again. Goddamn. It was clear from her tone that she was the only one working at the moment and she didn’t have time to waste with chit chat or indecision. He appreciated it.

“Coffee,” he said with a grumble.

“Anything else?” she asked, tapping her pen on her pad of paper.

Fuck, he hadn’t thought that far. “Eggs.”

“What kind?”

Putain de merde, this was too many questions for this time of night. He was starting to appreciate her abruptness a little less now. “The egg kind,” he said, rubbing his hands down his face. He didn’t have to look at the waitress or wait for her to say anything to feel the waves of frustration radiating from her. “I don’t fucking know, surprise me.”

“Scrambled it is,” she said, whisking away to get the coffees for him and the person who sat next to him, practically throwing the mugs across the counter at them when she did. 

It took him a few seconds to pull himself upright enough to grab the coffee and a few more to piece together the fragments floating in his mind desperately trying to create a thought. “No cream and sugar, I guess,” he said, loud enough for the waitress to hear. Promptly, a few packets of sugar and small single cups of half and half were chucked at his head. “Fucking hell,” he said as he scrambled to catch them before they bounced off to the table behind him. “Thanks,” he mumbled back.

—-

It’d be a lie to say that Kit hadn’t meant to overhear the conversation of the man next to her. That’s why you came to diners at ass o’clock at night: people-watching and eavesdropping. Once he had finished putting his order in, Kit leaned a few inches toward him. “I dunno that asking for a surprise from a place like this is the best idea, yanno?” Never knew what you might end up getting and what it might end up doing to your gastrointestinal system. And this guy looked rough enough as it was, clearly not having the best night. Kit tilted their shades down so they could meet his eyes and offer a smile.

In the next minute, Kit was getting their coffee practically thrown at them and they had to stifle a laugh. They loved joints like this, servers like her. This waitress had clearly used up all her shits years ago, maybe decades, and had none left to give. And when she launched the sugar and cream at the guy next to them? Kit couldn’t hold in their laughter any longer. “Sorry, dude,” they offered, putting their grin behind the mug and taking their first sip. The coffee was terrible and perfect – even with their muted sense of taste. “That was just pretty hilarious. Maybe you oughta start drinking yours black. Less chance of, like, being blinded by a condiment projectile.”

They swiveled on their stool, facing out at the rest of the diner. Another couple wandered in, shady as all hell with trench coats and hats. Kit got distracted by the whiff of sea breeze through the open door, though. It was nothing like the ocean they remembered – more like low tide than the sparkling Pacific or their home and native Atlantic. But it was salty and sharp and hit them at the back of the throat. How long had it been since they had been swimming? They couldn’t do like they used to and spend full days on the beach anymore —which, what a fucking bummer. But maybe they could find some place suitable for a little night swimming. 

—

Kaden grumbled. “Nothing here is going to have any nutritional value so it might as well be a surprise. It’ll all be mostly grease and butter so what does it matter?” At some point, his taste buds would probably adjust to American cooking and cuisine. Maybe things would taste better than. He sighed and took a sip of his coffee.

No. He’d never adjust to any of this. Honestly, he was a little bit okay with that fact. 

He wanted to be annoyed at the laughter coming from two seats down but he couldn’t find it in himself; there was no pushing past the exhaustion. That and he couldn’t exactly argue that it was probably a fucking sight from the other side. “Glad I could be some late night entertainment,” he said as he peeled off the lid on the half and half packet, pouring it into his “coffee.” It helped the taste, at least. Not by much but it was something. “What’s got you so chipper this late at night, anyway?” he asked, finally looking over at them. Leather jacket, sunglasses at night. Yeah, seemed like this was their sort of place from the looks of it. Couldn’t say why, just the sort of impression he got. 

—

Kit laughed again at the man’s grumbling, nodding. “Yeah, that sounds about right. This is my first time at this particular establishment but. You’ve been to one, you’ve been to ‘em all, ya know?” They should have just left the man alone at that. He was clearly exhausted and in no mood for their frivolity. Probably coming off a long shift or something worse. But at the end of the day, he reminded them of Drew – except that Drew was eighty now and had arthritis. He did still complain like he always had, though, like this man seemed to be partial too.

“Hey, dinner and a show,” Kit said with a shrug. And then, amending, “Or, at least, coffee and theater.” At the question, they hummed in thought. They couldn’t very well tell him that it was because they had been living as a sort of half-beast for the past near-half-decade and this was the first time they had been out and about as something close to human so just sitting at a shitty diner like this one was a goddamn thrill. Yeah, couldn’t lay that truth out on the table. So instead they just took another long sip of their coffee and said, “Love places like this one. Just moved into town and I’m glad to see that even a weirdo seaside Maine village has something of the genre.”

Kit flipped their sunglasses up—they weren’t even the slightest bit hungry so they weren’t worried about that whole red eye business— and settled them into their curls. “So. Why are you so decidedly unchipper? End of a long shift, is my guess.”

—

“Yeah, I guess,” Kaden replied. “Can’t say I’ve been to many of these. Not really from here. I’m sure you couldn’t tell.” He was well aware that his accent wasn’t the most subtle, even if he didn’t think it was that obvious. He was questioned about it enough to know that denial wasn’t worth it. 

“You love places like this?” he repeated, raising a brow as he did. “What’s the appeal you’re seeing that I’m clearly missing?” There had to be something. Beyond the fact that it was open at the moment. That was currently the only redeeming quality in his eyes at the moment. This was hardly five star dining. Maybe, maybe there was some charm to find here but it wasn’t his first choice regardless. “Only been here a few months, too. I’m almost afraid to ask what brought you here, given the kind of town it is.” 

He looked over to his apparent dinner company at their question. Had to say, he didn’t expect to have a lot of conversation tonight. It wasn’t annoying him, though. Yet. Guess it was nice enough. Kept him awake at least. “Yeah, late night shift, I guess you could call it. I work in animal control. One of those great late night cases. Always a favorite.” He gulped down what he could of his coffee, hoping that if he just drank it fast enough, he could ignore the taste and reap the benefits sooner. 

—

“You came here by way of France? Or Montreal?” Kit would bet it was the former. Canada’s culture wasn’t all that much different from the States, or at least, not enough to make someone feel like an outsider in a diner. Kit had fond memories of France (of Canada too, really). “That’s a pretty big move.” They imagined it wasn’t too long ago, gauging by how much his accent was still lingering.

“Yeah, man! Love a divey spot.” They laughed and had to shrug. “All right, maybe it’s not so much the place itself but the nostalgia it serves. Spent a lot of time on the road and there was always some 24-hour, roadside diner like this one.” Good for a stop when it was time for any meal, or ducking in after a show for 2 AM milkshakes and disco fries. Drew half-asleep against the window, Dan and Matty stealing fries and onion rings from each other, and Kit just soaking it all up. Their head cocked at his next statement. “Yeah, funky little town, isn’t it?” So far, though, Kit found themself enjoying the place. Even if a large portion of her experiences were either through the internet or just walking the woods at night. “I…came with a friend,” they offered, uncertain of how exactly to explain it. “I was sick for a while. Figured a place like this might be good for some rest and relaxation.” Hopefully that seemed believable enough.  

Kit straightened at the mention of animal control. Did that extend to…what they had been? Late night case. That’s what they could have been, without Matty looking out. They dipped their chin as if studying their cup of coffee. “Sounds like a bummer,” they offered. “Hey, hope you get off soon, can get to bed.”

—

“France.” Kaden’s tone was almost like he was disgusted. The mere suggestion he was from Canada was offensive. Just because they wanted to be French up there in Quebec didn’t mean they were. Right. This person didn’t care. Most people didn’t. He sighed and nodded back at them. “Yeah I have family in town and moved in with them a few months ago. Otherwise Wicked’s Rest probably wouldn’t be my first pick.” Kaden hadn’t given too much thought to where he was going to go after the incident with his sister. His only plan was “away.” Andy just happened to be the first option he thought of. Had to wonder where he’d be now if he hadn’t gotten that postcard. 

Kaden gave a small, groggy nod back at them. “Guess that makes sense. Nostalgia’s probably the only thing that could win me over. If anything.” He still wasn’t sure if even that would be enough. His life had been strings of good enough and quick meals. He couldn’t say he ever longed for stops like this one. It was too fucking sad to sit and think about all the bullshit reasons why he was so familiar with this sort of crap. “What had you on the road so much, if you don’t mind me asking?” For whatever reason, Kaden always had to check and see if the other person was like him, a hunter, as soon as any small possibility was offered up. Especially in this town. 

“This town? Relaxing? Your friend might have been mistaken there.” Kaden couldn’t help but laugh. “Uh, glad you’re doing better, though.” He wasn’t going to pry beyond that. It sounded like something serious and he didn’t want to get tangled up with that. Not in a fucking diner in the middle of the night.

He noticed something in their demeanor shifted when he mentioned what he did. Putain, was this one of those people who thought animal control were puppy killers or some shit like that? He hoped not. He hated trying to explain it. Maybe they didn’t like cops? He couldn’t disagree there. The fact that he was on the WRPD force was the biggest downside to his job, he had to admit. “Yeah, we’ll see. The fucking rai–” Putain, almost called the monster what it was in fucking public. He was too tired for this. “The coyote running around in town has been hard to pin down. So hopefully I ki–” He coughed to hide the second near slip. “Catch him sooner rather than later.” 

—

Wasn’t that a line. Kit was already tempted to rip it for lyrics. Nostalgia’s the only thing that could win me over. Saying that sort of thing usually came with some tragic happening in the not-so-distant past. Not the kind of thing you’d up and share with some stranger in a greasy spoon, though, so Kit let it lie. “Music,” Kit answered, a grin air-dropping onto their face. “I was in a band and in those early years when we were on the road, it was always stops like this place.” Cheap, mostly. 

A hand up through their hair, Kit laughed with their new friend. “Yeah,” they drawled. “You’re not wrong.”Of course it was exactly that weirdness of Wicked’s Rest that had pulled Matty toward it in the first place. Hoping something in the leylines or whatever made it so freaky would mean an answer to the forty-year’s question. And hey! He had been right on that. “But we’re digging it, mostly, so far.” Well, Kit was pretty sure Matty wasn’t actually but that was a problem for another party. 

Was that coyote he was after actually a coyote? There were other spawn, lurking in the cemetery their crypt had been in. (Their crypt, as if they owned it or something, as if it had been a home). A town like this, maybe someone in animal control knew the score of things. Knew how to manage against what they had been. Kit wasn’t sure how to feel about that. They didn’t want some poor human to get mauled and die but. They couldn’t wish that on their…what? Kin? Was there any kinship left between Kit and the other spawn that might be wandering around? Were they all like them, higher-mind caught up in the net of hunger and rage and instinct, desperate to come back to life if they only even knew they were missing it?

A shatter and a curse, harsh and loud, from the other side of the counter interrupted Kit’s thoughts. Their waitress swore again and then Kit didn’t really hear anything. The world narrowed to the bass-deep, copper smell of blood. Human blood too, the scent winding its way against their hard palate. Kit had more or less been daydreaming in most of their biology classes so they couldn’t tell you what exact distinct differences there were between the blood of a chicken and a pig and a human. But whatever they were now seemed to know inherently, instinctually. 

Kit whirled on the stool and there was their waitress, the remains of a shattered coffee pot on the floor and her very bloody hand, held up. They weren’t too adept at the way this whole thing went, but they could tell that their fangs were out and their eyes were as red as the blood their waitress was trying to mop up with a clump of napkins. Some kind of rumble tearing up through their chest, their hands spread on the counter like they’re about to launch themself over it. Maybe they are.

—

Music? Ah, that made it all make sense. “I’d ask if it was any good but I’ve been told by my cousin that I have terrible taste in music,” Kaden said offering a half smile. “So I wouldn’t know either way.” He didn’t listen to a whole lot on his own and when he did, he mostly stuck to the records that had been his dad’s. Mostly 70’s of varying quality which Alex didn’t let him forget.

The coffee wasn’t doing enough to keep Kaden’s lids from falling closed. He had his head propped up by his elbow on the table, but he kept finding his balance wavering. Putain, he didn’t want to take a nap on the counter of a goddamn diner, but it might happen whether he wanted it to or not.

The shattering glass sent a shock through his system, jolting him awake. The hunter glanced around to find the source of the mishap. It was easy enough to find, it was right in front of him, but that wasn’t what caught his eye. A blur or motion flashed in his peripheral vision and Kaden turned to see what was going on. 

He half expected to see his late night chat buddy jumping up to offer the waitress some sort of assistance (they seemed like the type). Instead, they were leaning over the counter, coiled and ready to pounce, like a panther stalking its prey. What the hell was going on?

He saw their eyes first: bloodshot red. Then the fangs. “Merde.” It was then he connected the dots. The blood on the waitress’s hand. The feral stance of his present companion beside him. Without another thought, Kaden threw himself at them and grappled them. He didn’t have a plan, not a real one anyway, but if he could just keep them pinned down for the time being, he was sure he could come up with something.

—

One second Kit was pinhole-focused on the waitress and her blood and the next their world was wheeling. They barely had time to register that they were falling before they slammed into the ground, someone’s full weight against them. And, oh, it was their conversation buddy. But Kit mostly just saw the pump of his pulse moving through his carotid artery. It was faster than your average sitting pulse and that just meant more blood, God, they could smell it. From the waitress across the counter and from inside of the man hauling over them and it was all so much.

They hadn’t even been hungry when they left the house. Not really. Except in the way that they were always hungry. The way that lukewarm chicken and pig never seemed to slake their thirst. The promise of fresh blood on the air, though, set them off wildly. Fresh and warm and still pumping from a living heart. Kit could remember, in their hindbrain, what it had felt like. What it had tasted like, to rip into a throat with a heart still beating. Hot viscera and marrow sliding down their throat and Matty petting their hair, telling them it was okay, they were okay, to just eat their fill. 

But they weren’t that, anymore. They weren’t that thing, that animal that they had been and Matty knew it. Matty was keeping them off the human blood, and they were going to do good. For him, if nothing else. 

Their red eyes found the other man’s over them, begging. “Don’t let me go,” they said through an aching throat, words slurring against fangs. He was strong enough to throw them to the ground, they only hoped he was strong enough to keep them there. “Please, don’t let me go.” Even as they asked that of him, something in them fought, tried to get to the meal behind the counter, instinctually. Their body calling out for the blood.

—

As their two bodies slammed onto the floor, Kaden realized how fucking stupid his plan was. He was no fucking slayer, he could still be turned, and beyond that, he could be drained dry – hunter or not, didn’t matter, he was still human which was all that would matter in the end. He was aware of how close their fangs were to his neck. He could feel his own pulse pounding in his ears now that the danger had settled in. If he were someone else, he would have run. Instead, his unshakable training kept him there on the ground, arms wrapped around them, holding them in place. 

He could feel them trying to break free, to launch themselves at the blood flowing freely behind the counter. Putain de merde, he almost forgot about the waitress, how injured she was. “Someone help behind the counter!” he shouted to whoever the fuck would listen. The sooner she got patched up the better. He wasn’t sure how long he could hold back a feral vampire from their prey. 

Kaden’s eyes darted around, trying to spot anything wooden within reach. He didn’t want to have to resort to that, but it might be the only option. Shit, everything was metal, fucking everything. Couldn't someone drop a goddamn pencil once in a while? 

Before the hunter could try to come up with another plan, any other fucking plan, the vampire spoke. His brows knit together, confusion washing over him. “What?” They… They were asking him to keep them held down? He didn’t understand. They wanted to be kept from their potential meal? But they were fighting him. The hunter could feel his grip loosening in all the questioning. Shit. He wrapped his arms around them tighter, nodding at them in confirmation. “Just don’t fucking bite me, got it?” He wasn’t sure how long he could hold them back or how long he would have to, but he had to hope that it was enough, that this wasn’t a trick.

—

There was the scuffle of movement, of people talking, or maybe shouting. Kit couldn’t be sure. Their world had narrowed to the scent of blood and the arms around them. “I won’t,” they promised. 

But it would be so easy to. Bite him.  His neck was right there, pounding with human blood. Or even his chest, the aorta, so close to his heart. It would be so warm and fast, that close. They could still remember the way that particular artery ripped under teeth and spilled blood into their mouth–

The scent mellowed. Didn’t disappear, it was still woven thick in the air, but it was getting staler. Someone had shuffled the waitress into a back room, it seemed. Without the source of that fresh blood, Kit’s manic hunger ebbed somewhat. It was just the stain of whatever spilled on the floor and that was less appetizing. Not that they couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t lap it right off the dirty linoleum, though. Some of the fight did leave their body and they relaxed against the man, sinking into his hold as if it were an embrace, not a restraint.

“Thank you,” Kit sighed out, barely audible. Their fangs were still popped, though, and their eyes were likely still red. Not safe yet. “Can you–” They nearly gagged on how persistent their hunger was. “Can you get me outside? Please.” It would be easier, if they were just further away from it. Outside. And then they could go home. To Matty. Sort their head out. But they wouldn’t be able to pull themself away. Not on their own.

—

Kaden had to trust that they weren’t lying. He had to. What other choice did he have? Alright, sure, he could get up and find some way to stake them. That was an option in front of him. He could practically feel his sister’s gaze boring into him like they had that night when he couldn’t– He could hear her calling him weak. And pathetic. Merde, he couldn’t let his thoughts drift there. He couldn’t. And he wasn’t going to let go. He had to hold on. He had to trust that this vampire didn’t want to hurt anyone as much as he didn’t want to stake them. 

He felt relief sink into his shoulders when they asked to take them outside. He nodded, releasing some of his grip around them slowly. It was then he remembered that they weren’t alone in the diner. Putain de merde, there were going to be some questions. He took a deep breath and then started to stand up, making sure to keep at least one hand around their arm. When he was up, he reached down to pull them up with him and darted to the door with his hands on their shoulders, guiding them out of the diner, ready to throw them against a wall if he had to on the way out. 

Once they were outside, Kaden navigated them into a corner on the side of the diner. It was empty and didn’t look like anyone would walk past. No one could watch them from the windows, either. Out of an abundance of caution, the hunter kept his arm braced across their chest while their back was against the wall. “Let me know,” he said, his heart rate finally slowing down. “Let me know when you’re alright.” Even though the situation felt like it was under control, the hunter was still on edge. He couldn’t help but look around for any pieces of wood in his peripheral vision. Killing someone wasn’t his first choice, not anymore, but frankly, they were already dead. And if they were a danger to everyone around them, Kaden wasn’t opposed to making tough calls. Damien’s face flashed in his mind. Putain. He really didn’t want to have to kill anyone. Please, please be alright so he didn’t have to turn them into dust. 

—

And then… And then they were outside. Kit could still smell the blood but it was easier to breathe past that. Not that they needed to breathe at all. Whatever. He kept his arm across their chest and the brick of the wall was biting into their back, but Kit felt far more level. Back in control, to some degree. Not quite like the monster, the animal, they had been before. Not so ruled by their impulse and hunger and the rage and the fear and…

“I’m okay,” they said after a long stretch. Not that they would blame him if he didn’t believe that. But whatever kind of internal rattle and shake had died down and they could hear their own thoughts. The roar of hunger was just a dim little quake beneath the rest of the world. They weren’t that monster, that animal, not anymore. 

Ha. Wasn’t it fitting their new friend was in Animal Control?

“You don’t seem surprised by the…well,” Kit gestured up, where their fangs were still poking out. (They hadn’t quite yet mastered the best way to hold their jaw, arrange their tongue. The fangs in their mouth still felt like something that didn’t belong.) He definitely had a pulse, definitely smelled human. A human who knew about vampires, it seemed. And they wanted to get home, to Matty, needed to. But they needed to make sure they were safe, both of them.

—

The longer he held them against the wall, the more Kaden worried that he would have to make this a fight, that he would have to be what he was trained to be. A weight he didn’t realize had piled onto his shoulders lifted when they said they were okay. They didn’t look quite as restless and ready to go in for the kill as they had just a minute ago. Slowly, he lifted his arm away, keeping his hands up and ready to leap back into action if he needed to. 

His stomach churned with an uneasiness that he couldn’t quite name. This wasn’t supposed to work this way. He wasn’t supposed to trust a vampire. He should pick up some sort of stick and drive it through their heart. Especially since they clearly weren’t in complete control of themselves. Kaden kept his defenses up, even if only slightly. He didn’t lean back in his stance and his hand all but hovered over the knife sheathed at his side. 

“Yeah,” was all he could say at first, his mouth pulled into a thin, straight line. This was the part he didn’t know how to handle, the type of encounter he’d never faced up until this point. “I know what you are. Not the first time I’ve seen a vampire.” But it was the first time he stood there face to face with one, their fangs out, not attempting to turn them into dust. Kaden still wasn’t sure it was the right choice. “Has that happened before?” It was the first thing he could think to ask, but he had a dozen questions swimming in his head, too many things he wanted to know before he even considered walking away. 

—

He eased off them and Kit almost panicked at it. The weight of his strength baring down was a comfort, made them certain that they wouldn’t completely lose it. But they found that they were…okay? Mostly. Didn’t feel the need to go breakneck back into the diner and after the blood, at least. They met his eyes, clearly not trusting them and who could blame him, and gave a little nod. Again, he’d be perfectly within his rights not to trust them, but they felt steady. Okay. 

Okay, so he knew about vampires but didn’t seem ready for a full Show and Tell session. Kit wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Were their other humans just wandering about, who knew about vampires? Well, shit, actually, Kit knew of at least two humans who fit that bill, but that was different. Or was it? Was it possible that they had just run into someone who had a vampire loved one? “Well, I’m grateful for it, anyway,” they said. “Would’ve been a real fucking mess if you hadn’t done that back there so… Thank you, again.”

They hummed a thoughtful note. Coughed out a wry laugh. “Not exactly, no. I’m kinda…freshly minted, so to speak. Still working through all the particulars.” Like the blood lust and the difference between being around blood from a goddamned chicken and blood from a human. Blood that was still alive, still being pumped out by a live heart… “Been trying to keep away from humans, to avoid that exact scene. I didn’t even really mean to show up here, you know, I was just walking around the woods and before I knew it…” Hadn’t meant it. They weren’t sure that he would believe them. Weren’t sure that Matty would.

—

Speaking with them, it was impossible to ignore their humanity, to tuck it away and forget about it, the way he had been trained to; the way he’d done it for years. Kaden was talking to a vampire, sure, but there was a person, too. Some part of his past slithered into his mind, trying to tell him that it was all an act, a form of self-preservation that monsters performed to try and keep hunters from doing what was right. But Alex wasn’t acting. Damien hadn’t been, either. And he was willing to bet that neither were they. 

He gave them a small nod of acknowledgement at their thanks. It was hard to accept just yet when it felt like the situation was still teetering on a tightrope. So they were new. Which probably meant they’d died recently. And then came back as a monster. A pit dropped in his stomach at the thought. 

“Guess I can see why you were trying to stay away.” It was strange, though. A vampire who wasn’t trying to kill or drink human blood. It went against everything he’d learned and thought he knew. It was still hard to believe, but the evidence was there right in front of him. If they had wanted to feed, they could have done so right then and there in the diner. And if they were trying to lure him away as a more covert meal, then what were they waiting for? Doubt swirled inside of him, but Kaden had to face what was right there, not hypotheticals and what ifs. 

“Do you have somewhere to go? That’s safe?” Kaden wasn’t sure where that would be or what that would mean in this case, but he couldn’t walk away without some sort of confirmation that the entire scene wouldn’t simply repeat itself in his absence with a much worse outcome. Inaction was still a choice. Choosing to let them walk away could mean he had more blood on his hands down the line and he’d like to at least lie to himself long enough to keep his conscience clear. 

—

Trying to stay away. Too bad they had failed. Just hadn’t tried hard enough. Like they hadn’t tried hard enough not to fall back into the drugs and the drunk after getting clean the first time. It wasn’t the same thing, that’s what they had tried to tell Matty all those years ago. Had convinced him, to some degree, because, well, he drank from them on the regular, didn’t he? But Kit wasn’t so sure, now that they were feeling it themself. Or maybe they just weren’t as strong as he was.

Kit’s eyes ticked up at the question. They were caught off-guard, somewhat, by the concern there. Not that they were catching any kind of malicious vibes from the dude, but they hadn’t expected that kind of care. “I do, yeah. I have a house, out in the woods, and–” Could he be trusted, though? Could they risk mentioning Matty if this guy was going to be a problem later? “And someone to keep me safe.” Hell, you were never going to get any trust unless you offered it yourself, right? At any rate, it helped calm them a little, to think of the house, their home, and Matty waiting back there for them.

“Sorry for interrupting your post-shift meal and all,” Kit said, offering a chagrined smile.

—

Kaden nodded again, trying to soak it all in. The weight of his decision only grew heavier with each second that passed. Deep down he knew, though, that looking back at the person he had chatted and joked with in the diner, he wouldn’t have been able to do it. Because his sister was right. He was a sorry excuse for a hunter. And here he was, leaving his heart open and bleeding on the pavement behind the diner. Some part of him, the part he tried to keep tucked away, was disgusted with himself. Guess he didn’t need his family around to layer onto his shame after all. 

“Good. That’s good.” He wasn’t entirely sure he believed that himself, if that would be enough. “At least now you know to be more careful. Maybe come with a buddy or something.” Kaden wasn’t sure if the assurance was for them or if it was for himself. “Don’t worry about it,” he said with a shrug. The interruption to his hunt was the last thing on his mind just then. In fact, he had no intention of going back into that diner or even continuing tracking the monster. How could he now that his focus was shot to hell? 

Unsure what to do now, he scuffed the pavement with his shoe, kicking up a small cloud of dirt around their feet. “If you need help…” He trailed off as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. Putain, why had he started that? What the fuck had he even meant to say? How in the fuck was he going to help? “I don’t know. I’m around. I guess. Working a lot of late shifts.” Merde, he was fucking stupid. He should walk it back. He was already responsible for Alex, even if Andy was the one doing most of the work. He didn’t need to take on any other responsibilities. Or liabilities. But apparently he couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut.

—

A dry scoff pressed out of Kit – Yeah, that’s what Matty had said. That he should just be there, for the first while, if there were gonna be humans around. Turned out he was right, go figure. “Yeah. Yeah, I will.” Or at least they’d just be more careful to stick to the woods and not get drawn into the town. 

They cocked their head at his offer, a smile starting. “That’s sweet. Thanks, dude. I’m hoping I’ll be good but… Can’t hurt to have friends around.” With that, they started to edge away from the wall, moving for the street. All that frantic frenzy had burned up inside of them like a bottle rocket and now they just felt spent. And this wasn’t even the end of it because when they got home, they would have to talk to Matty. Even with that looming, they were looking forward to just being home.

Before pitching around on their toes and showing him their back, they tick a finger up. “Oh, uh,” They don’t offer their hand, too afraid that he might not take it. What with the fangs and the eyes and the being driven to near murder in a shitty diner. But they do trail out, “I’m Kit, by the way.” It was always helpful, they figured, to put a name to the face. “Circumstances might’ve been subpar, but it was good to meet you.”

And then they do head home, turning their back to him and trusting that he won’t put a stake through it.

—

Something about their attitude was, well, calming wasn’t exactly the right word. Disarming, maybe? It was enough for Kaden’s guard to slowly fall away, his hand no longer ready to grab his knife in an instant. Were they always like this? So blase about tense situations? Guess he’d find out.

“Don’t mention it,” he said. Really, he hoped they didn’t mention it to anyone. If it got back to a hunter, it could get back to his sister and– No, he wasn’t going to go down that path. That was too fucking paranoid. “Kaden,” he added with a nod as he watched them walk off, about to turn and walk home himself. “Guess you saved me from the dinner surprise eggs.”

[f4nrir]

GAUZE PLAY WITH MIGGY!! its so overwhelming, its too much, he cant take it anymore!! just tying him up and overstimming him while he sobs n yells n squirms around, cock bright red and soaked in his own cum. poor baby gets so stupid off the pleasure, hes so sensitive and he feels like hes going crazy. making him cum so much that even once hes empty, you keep going until he squirts,, he didnt even know he could do that, and you wanna see more of it >:3

also just in case you dont know what gauze play is, its taking a piece of gauze (or sometimes something like pantyliners/hoses) and soaking it in lube before rubbing/polishing someones cock with it, typically focusing on the head. sometimes wrapping the whole piece around their cock and jerking them off like that. its sooooooooooooooooooooooooo

delicate

一 pairing ; miguel o'hara x male reader

cw: sub!miguel, (m receiving), dom!reader, (reader giving), teasing, overstimulation, gauze play, implied bondage, usage of a gag.

miguel’s cries filled the room with each touch on his cock, the wetness of the fabric sending sensations all throughout his body that was indescribable. he whimpered as you trailed the material along his pelvis and up his cock, before briefly wrapping it around his sensitive tip. “mierda! stop, no more please! can’t take it” he yelled against the gag you had him in, flinching harder than before. 

“you just don’t learn, huh?” you placed your hands on his hips and pinned them down to the bed, snickering at his pathetic cries as you touched him. 

miguel begged further, attempting to buck his hips into the air but you shot the opportunity down. “too overwhelmed— it hurts, i don’t like—“ he followed that with another orgasm, painting your hands with his cum.

“your body says otherwise, pup” you licked some off of your hand and absorbed the taste in your mouth, humming contently to yourself before pulling him into a kiss. miguel moaned against your lips as he tasted himself on your tongue. “you taste so good, hm? tell me you agree,” miguel hesitated for a moment before caving in, “i do. thank you, sir,” he murmured and you chuckled, rewarding him by taking your hand off of his cock. he frantically mumbled thank you under his breath as he felt some relief after a few orgasms, stimulating him the whole time without any break. that is until you placed the gauze back on his aching tip, moving it around to find his most sensitive spots. 

a loud cry emitted from miguel as tears began rolling down his face, his fangs suddenly becoming prominent as they pierced through the gag he had on his mouth. “¿es demasiado para ti?” you teased as you continued to use the gauze while peppering soft kisses along the side of his shaft. [t: is this too much for you?]

you watched as miguel threw his head back into the pillow, moaning and crying into the gag as his eyes rolled to the back of his skull. attempting to soothe him, you placed loving kisses on his hips and inner thighs. the sounds of his moans and cries only encouraged you to keep going as you found joy in toying with him, especially seeing him so helpless as he’s bound with restraints. 

just before you thought he was done, he reached another orgasm as cum squirted from his tip. you muttered praises under your breath that were loud enough for him to hear and rubbed his thighs to soothe him. a stream of incoherent words and your name fell from his mouth as he rode his climax, his body convulsing like you’ve never seen before. 

“you did so good..” you coo before you wiped your hands with a towel and undid his gag, along with his restraints. he looked at you with his pretty dazed eyes, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he weakly wrapped his arms around your waist in contentment. 

[yawnderu]

Punished — Miguel O'Hara x Reader

I need him carnally.

cw: angry Miguel, hatefucking, anal, deep penetration, p in v penetration, face slapping, spit as lube, fingering, vaginal to anal to vaginal, creampie, belly bulge.

"Puta madre. You were real close to disrupting a canon event." If his voice didn't make it clear just how angry he was, the way he held your knees to your chest as he fucked into you did, his suit disengaged enough only for his cock to be out.

"I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"No excuses." His tone was harsh, matching his thrusts as he pushed your body to its limits. His eyes closed as he hissed softly, nose scrunched up as your cunt swallowed him up entirely, sucking him in so tightly he could barely move inside you.

"Does me angrily fucking you like a bitch turn you on this much?" The only times you saw Miguel "smile" was when he was being sarcastic or a jerk, like right now. He knows just how much you're enjoying it, he can feel your juices drip down his balls as he slams into you, the squelching sounds filling his office as he rammed inside, his hand coming up just to slap you in the face before he went back to holding the back of your thighs.

"S-slow down, fuck..." You pleaded uselessly, knowing nothing was going to stop Miguel until he was done destroying your cunt. Yes, you made a mistake, yet that mistake could have disrupted a canon event. Miguel had to find a way to punish you, and this seemed like the perfect way to show you just how stupid your mistake was.

"These are your consequences, perrita." He said with a sarcastic smirk on his lips, his hand coming down to rub your clit as his dick kept going in and out of you. He pulled himself out just to ram himself all the way back inside, making you cry out in both pain and pleasure. He gripped the back of your thighs, keeping himself all the way inside your dripping cunt as he groaned, enjoying the way you're completely swallowing him up. He's loving seeing his cock dissappear inside you, just to see the faint outline of it on your tummy as he moves in and out.

"Estoy muy viejo para esta mierda." He muttered softly, pulling himself out of you as he slapped your cunt with the tip of his dick. With the way he was holding you, something else seemed really tempting. Testing the waters, he wets the tip of his dick with your grool, rubbing himself up and down your pussy before he lined up his dick to your asshole, pushing in with surprising gentleness.

"Miguel—" You tried to protest, tears rimming your eyes at the feeling of his fat cock starting to stretch your ass.

"Cállate." He said, though his words didn't have any bite to them for the first time. Miguel was way too focused on your good your ass felt, so tight and warm he had to resist the urge to cum, feeling his balls tighten slightly. He hissed as he was able to get the tip inside, spitting into your ass to coat his dick and use that as lube.

"Dios mío..." He growled out, his eyes closing as he bottomed out inside your ass. Miguel's cock never felt this good. He gave you time to get used to the stretch before he started moving slowly, feeling your tight hole swallow him up as he began speeding up, his meaty thighs slapping against your plump ass as his hands grabbed your hips, using your own body to fuck into you.

"This is what you wanted all along, isn't it, mutt?" He asked teasingly between clenched teeth, his fangs coming out as his groans got louder. He was able to slam himself into you once your ass was able to get used to his massive shaft.

"Fuck... yes, Miggy." You bite your lip, moaning as his cock kept hitting every single sensitive bundle of nerves inside your ass. Your pussy was dripping wet, arousal slipping down to your ass as a circle of cream started forming on the base of his shaft, making him let out an amused chuckle. Two of his fingers came down to your cunt, teasing the entrance before they went inside you, making scissoring motions as he fucked your ass. He could feel his dick with his fingers, the thin layer of flesh barely separating the holes, yet it made it all more exciting.

"Good fucking girl." He praised between throaty groans, his fingers doing God's work inside your pussy as his free hand held your thigh, slamming into you deeper and faster. He was close, yet he didn't want to waste his cum in your ass. No, that'd be horrible. He kept pounding your abused hole, hissing as a he shoved himself all the way inside before pulling out, his free hand rubbing your clit as he slammed himself back into your cunt in one go.

"Fuck, fuck—" his hips stuttered as he sloppily thrashed inside you, pushing himself all the way inside before he filled you up with a loud groan. "Yes, yes, take it..." He growled out, completely pussy-drunk as he kept getting milked by your tight cunt.

[silverisfuzzy]

Make Them Hear Us - NSFW

i wrote this a long time ago and i dont remember if i wrote it well but i dont feel like fixing it so you get what you get,,, anyway

miguel o'hara x reader (+18)

interact on ao3 too if ya wanna :)

warnings: masturbation, dick riding, still dont know if this counts as voyeurism, biting, miguel uses his talons, belly bulge, mildly desperate reader, miguel whimpers, no use of y/n

MINORS DNI !!!

Miguel has always been so sweet to you, he took such care in making sure you were loved. Of course, this behavior translated to bed just as much and while the sex was amazing, you knew he was holding back on you. You have tried sending a message to get him riled up, making him jealous, or wearing all kinds of lingerie but nothing changed. You were starting to get desperate, which brought you to tonight.

You were reading in bed waiting for Miguel to come home when you heard noises coming from the other side of the wall in the apartment next door. A loud bang rang against the wall followed by loud moaning. You groaned, trying to tune it out but that became impossible when the banging on the wall started to quicken into a rhythm while the moaning and screaming grew louder. Setting down your book, you sighed lifting up Miguel’s shirt that you were wearing, and slipped your hand past your underwear. You slid your fingers through your folds, sighing as your wetness grew. You pressed your fingers against your clit, rubbing in circles as you laid your head back. Listening to your neighbors moaning, you dipped your fingers into your heat, thinking about Miguel fucking you as hard as your neighbors were. Focusing solely on your pleasure, writhing and moaning under your own touch imagining that it was Miguel, you failed to hear the keys unlocking the apartment door. It was not until heavy footsteps entered the room that you opened your unknowingly closed eyes, that you nearly jumped out of your skin. 

You quickly pulled your hand from your underwear, sitting up on the edge of the bed tugging the oversized shirt over your lap, “Miguel! I didn’t hear you come in, I’m sorry… Uhm, h-how was your day?”

The silence was almost deafening if your neighbors weren’t still screaming on the other side of the wall. He walked over, caging you between his arms on the bed, and whispered in your ear, “Why did you stop?” Your breath shook as you stayed silent, “You’re listening to them, aren’t you?”

Your breath hitched as he pressed his lips to yours. He held your face as you kissed him back holding on to his forearms, licking your way into his mouth. Miguel sighed against your lips as the kiss grew messy, he moved his hands back to the bed nudging you to lay down. Pressing his body to yours feeling him hard against your thigh as he crawled over you. Your hips shot up aching for friction, his hand moved to your hip to hold you down, and you whined against his lips. Miguel pulled away, trailing kisses from your jaw to the crook of your neck, feeling his breath and fangs brush your skin. You had dreams about him sinking those sharp teeth into you.

Your hands traveled down to the back of his shirt pushing it up and softly dragging your nails across his skin. He groaned and sat up to pull his shirt over his head, you stared per usual, it was impossible not to. His broad shoulders were just begging to have your nails digging into them as you rode him. You were pulled out of your trance as a bang was heard across the wall and the moaning somehow became louder.

You caught Miguel’s gaze as a smirk spread across your face, “You want to try being louder?” He laughed and leaned in close to you again.

“Let’s give them what we got,” he purred, sliding his hand between your legs, brushing over the fabric of your underwear slick from your arousal. “ Para quien es esto? ” he hums, pushing aside the fabric and slipping a finger into your heat.

Your mouth hung open, his finger stretching you farther than your own. Miguel slowly pumped into you and you felt like you would lose your mind when he slipped a second past your lips. You moaned loudly when he picked up the pace and pressed his thumb to your clit, circling in rhythm with his fingers.

“Oh fuck,” you cursed, head thrown back and hands gripping the blankets, your chest swelled as a knot began to tighten deep in your core. Miguel sensed this, curling his fingers to hit that sweet spot deep within you to draw out your orgasm. Your hand flew to his hair, “Fuck, Miguel, I’m close,” panting as the sound of your slick began to become more apparent. Miguel watched your face intently, shortening his movements deep inside you keeping the pressure on his fingertips. “ Muérdame ,” you begged, tugging his hair.

“What?” his hand slowed and you whimpered from the lost sensation as your orgasm wavered.

“Bite me, Miguel, fuck please please please,” pleading as you pulled his face towards your neck. You felt his heavy breath before he closed the distance from your skin, his hand’s pace quickened once again as he sunk his teeth into you. The combination of his fingers and the piercing sensation was enough for the knot in your core to finally snap. You leaned your head against Miguel’s, moaning loudly into his ear as you rutted against his hand. You groaned as he removed his teeth from you, kissing and licking over the wound, you released your grip on the blanket to hold his face close. His pupils were blown, “Fuck, thank you, Miguel,” you smiled, pushing the hair from his forehead, “I wanted you to do that for so long.” Miguel surged forward to capture your lips, you moaned into his mouth as he removed his fingers from between your legs. He sat up sucking your slick from his fingers, you sat in disbelief at the sight, before he reached for his pants and pushed them off. In the midst, you take off your underwear and are about to remove your shirt when Miguel stops you.

“ Déjalo , I love seeing you in my clothes,” he hums, running his hand up between your breasts before settling back down on your waist as he leans forward to gently suck and bite the skin on your neck without his fangs. He positions himself at your entrance, the neighbors are still moaning and banging against the wall as Miguel looks you in the eye, “Are you ready?” he asks and you nod before he slowly pushes into you. You’ve had sex plenty of times since you’ve gotten together and you are never used to how ungodly he stretched you out. Your mouth hangs open, broken moans spilling from your throat. Miguel’s breath hitches as he glides in easily, not making a sound until he is flush with you. Moaning against your neck as he is fully seated but still patiently waiting for you to adjust to his girth. As much as you loved how careful he was with you, you desperately needed him to use your body however he pleased.

“God, Miguel, I need you to move! Fuck me until I can’t walk anymore, you don’t need to be gentle with me,” you moaned.

“Are you sure?” He groaned, breathing heavily. 

“Yes, Miguel! Fuck, I need you so bad. Fuck me, Miguel, fuck m-” Miguel quickly sat up, gripping your waist, pulling back, and slamming into you. You yelp from the sudden movement, the both of you are moaning as Miguel sets a quick pace, thrusting deep into you. He groaned as he watched where you connected, the sound of skin slapping gaining volume.

Miguel held your waist tightly, enough to leave bruises later, and pinned you down to the bed as your hands scrambled to tangle themselves into the bedsheets. The force from his thrusts rocked the headboard sharply against the wall, a battle raging with the couple next door. Miguel released his grip, leaning over you to capture your hands in his, entangling your fingers and trapping them next to your head. You dug your heels into the small of his back to keep yourself grounded as Miguel shifted his hips to hit your spot directly. You could have sworn that you saw God for a moment. 

“Take me how you want, papi ,” you beg, so fucked out and desperate that you do not even realize that your bodies have now been flipped over leaving you straddling Miguel’s hips. Taking advantage of the position, you pin his hands against the sheets as you lift your hips, feeling the thick veins slide along your walls. Miguel stared up at you, his jaw slack, and tightened his grip on your hands as you dropped yourself back onto his cock. The motion was quick to punch a strung-out moan from both of your mouths. You sat up and leaned back, releasing your hold on his hands, and placed them against Miguel’s thighs behind you, lifting your hips and dropping them once again. This time hitting your spot sharply, you practically screamed as your head fell back and your legs trembled. He groaned as his hands flew to your thighs, guiding your hips onto his cock. You felt his talons stick out slightly poking into your skin, drawing a bit of blood but not deep enough to shred your legs. They kept you tied to his grasp, unable to escape the harsh rhythm that he set forth. You felt him deep, not realizing how far until one of Miguel’s hands glided over the lower part of your stomach. It took all of your strength to lift your head and stare down at where his hand pressed, your heart pangs heavily in your chest as you notice the skin bulge out in rhythm with Miguel’s hips.

“Oh fuck, Miguel, you’re so deep,” you gasp, dropping your hips harder, the squelching, slapping of skin, and loud moaning filling your apartment. There is a faint knock against the wall behind Miguel’s head and somewhere in the back of your fucked out brain you realize that the neighbors have been quiet for a while. The thought left your mind as quickly as it entered when Miguel pulled you to his chest, pinning your hands behind your back, planting his feet, and fucked up into you at a blinding pace. Your voice was beginning to crack and break, small gasping sounds were the only thing making it out of your tightened throat. At this angle, Miguel was slamming into your spot head-on, your fingernails dug into your palm and you mouthed at the crook of his neck as your orgasm neared. After a couple more harsh thrusts, the heat in your core erupted sending you to let out a final yell against Miguel’s skin. Your walls clenched involuntarily around his cock as he continued to pound into you.

“Shit. Fuck.” Miguel groaned, pressing his head back against the mattress, “You feel so good.” His voice eventually dissolves into short breathy whimpers as his hips begin to stutter, releasing his hold on your hands to grip your hips. You bring your hands up to hold Miguel’s face between your palms, planting your lips on his, moaning into each other.

You pull away from him, speaking against his lips, “Cum for me, Miguel.” The words are barely out of your mouth when you feel a warmth spill into you and Miguel is moaning across your face. He thrusts slowly through his orgasm as you both try to catch your breath. Your legs are trembling from the overstimulation while you are lifting yourself off of Miguel to collapse on the bed next to him. You shutter slightly feeling the cum drip out of you, you hum as you reach your hand between your legs to coat your finger in the substance. You turn your head to look at Miguel, bringing your hand up to your mouth and wrapping your lips around your cum coated finger. It was hard to decipher his emotion after an orgasm but the slight widening and dilating of his eyes said enough to warm your chest. You chuckle softly and speak with a raspy voice, your throat officially giving up for the time being, “So do you think we won?”

[yanaleese]

Meet Karma, your new Yandere boyfriend!

Originally from El Salvador, Karma was born into the Sangre family - a line of totally innocent people who have no infamous connections whatsoever! He is the eldest out of his five brothers, and enjoys playing regular sports, including some...questionable ones.

However since that terrible, unfortunate day - things have never been quite the same. Now isolated and alone in an apartment somewhere in North Carolina, Karma has a new goal in mind: To never ever befriend a fucking vampire human ever again!

It's simple. All he has to do is (1) offer his black-hat hacking services on some shady websites, (2) steal some shockingly juicy government and state files (3) blackmail a few higher-ups and (4) use that gossip money to fund his exercise and gaming equipment by delivery-

Oh. Wait. Delivery?

"Puchica!" Karma cursed in his head, his fangs momentarily grazing his lip . He must've have fallen asleep a couple hours after working overtime. Brushing his bangs, he fully covered the bags under his eyes, before staring into the door's peephole, revealing your presence.

And there you were, impatiently tapping your feet in annoyance. As the minute hand kept ticking, your face gradually became distressed, your cheeks revealing your bloodshot eyes. You wanted sleep, and you wanted it now. After all the setbacks and inconveniences on your busy shift, this was your last delivery - and you were not going to let this customer shit on your parade.

As the door began to creek open, you flashed a plastic grin whilst waving the delivery in his face.

"This your delivery, Sir?"

Karma nodded, giving a genuine smile back, pen in hand. Your eyes almost bulged out of its eye sockets. You felt yourself bit your lip hard, causing it to bleed. Lowering your gaze, you prayed that your beating heart didn't combust into a malfunctioning, bumbling mess.

In your head all you could think about what was one thing, and one thing only.

Holllllllllllly shit. Those FUCKING T I T S -

"Cool. Just sign here, and you got yourself a present."

You heard a low chuckle out of him, causing a slight blush to form on your face. You cursed under your breath, trying to keep it together. Karma's eyes twinkled with amusement, loving the professional façade you retained on your already tired face. However, if you looked closely, you could see a hint of worry flash on his face as he saw you have a nosebleed, along with a bloody lip.

Noticing his concern, you wiped the blood of your nostrils. "Oh Sir I am so sorry-"

Without even waiting on your apology, he returned with a bundle of paper towels in his scarred, parched hands. Embarrassed, you mouthed a million apologies before shyly requesting for him to sign the blood-stained paper.

"Once again I am so sorry-"

"Don't be."

You nodded, avoiding his gaze. As he finished signing everything off, you lowered your polyester cap, your name beautifully sewn in cursive at the top - just like your shirt. Scarlet strands of hair shifted as he tilted his head, his eyes engraving your name into his head. That way, he could run a background check later.

As you hurriedly walked away, he glanced at the fresh droplets along the ivory paper before revealing a wide range of pearly, sharp teeth.

"Ah mierda..." He bit his finger, Karma's tongue salivating. Feeling the heat growing in his cheeks, he became dazed, as thoughts of you began to fill the crevices of his mind. "No puedo esperar para devorarte entero, [Y/N] ♡ ~"

--------------------Alternate versions---------------------

If you are interested in more of his lore, my inbox is open (lol)

and yes, the bulge was intentional 🥰

[warping-realities]

Dalton Academy - Consuming Rage

Jaime was in a modest kitchen, a strong wind was blowing outside, lashing the walls, but he knew he was safe inside, smelling the familiar smell of sugar and cinnamon that reminded him of someone, someone he knew, someone who was important to him. Someone who he hadn't seen for a long time. And so he knew he could only be dreaming.

"Hola mijo..."

"¿Abuela? ¿Donde estamos? ¿Qué está pasando?"

"No tenemos mucho tiempo Jaime cariño. Siempre fuiste mi pequeño rayo de sol, tan brillante, capaz de iluminar el mundo entero...

...todavía...

.... este lugar en el que estás no es para ti...

...él cambia a todos....

...sal de ahí Jaime...

...este lugar te chupará la luz... te apagará...

...este es un lugar de depredadores...

...y en él sólo hay lugar para ellos...

...sal de ahí Jaime...

...antes de que tu luz se apague...

....antes de que te quedes atrapado en la oscuridad....

...con ellos....

...como ellos..."

The scene changed, he was no longer in his childhood home, but in front of the entrance to a cave where that same wind was blowing, stirring his clothes and hair. He was standing still, unable to move. Next to him were a bunch of puppies, three of them playing and a fourth sleeping by his leg. The mouth of the cave was dark and impenetrable and he couldn't stop staring at it. Until a figure slowly emerged from it, a creature, huge, covered in fur, eyes with a predatory gleam and fangs in a long snout, fangs that seemed almost to smile. The wolf stopped at the entrance to the cave and lay down, staring at him and the cubs with those bright eyes. Until one of them defiantly approached the cave and its occupant.

Jaime wanted to yell at him to stop so he wouldn't go. But he went. Before going back to where he had come from the wolf looked back towards Jaime and the other puppies, who were no longer playing.

Everything was silent for a moment, even the wind seemed to stop... until the yelps started.

The cubs scattered in all directions, and the same instinct to flee took hold of him, but he was still paralyzed, incapable of any movement and remained so until the yelps were drowned out by a howl, loud and aggressive that made his blood run cold. But not as much as what came next, the pup's yelps slowly becoming a howl of their own, just as loud and aggressive as the other, until both combined in unison with the rising wind noise. So loud that he didn't even realize that his own screams had joined that sinister melody.

….

"Michael, no, Michael..."

"Sanchez wake up... Sanchez!"

"Ngh... agh..."

"Sanchez! Jaime! Wake up man!"

Jaime opened his eyes, it was the middle of the night, he was lying on his bed, with the sheets turned over and his body drenched in sweat.

"Are you okay, man?"

Asked Jacob Miller, his roommate.

"I… yeah… it was just a nightmare."

"It must have been a bad one...so who is Michael?"

"Michael?"

"Yeah, you kept mentioning that name."

"I…I don't know…a friend…maybe?"

But Jaime didn't have any friends by that name. Not that he remembered.

But then why did thinking about that name bring him a strange feeling of emptiness, he thought as he listened to the rumble of his colleague's breathing in the bed next to him.

….

"Did you hear that Sanchez wet his bed yesterday?"

"Why would I care about that, Mike?"

"Because from what you told me he..."

"Not here, let's have this conversation at the club later."

It was the end of PE class and Chad and Mike were in the locker room getting changed for next period. Surrounded by classmates and the gossip that had spread through the school like fire through dry straw.

"Besides, people are making too much of what happened, as far as I know he just had a bad dream."

Chad continued as he took off his sweat-soaked training shirt.

"But what if this is a sign or ..."

"Michael!"

"Sorry, we'll leave it for later, you're right."

"And when I'm not correct?"

"Asshole"

"What happened to the King of Cleverness, Big Mike?"

"He befriended a fucking asshole."

Mike responded laughing at the inside joke and being accompanied by Chad.

"Like I said, let's talk about this later, when we're alone. Until then, we have other matters to deal with. Are you prepared to do what I instructed you to do?"

"Yes, but I don't understand how that can be possible."

"I already told you, wait and see... trust me."

"Well, I don't think I have any other choice, do I?"

"Not if you want to expand our little brotherhood with the right men."

"Edward Chang is not exactly my definition of a man, right or wrong."

Answered Mike looking at the thin young man sitting on a bench, looking extremely out of place in that environment and probably waiting for everyone to leave to change.

"What you need to understand is that he doesn't need to fit your or my definition of right, not now, aniway. Right now what our colleague needs is someone to help him fit that definition. And no one better than we to do that"

"I still don't understand how that could be possible."

"Don't make me repeat myself, Mike, you'll soon understand. Edward Chang is about to receive an upgrade and you'll be the one to deliver it."

….

To say that Edward's life in Dalton was bad would be a giant understatement. The naturally shy boy had by no means managed to find his place at school. Though every now and then he got the feeling that things should be different. But then he would shake his head and think why would they be different? All his life he had difficulty making connections due to his shyness, or as his father was fond of reminding him, his cowardice. His father could hardly believe it when Chadwick Hartfield Sr. informed him that there was a vacancy for Edward at Dalton. And this one in turn was forced to abandon the few friends he had at the old school to live with Chadwick son and his minion Michael Jones.

To be fair, none of them pestered him even once, in fact it was as if he didn't exist to them, until that morning at least. As people tended to ignore Edward's presence, sometimes even forgetting that the boy was present, he went through many situations unnoticed, which allowed him to see much more about others than others about him. And while he was waiting for the school locker room to empty so he could change without exposing himself, he couldn't help noticing that Chadwick and Michael's gazes were directed more often than usual in his direction, accompanied by that arrogant smile that both shared and that made a shiver ran down Edward's spine. He suspected that nothing good could come of it. He just didn't know he was about to find out how much.

….

"Is this seat vacant?"

Asked a bass voice, sending a shiver down Edward’s spine, who at that moment was sitting at his desk and looked up to stare at the imposing figure of Michael Jones.

What does he want with me??? It was the first thought to run through Edward's mind. He had already suffered his fair share of bullying and assaults and he knew that someone like Michael was a risk. But at the same time, looking closely for the first time into the other boy's brown eyes he felt a sense of familiarity, as if for some reason he could trust Michael, which of course was utterly absurd and...

"Dude, is everything okay? Can I sit here or not?"

"Ahn, y-yeas, there's nobody sitting there."

"Great, I believe we haven't been introduced yet, I'm Michael Jones, but everyone calls me Big Mike."

Said Michael sitting next to Edward who remained silent, not knowing what to say.

"Usually at that point the other person introduces himself."

Michael continued.

"Ahn, ahhh...yes...I'm Edward...Edward Chang."

"Edward Chang? Son of Emett Chang's ? Owner of Red Panda?"

"Y-yes...but how do you know that?"

"Well it's one of the biggest oriental fast food chains in the country, anyone with an interest in finance would know that. You must be very proud of that, no?"

Once again not knowing what to say, Edward chose to remain silent. Which this time seemed to bother Michael.

"Is there something wrong with me, Eddie? Maybe I'm not good enough for a millionaire's son to spare his attention?"

He spoke with an air of someone who thinks he's good enough for anything.

"I... no... it's not that... it's just..."

"Hey Chang, is this idiot bothering you?"

Interrupted a thin boy with black hair sitting at a desk a few seats away.

"Who are you calling an idiot, Roberts?"

Asked Mike getting up and turning towards his colleague, looking like a giant standing in the middle of the room before concluding

"Mind your own business Roberts it's all right between Eddie and me. And if you call me an idiot again I'll come over there and rip your skinny ass."

For Edward that was a frightening scene, never in his life would he have the ability to stand up and make threats like that, of course he wasn't a behemoth like Michael...

"I'm not talking to you Jones. Is this idiot bothering you, Edward?”

Repeated Jonathan Roberts, Edward’s roomate, in a display of defiance and courage that Edward knew he himself would never be capable of. It was easy to be aggressive and confident when you were the size of Michael Jones, but Jonathan was the same size as Edward and he still managed to hold his own. Edward knew what his father would say about that and it made him deeply saddened.

"You little shit, I'm going to finish you off!"

Michael said making mention of complying with the commitment.

"No, no need... I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You can sit here next to me Chang, you don't have to put up with that one."

Edward felt an urge to do just that. Something told him to do this. He disliked Michael and feared him, the other boy was too reminiscent of some of the former classmates who had hounded and humiliated him over the years. And precisely because of that, and because he was the avoidant of confrontation that he was, Edward decided not to follow his intuition and stay where he was.

"Yes, I'm fine, really."

"Well, it's up to you, but..."

“Stop being a pain in the ass Roberts, pick someone else to be your social project this time, Chang already said that everything is fine."

Mike said, sitting down again.

"Asshole, just because he's a senator's son, he thinks he might be some kind of social justice beacon. He came after me the first few days of school, thinking I might be some little project of his, but he was wrong. I know what I'm getting at and it won't be through his charity. Which brings us back to our conversation. It seemed to me for a moment that you didn't want to talk to me Chang. But now you've chosen to side with me. If the problem isn't me then what is ?"

Well, he was part of the problem, since Edward really didn't like him and felt scared in his presence, but precisely because of that he wouldn't do anything to displease his colleague. So he decided to be honest and say what in fact had always been his biggest problem.

"It's... that... I... it's... very difficult for me... to interact with others. Not after I know the person... but to start conversations... to impose my presence. I ... I just can't take the initial step. My dad thinks... he thinks I'm a wimp and a... a coward. That's it, it's not you but me... that... I just I am unable!"

"Well, it seems that with the right stimulus you can, after all you just did it. What you lack is a little... aggressiveness."

"I... I could never be aggressive... I'm a pacifist by nature."

"Come on man, all that genetic heritage, you're not going to tell me you've never tried some Kung Fu moves or something like that."

Completed Mike making a stereotypical move. Which for some reason triggered a flash of anger in Edward, a previously unknown feeling in him.

"Hey, not cool, man. I hate those kind of stereotypes, what would you say if I looked at you and started talking about Rap Music or basketball?"

He snapped in a firmer voice than he'd ever had before.

"Whoa, calm down brother. Apparently there's a spark of aggression in you after all."

Mike replied with that characteristic arrogant smile.

"And about your outraged statement. I don't care one bit if you think I like basketball just by looking at me, after all I might be a pro one day. And while I really appreciate the work the brothers of rap do, lately I've been trying to... refine my tastes."

"I…sorry…I've never acted like this before…I don't know what came over me."

"You don't have to apologize for everything Eddie, let alone expressing your opinion, I bet there's a lot of stuff stuck in there wanting to get out, a lot of pent up anger and aggression just begging to be tapped out and I think it's time for you to let it go.”

Once again all Edward did was stare at his colleague while analyzing his own emotions, that outburst was totally uncharacteristic, but he had to admit that at the same time it was... liberating. And digging inside himself he found exactly what his colleague had told him, not an amount, but a small knot of anger, indignation and aggression that he could have sworn had not been there before. But then again it should have been, just intentionally ignored by him, just as the others ignored him. And just thinking about it made that little knot expand.

"And there you go again, talk to me man."

"Will you shut up for a second?"

Edward exploded with irritation and a flash of red anger filling his vision. But instead of being offended Mike just widened the smile and returned:

"That's right, bro. Let it all out, but maybe this isn't the best place. Everyone's looking at you."

Which was true, Edward looked around and saw that he was being stared at by everyone, including the teacher who had just entered the room.

"Is there a problem Mister Chang?"

He asked, causing Edward to blush a shade of red as intense as his rage had been.

"No sir, I'm sorry"

He replied in a firm voice.

"I suggest you save your aggression for the courts or the mats, Mr. Chang."

"Yes sir."

Edward replied, while wondering what the fuck the professor was talking about. To then hear Mike whisper next to him:

"He's right, Eddie. It's time to put that aggression to work and I know the best way for you to do it."

"Yeah, in what way Jones?"

"Meet me at the gym after lunch."

Edward had never even set foot in a weight training gym, but he now really felt the need to blow off some steam, something that had also never happened before. Apparently today was a day of firsts for him.

"Fine."

He answered simply.

"That's my man! Eat a nice meal, loads of clean carbs and a nice steak, you'll need it."

"I'm a vegetarian!"

"Ha, the King of Char Siu Pork son a vegetarian? What a joke!"

"If you have a problem with that keep it to yourself, Jones."

He replied raising his voice.

"Calm down Eddie, we'll figure it out in the afternoon. I bet you'll find we have a lot more in common than you might think."

Concludes Mike with the brightest smile he's displayed so far.

….

At the end of classes Edward went to the school cafeteria with the biggest hunger he had ever felt in his life. As he was away from Michael for the rest of the morning the waves of anger stopped and he felt more like himself again, but the question he asked himself throughout the rest of the morning was whether he was really comfortable with being "himself," voiceless, without initiative, put down by others, including his own father... just thinking about it made him feel that pulsing energy again, coming from that unknown piece of himself that occupied a dark corner of his mind and seemed ready to expand if he gave the slightest opportunity. And as he avoided looking in that direction, he found himself invaded by another sensation, right in the middle of his belly, a hole, giant, growing bigger and bigger, a hunger that seemed want to consume him from the inside. In such a way that he was forced to act again against his habits and run to feed. He was one of the first to get in line to help himself. Dalton had an excellent team of nutritionists and cooks, capable of providing everything needed by the developing young men who attended the school. Edward had always been frugal in his eating, selecting a varied and moderate diet of vegetables, fruits and grains. But not that day. His plate was a smorgasbord of all of these in proportions that could feed three of him in an average day. But he was so hungry at that moment that he didn't mind, just as he didn't mind sitting isolated at a table as he usually did, sitting in the first empty place he found and starting to eat in large quantities the slop that formed on his plate at least until he was interrupted.

"My God Chang, I've seen pigs eat without doing so much damage."

Said a blond portly boy with a southern accent, sitting a few seats away.

"What?"

Edward asked in between mouthfuls"

"A pig, a fucking animal, like the ones my father slaughters."

"Mind your own business, Miller."

"Eating like a pig and now picking a fight with someone who might crush you. Not what I expected from you Chang."

Gregory Miller replied, taking a large piece of steak to his mouth.

Hearing and seeing that Edward found himself invaded by two unheard of desires for him, the one to punch his colleague in the face and the one to steal that piece of meat for him. But he was prevented from doing both by the arrival of a third student at the table.

"Okay, what's going on with you Chang? First that scene in class with the prince of jerks Michael Jones and now this?"

"What's happening is that it seems everyone has decided that today is the day to meddle in Edward Chang's life."

He replied, with the anger rising inside him and being directed towards Jonathan Roberts who will sit right in front of him.

"Come on Edward, you're not like that!"

"And how would you know that? We've only been studying together for two weeks, we're not friends, you ignored me for two weeks! All you know about me is nothing!"

"I... I... you're right of course, but can't you see, Michael Jones is trouble, even more so for someone like you!"

Hearing that made the anger inside Edward boil and boil over.

"Fuck off, Roberts. I can decide for myself what's a problem for me and what's not. And I'm getting out of here before I become a problem for you!"

He said getting up from the table, without looking back, leaving the two colleagues looking at each other with dumbfounded looks.

Edward walked through the cafeteria with firm steps seeing only a big red blur in front of him, and ready to go after the first one who dared to address him. With every step he took his uniform seemed to shrink, the tie around his neck was suffocating him, the sleeves of his jacket constricting his movements, his pants seemed glued to his thighs and his shoes seemed to be at least two sizes too small. He felt like an animal, trapped, tied up, huddled, ready to attack...

"Hey Eddie!"

A deep bass voice echoed through the room causing Edward to immediately turn, ready to attack.

"What?"

"Calm down man I just wanted to know if you want to sit with us."

Asked a smiling Mike Jones accompanied by a also smiling Chad Hartfield, who Edward would have judged as nice if he didn't know what an arrogant asshole he actually was. But Mike had been nice in his own way to Edward that day, so...

"Fine."

Edward replied, sitting down in front of the two of them and the biggest mountains of food he had ever seen, making the plate that he had made look small, a fact that was reinforced by the huge growl that his stomach released at that moment.

"Dude, I said you need to eat if you want to train seriously with me today."

"I ate more than I ever did in my life."

"Your belly seems to disagree..."

"If you'll excuse me a comment, a man needs meat to grow properly."

Chad interjected, popping a chunky piece of steak into his mouth.

"Apparently today really is the day for people to allow themselves to comment on my life decisions."

Claimed Edward, but with his eyes locked on his colleague's chewing. Something that both Chad and Michael did not fail to notice.

"Here, keep my plate, I'll pour myself another one."

Mike said getting up, taking off his jacket and pushing his plate towards Edward, who salivated at the sight of the miscellany of potatoes, rice, vegetables and meat, lots of delicious meat. Still he controlled himself and didn't pick up the fork.

"I was surprised when Mike told me that you decided to train with him today, in our meetings over the years I never thought you would like gym training, Edward. I would have asked you to train with me if I knew we shared that common interest."

"It's because we don't share, to be honest I don't even know why I accepted his invitation..."

"Really? I could swear you already have some training experience, the way your uniform is tight, it looks like you're wearing your little brother's clothes."

"They must have shrunk or something."

Edward replied, knowing that was not possible, as the uniform had been made from his exact measurements and had fitted perfectly in the morning.

"I didn't poison the food, you know? And I can guarantee you I don’t have a contagious disease neither."

Mike said with indignation in his voice, as he sat down at the table again with an even fuller plate than the previous one. Edward simply stared at him without answering, as was his custom, but this time the look he cast in his colleague's direction wasn't his typical shy and embarrassed look, but one of challenge.

"Okay, here, take this one."

Said Michael exchanging the new and untouched plate for his old plate. And taking a mouthful of that delicious looking food to his mouth, making Edward look away so he wasn't staring, which unfortunately made him face the new pile of food in front of him, looking just as delicious.

"What's the matter now?"

Mike asked with his mouth still half full.

"Manners, Michael. I think what Edward means by the silence and the defiant look is that he won't eat."

"Come on bro, if you don't eat it you won't grow."

"And who said I want to grow?”

"If you don't then why did you agree to go to the gym with me?"

"I don't know... to blow of steam I... I guess."

"And what steam will you have if you don't eat, dude? Eat!"

"I already ate!"

"Do you think a handful of vegetables will get you this?"

Mike teased, crossing his arms making his muscles bulge.

"You need meat, the more meat on your stomach, the more meat on your bones! Come on, you know you want it!"

Edward's instinct was to deny it, but the smell of the roast beef, the juiciness of the meat, next to the mashed potatoes felt like a calling. And the size of Mike's flexed arm was also, of another kind, but it was. He felt hunger, hunger for the food in front of him and a different kind of hunger he'd never felt before, something awakening inside him, a companion to the rage that expanded inside him and had grown claws that dug in his very being. But this was different, it was a well, dark and deep, it was hunger and thirst, it was desire. Desire to grow, desire to be a giant like Mike and Chad, and that desire shot through his body like lightning, strangely erotic, until it hit his cock, which instantly became erect.

"Eat, man"

Edward looked back at Mike, who had an encouraging smile and Chad who again seemed to drop his usual superior air, and shared a knowing smile with him. And he felt it all together, the excitement, the desire, the erection and the rage, the hot, searing rage, enveloping everything. He wanted to scream, he wanted to punch the colleagues who encouraged him to betray his principles, he wanted to go to his house and have a fight with his father, demonstrate to the old man that he wasn't a bloody coward. But he didn't do any of that, what he did was take a mouthful full of food to his mouth and chew. And he chewed, initially letting the taste of meat he hadn't consumed in years overwhelm his senses. The pleasure that the food gave him was added to the pleasure that deep well of desire brought him which almost made him cumm in his underwear right there, in the middle of the cafeteria, surrounded by his classmates. But nobody noticed. And he, who a few minutes ago would have been mortified by what happened, barely paid attention. Because a second mouthful followed the first and then many others, fast, full of food, in a frenzy, turning the plate of food in front of him into a kind of sickly porridge. Which Edward looked at with a startled look as he finally set his fork down beside his plate. Had he done that? Eaten all that? What the fuck was going on!?

"Here, drink it, it'll help all that food go down."

Chad said in a much friendlier tone than Edward remembered hearing from him as he handed him a box of milk, which he unthinkingly picked up and downed in one gulp, with milk dripping down his chin, mixing with the food remains that were there and falling on his uniform.

"Who knew you were such a pig, Chang!"

Mike commented with a cheerful mocking tone.

"Fuck off, Jones"

Edward replied, while he began to feel a strange bubbling sensation in his stomach that rose through his chest until...

Burrrp

"Such a pig, Chang! But I expected more from the Pork King's son. Something more like ….

Buuurrrp

"You guys are disgusting."

Chad commented, but with an appreciative smile.

"I'm sorry your majesty if the nouveau riche and the children of workers don't share your elegance."

"Shut up, Michael. I can't believe I'm going to do this..."

Said Chad, taking a second box of milk, emptying it under the watchful eyes of his two colleagues, without spilling a single drop of the contents on his impeccable uniform, returning it to the table and...

Buuurrrrrrrp

"That's how it's done, you assholes. Eddie may be the Pork Prince. But here at this table, I'm the king...."

Buuuuuurrrrrrrrrrp

Edward let out the biggest burp up to that moment, interrupting Chadwick's speech and making the two colleagues look in his direction and burst out laughing, in which he accompanied them for several seconds.

He didn't know why he did all that, none of it was natural, he had avoided meat for years and he was lactose intolerant!!! Although that explained the belching! A thought that renewed his laughter.

As that scene unfolded the colleagues at other tables watched, some with looks of disgust, others admired, others like Jonathan Roberts truly confused with no idea what was really going on there. And neither does Edward. The erotic feeling was gone, the rage was pulsing slowly, appeased and the well of desire was placid, sated by the hour. So was his belly, which was straining the buttons on his shirt and jacket. As he laughed, he felt a feeling he'd rarely felt before, a sense of belonging even though he knew he wasn't like Mike and Chad, that he didn't have their size, their strength, their courage... it made the waters in the well inside him stir as he realized that he really wanted this for himself, wanted to train with Mike and even wanted the company of Chad, which he had avoided for so many years.

"Damn, I really look like a pig."

He said as he wiped the laugh tears from his face.

"And definitely that uniform has shrunk, it looks like I'm all wrapped up."

"Let's do this, first we go to your dorm so you can change in your training clothes and then to ours so I can lend you spare uniforms. They'll be big on you, but that's good, it means you can grow in them."

Mike said, still smiling

"Thanks bro."

Edward replied, which further widened the other's smile.

"That's nothing, bro. Are you coming too?"

He concludes by looking at Chad.

"Go ahead, I'll meet you later at the gym, I won't miss this.”

………

Changing clothes was a bizarre experience. While taking off his shoes he didn't find the small, delicate feet he remembered but two big, smelly ones. Edward didn't have an explanation for that, although a little voice in the back of his head told him it was wrong. Strangely, with his rage asleep he didn't seem to be able to care. The same happened with his uniform, which even ripped when removed, exposing a defined physique. Which made Mike comment admired:

"Wow, man! I had no idea you were hiding the game. You'll have a much better starting point than I expected."

The truth is that Edward wasn't expecting that either, and looked at himself in the mirror.

As he admired himself that voice in the back of his head returned: that's not right you're not like that! Which in turn send a red flash inside his head, causing the rage to take over again.

"Why the astonished tone Mike? You thought I was some wimp, is that it?"

"No man, I'm just glad you have a good foundation to work on."

Edward accepted his colleague's explanation, as he looked for a pair of shorts, all concern with the changes in his body forgotten. His boxers were tight, but he would never take them off in front of another man. Before looking for a T-shirt he took another look at himself in the mirror. Damn, how had he never noticed he was hot?

Edward ended up opting for a tank top that his father had forced him to bring and that he thought he would never wear. But then came the biggest problem, none of his shoes seemed capable of supporting the size of his feet, what the hell was he going to do? That's when he saw Jonathan's closet and with a sly smile grabbed a pair of his roommate's sneakers. Under Mike's watchful eye and equally mischievous smile.

"I didn't think you'd be capable of something like this, Chang."

"I'll buy him a new pair, I'll have to buy new ones to myself anyway."

Edward replied as he slipped on his roomate size 11 sneakers which he thought would be a little big but in reality were a perfect fit. People tended to think that small feet were a feature of all Asians, well that wasn't the case for him, after all at 6 feet tall his base of support should be good.

"I wonder what that crybaby Roberts will say... probably something like: it's the principle of the thing that matters and not the material value!"

"I'll deal with Roberts later, I'm looking forward to getting back to training and I want to see if you're going to be a good training partner or if you are full of bulshit."

"Do you have the nerve to say that to someone my size, scrawny boy?"

"In a fight, size isn't everything, Big Mike."

"I thought you didn't fight... that it was a stereotype and blah blah blah..."

"You think I'm obligated to know how to fight Kung Fu is a stereotype. Which doesn't mean that I don't know how to fight and that what I fight is Kung Fu."

"And what is it then?"

"Soon you will find out."

Edward replied, as memories of hours and hours of training took up a permanent place in his mind where an annoying little voice once dwelt.

….

While the two kept their things in the locker room at the academy, Edwar voiced a question he had been dying to ask

"So what's it like sharing a dorm with Chad Hartfield?"

"I don't know man... He's cool, he asked me to join the Crows and everything. But you've known him all your life, not me."

"We haven't met that often...in fact before today I...well...I kind of avoided him, but now… Like you said, he's cool. I never imagined he was capable of doing what he did at lunch today, You know? Chill Out and just be one of the guys. He always gave me an air of arrogance and superiority...

"Perhaps if you had given yourself the opportunity to get to know him better... and besides, why would he be your superior? Your father is much richer than his."

"That's not how it works, Mike. My father may have more money, but the Hartfields are Old Money, they have a name, status."

"I know that, and you think Chad himself doesn't suffer from it? Do you think he can be the way he was with us today with anyone else? With everyone around him ready to judge him for stepping outside of what's expected? What did he do in front of you today, exposing himself like that he won't do with anyone else he doesn't consider a true friend and you can bet that at the tables next to us there were people in his circle judging him for doing what he did did and he will probably have to pay for it. But I'm actually glad we gave him the chance to be exactly what you said, one of the guys.

"I... I never thought there was more to him than... well... than the arrogant asshole who seems to have the world at his feet."

"Ah, but he really is an arrogant asshole who has the world at his feet."

Mike said bursting out laughing before continuing.

" And that's exactly what I admire about him, he's relentless, ambitious and knows his place in the world, but he's loyal to his friends. The kind of man I admire and want to be. In fact, today I saw some traces of that in you brother, I think you should explore them more."

Traces of that in him? Never! Edward thought, but at the same time he had stood up to Gregory and Jonathan and shared a laugh with Chad and Mike who were exactly that kind of people and there was still that anger boiling inside him... maybe he wasn't so different from Chad after all. ...

"So are we going to wait for him or what?"

"Nah, he catches up with us later, plus I want to see you demonstrate the crane move or whatever you call it."

Edward braced himself for another wave of rage, but this one didn't come, because to his complete astonishment, he ended up laughing.

"Dick."

That's what he managed to say between laughs to his new friend. As he felt his perception of the other change he realized that this is what Mike had become, a friend. A kind of friend he didn't think he could enjoy having so much. Mike didn't care much if he was going to offend someone or not, he said what he thought and if someone got offended… they will have to deal with it. And Edward...Eddie...realized he liked that, that freedom to say whatever he wants to say. There was no need to be offended, it was a silly joke, made in camaraderie.

"What? Want a taste of it?"

Answered his friend, holding his pouch and bursting into a laughter so genuinely that Eddie followed him again without a flash of anger. It seemed Mike and his ways appealed to that new corner of Eddie's personality in such a way that it would take more than a few jokes to rouse the abrasive waves of anger he was now familiar with. And Edward was fine with that, because if he could be honest with himself he was scared of what he was becoming. However, before that thought could gain strength, it was interrupted by Mike

"That's enough, otherwise we'll never train, I thought we'd lift some weights and then you show me some of your moves, no jokes this time, I really want to see what you're capable of, bro."

Said the other boy with his usual smile.

Eddie could have sworn he'd lifted weights before, he had the memories to prove it, didn't he? But as Mike guided him through the different machines and stations it felt like the first time. He would have given up if he didn't hate the idea of being seen as a weakling by his colleague. So every time that cowardly urge to stop took hold of him he gladly embraced the wave of red rage his brain sent throughout his body giving him the necessary strength to continue. Mike's encouragement helped too, ranging from jokes that eased Eddie's tension, teasing that fueled his anger, and praise that softened his ego.

They had opted for a full body workout. Starting with the work on the arms. But when he saw the weight of the dumbbells that his friend handed him, Eddie faltered.

"What? Those weights are supposed to warm you up brother! I thought you knew how to train..."

"Shut up Jones..."

He said taking the dumbbells and starting the exercise. And indeed, with each curl he did the weights felt lighter. So much so that at the end of the series Mike placed dumbbells in front of him with twice the weight, without saying anything, just staring at his friend with a challenging look. Edward in turn responded by picking up the weights and nearly dropping them. Which sent his anger shooting up, giving him the strength he needed to reposition himself and try again.

"Come on brother! I want at least 10 reps, no excuses."

He urged while positioning himself next to Eddie.

"... seven... let's go."

"Talking is easy..."

"...so don't talk man, do it!"

"... nine and ten! Two more let's go!"

"But you said ten..."

"And I thought you weren't a wimp."

Anger exploded inside Eddie.

"I will kill you!"

He said, while doing another curl

"You can try, but first make one more! And... twelve! Hell Yeah! Who's the man, you're the man!"

Mike spoke, as Eddie's anger dissipated, for the joy of having achieved it and for what seemed to be genuine joy in his friend's voice.

"Look at those arms man, you're exercising your constitutional right to own guns!"

And Eddie looked, he didn't remember his arms being that big, it must have been the pump,... although arms that big didn't grow overnight and... whatever... he flexed both arms, that it was so badass!

"Look at this!"

"Yeah, man! Come on, two more times and then triceps!"

After the triceps it was the turn of the shoulders, and the chest. Again Eddie was amazed at the weights that his friend put on him, only to him overcome them with ease and see them being doubled.

"...come on man, even my sister can bench press more than that."

"Shut...up...you piece of shit!"

"...ten, Man Up, dude! Eleven and... twelve! Well done Chang! Now legs! Let's turn those little chicken legs into something respectable!"

"I'll show you what those little chicken legs can do, dickhead"

"I really hope so, because at the moment I'm not impressed. Let's go there, barbell squats and deadlifts and then you can try to fulfill all your empty threats."

"....and twelve! Well done brother! Look at those quads and those calves! They belong to a real man and not a wimp!"

"Who are you calling a wimp, Jones??"

"Certainly not you, Chang!"

Said Mike extending his hand to a High Five that Eddie was delighted to reciprocate. Yeah, he was a real man, more than that, he was a god among lesser men, he thought as he admired himself in the middle of the gym.

"If you're done admiring yourself pretty boy, I think it's time for you to put yourself to the test on the mat."

"Are you sure about that, Big Mike? I'm not going to feel sorry for rubbing your face in the ground just for the pleasure of getting your annoying smile off."

"You might be surprised, Chang."

"Unless you train in some kind of martial art and haven't told me it's unlikely."

"Basketball has always been my sport, bro. I never trained in martial arts and kept off the streets. Still, I want to see you try take all this down."

Said Mike taking off his tank top and showing muscles definitely much bigger than Eddie's.

"I've told you before Mike, size isn't everything in a fight and besides I'm not that much smaller than you."

"In your dreams, scrawny boy!"

Mike retorted, leading his colleague to the mat in one of the multiple training rooms of the giant Dalton sports complex, taking off his sports shoes and socks and putting himself in a waiting position, while he waited for Eddie to do the same.

"Come on, show me all you've got... wimp."

Even though Eddie was no longer irritated by his friend's teasing, he let the anger overwhelm him, this was a fight after all and he didn't lie when he said he wanted to rip off his friend's arrogant smile. He then went all out on him, aiming a punch at the other's face. Who deflected it with one hand as he slapped Eddie lightly across the ear, as if he wasn't even worthy of receiving a real blow, which made his anger boil with indignation.

"That's all you've got, Chang? It’s pathetic!"

"You'll see who's pathetic, Jones."

Eddie replied, the red wave of anger involving everything around him as he applied a kick, once again deflected by his friend, who even took the opportunity to knock him to the ground.

"Like I said, pathetic Chang. I thought you knew how to fight."

"I know!"

Eddie responded by standing up and ripping his tank top off.

"Empty words, Chang. Maybe I was wrong, maybe you have nothing in common with me and Chad, maybe you're just a weakling."

Said Mike while dodging another punch given by Eddie knocking him to the ground.

"I'm not a weakling."

Eddie replied, repositioning himself.

"Then prove, prove that you don't belong there, on the ground, crawling around like a worm!"

"Ahhh...."

Eddie yelled, delivering a new blow only to see him dodged again.

"It seems you are nothing but a coward and a weakling."

Said Mike turning his back and giving the impression that he was going to leave the mat, his face and voice mixing with those of Eddie's father in the red mist of his conscience.

In the middle of it all Eddie launched himself on Mike, trapping his friend's neck in a powerful rear naked choke and then taking him to the ground and repositioning himself on top of him in a mount.

"Who's the weakling now? Huh? Who, Big Mike?"

Eddie asked, full of rage.

"Never turn your back on the enemy, bro. Who's the weakling?"

He repeated, seeming to grow in size, muscles pulsing and swelling. Holding tighter and tighter as his friend tried to free himself from that deadly grip.

"Don't even try to let go, I'm a black belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, you were right, the ground is where I belong. But I'm not crawling, I'm not a worm. No worm is my size."

And he was right of course, he was big by any standard of comparison, giant arms, powerful legs ending in huge feet and a chest bigger than a barrel, and contrary to every stereotype a huge dick and a couple of big balls. Which even motivated his next provocation.

"Hey Big Mike, tell me, how does it feel to have a real man's dick rubbed in your face?"

"Ungh..."

"I didn't understand, sorry, I don't speak weakling language"

"I give up, man I give up."

"Who is the king of the mat?"

"You you!"

"Great, next time save your opinions for the basketball court where it belongs, I'm in charge here!"

Eddie said, finally getting off his friend and letting him recover.

"Wow man, if I had known that I would never have accepted your invitation to train. You fooled me so well."

"I didn't fool anyone, you fooled yourself and I wonder how it ever crossed your mind you could win to all of this!"

Said Eddie showing off his powerful and huge physique to his friend.

"Come on brother, we're almost the same size, but I’m still bigger than you."

"I know, but I'm tired of telling you that size isn't everything in a fight. Even if I were a twig I could still take you out. Ask Chad, he's been following my fights since I started training."

"I know, I know. He told me that, I knew what I was getting myself into, but I still couldn't resist, a mistake I won't repeat. Man, I stink, I need to take a shower before next class."

"Me too...shit, now I'm really going to have to buy Roberts a new sneaker."

Eddie replied showing a torn tennis shoe to his friend, who once again burst out laughing.

"But what was the idea of getting such a small sneaker? How much do you wear anyway?"

"I wear a size 13 but I don't know what happened to my stuff, I think the staff sent my brother's clothes by mistake... so it was either Roberts sneakers or going barefoot but I could have sworn they fit right ."

"Well, now you're going to have to go barefoot anyway, dummy. I could have lent you a pair of mine, but I wear a size 15. Or you could have told Chad, he wears the same size as you ."

"I don't know man, I didn't mean to bother him."

"What are you talking about? You've known each other your whole life, you've been friends since childhood, of course he wouldn't mind! Why you would think that?!"

"Well, so far he hasn't asked me to join the Crows and... don't take this the wrong way, you're a cool and you're his roommate, but given our history I thought I'd be the first to be called."

"Assholes, both of you! Chad was worried because you hadn't asked him in yet, he thought you knew you were in without him needing to call."

"Fuck! I thought..."

"Clearly thinking is not your best asset, Chang"

"Want another demonstration of my best asset, Jones?"

"I'm good man, I'm good."

Mike responded by raising one hand in peace as he called someone with his cell phone in his other hand.

"Hey, dumbass. I thought you were going to come train with your best bros. Ah, an important matter came up...more important than us? We'll show you who matters most. Eddie and I will be waiting for you in the locker room, bring a pair of your shoes because the idiot forgot his. Oh, and bring along a formal letter inviting him to the Crows, because apparently for you rich kids if things are not done formally it has no validity."

"Asshole."

Eddie said, apparently at the same time Chad was saying the same thing to Mike on the phone.

"Oun, how beautiful is the harmony of childhood friends. A tear came to flow here."

He said pointing to his own dick. Though only Eddie could see it and burst out laughing once more.

"See you later Chad. We'll be waiting for you in the locker room, don't forget the shoes for Chang."

He ended it by hanging up the phone and looking at Eddie.

"Problems solved. Frankly, I don't know what you rich guys would do without me. Just don't expect me to wash your gorilla backs, Chang."

“Are you kidding Jones? I bet you'd love the chance to admire a real man."

"You better save your bets for my games or your fights, man. I know that you have a lot of money to spend, but it's better not to waste it on things that will never happen. Also, when I want to see a real man I just need to look in a mirror."

…..

"I thought you'd stick around to help me with Chang's transition."

"I went to make sure everything was going well with Sanchez."

"And?"

"Apparently that sort of thing is to be expected."

"Fine, not pretending I totally understand, but fine."

"Even I don't fully understand Mike. I've prepared my whole life for this and yet I've had surprises. That... clowning... at lunch today, I'm pretty sure I've never done anything like that in my life and yet it came naturally to me."

"I thought it was awesome, I used to have burping competitions all the time with my friends at my old school."

"Disgusting, Michael."

"You didn't seem to think so while you were doing it."

"Yes, and that's what's weirdest, I really enjoyed myself in an unexpected way. But that kind of thing can't happen anymore.”

"Man, letting go a little from time to time will not destroy our plans, on the contrary, I believe that was precisely the moment that secured Chang for us."

"Maybe... then how well did you do?"

"Soon you'll see, but I admit it was... strange, you saw the beginning, but then things accelerated and I... just went with the flow... as if the right words to get the result I wanted pop out of nowhere in my head and... it was bizarre... it was like turning him inside out... you should have seen it to understand."

"I believe I understand Mike."

"No man, there's no way you can understand, not without seeing it. There's no way to fully describe the transformation from a wizened boy to a mean muscle mountain."

"You'll have to trust me on that one. What about the rest?"

"Like I said, it was like he turned inside out, we might have issues with his aggression at some point, but to be honest I liked this new him, liked a lot. He's the type of guy I'd like to have by my side, a bit crude but really fun. And he seems to think of you as a dear childhood friend."

"Great, so now we just need to formalize the thing."

Well, there won't be a better time than now. He's just getting out of the shower.”

"You took your time Chang, I thought maybe you drowned or something."

Commented Chad with the giant totally naked in front of him.

"You should know how long it takes a man my size to wash up, Hartfield. And Jones hasn't even had a bath yet. What was it that the two of you had so important to talk about?"

"About you actually."

"Oh, and may I know what you had to say about me?"

"How my childhood friend could be so stupid as to think I wouldn't invite him to join my club."

"Well, you took your time too Chad."

"Only because I thought it was obvious that I wanted you there, Eddie."

"So I'm in, simple as that?"

"Simple as that brother, what won't be so simple is the task I have to give you, but I bet you'll still enjoy every moment of it."

[latinotiktok]

Propaganda:

Link BOTW/TOTK.

-Miralo. Short king. Builds possibly dangerous and random contraptions in his garage. Eats anything and everything. Cooks like a god. Good taste in seasonings. Rides a motorcycle. That's all peak latino behavior.

-link de the legend of zelda. es muy silly para mi y es latine en mi corazoncito <333

-link legend of zelda es mexicano. lo sé en mi corazón. fácilmente puedo verlo comiendo pan de muerto y haciendo el maratón guadalupe-reyes (comer hasta el hartazgo desde el 12 de diciembre hasta el 6 de enero)

-Link Legend of Zelda pq 1) en su vida pasada era moreno el me dijo 2)le sabe chambear como buen latinoamericano. trabajando para la hija del patron literal

-Link del twilight princess

Razones: -si -el pibe vive de cuidar las vacas(son cabras pero shhh), es gaucho en mi corazon -short king y conozco muchos short kings en mi pueblo -por favor

#link es mexicano porque o sea. nomás' mira sus creaciones. mi compa tiene ingenio mexicano

#DALE ZELDA DALE#PASAME LA TRIFUERZA QUE TENGO HAMBRE#Y TRAEME UNA BOTELLA DE ZORA GRANDE

#that one post that says link is the whole lgbt+ community but this time link is whole latin america#loz

#link is just such a latino hes indigenous latino and i say because im centroamericana that he's centroamericano.#guatemalan link#the only reason hes not moreno is he was sleeping for 100 years that makes one look like a gringito#his fangs and the way he finds new clothes and immediately wears them and mixes and matches and ALWAYS serves...peak latino behavior#we need more silent latino men rep 🥰

Pirateria

Vi a alguien decir que la piratería (as in, the concept) debe ser latino y apoyo la moción, so here i am to say la piratería es mi bebita fiu fiu

#nada en este mundo es mas latino q piratiando

#VAMONOS YO MANEJO *c sube a un barco pirata claramente robado*

#IT HAS TO BE PIRACY Y'ALL#brazilians pirate shit for breakfast at this point#and the best fucking part#was buying those pirated dvds#and at the very beggining of the movie#they'd show an anti-piracy ad#like dude please it's vote piracy

[pupsmailbox]

DEATH︰REAPER ID PACK

NAMES ⌇　abaddon. achlys. acrimony. adrienne. agnes. ajax. altar. ambrosia. angel. annika. apollo. ash. atticus. autopsesse. autopsette. autopsie. autopsy. azrael. bellona. blair. blaise. bones. brains. bram. cadaver. caddie. cain. carrion. casimir. casper. cassius. catalyst. catrina. charon. ciaran. claud. claude. claudia. coraline. cryonic. damion. dawn. deathe. deathesse. deathette. decease. demise. desdemona. desmodus. dolores. doom. draven. drow. edward. emeric. engel. ephraim. ether. ethereal. eve. exigent. fatesse. fatette. gareth. grave. graves. gravesse. grim. grime. grimes. grimesse. grimm. grimme. gwendolyn. hades. jesper. kilian. laud. lilith. lily. lola. lorelai. lucien. lucifer. lurk. macabre. maggot. magnus. mallory. mara. marie. marion. marionnette. martyrdom. mel. monody. morena. morgan. morganna. morgue. moribund. mort. morte. mortesse. morticia. mortimer. mortis. mortisse. mortuary. mortue. mortum. muer. murdock. myrtle. nikola. noire. noirette. nox. orpheus. perdita. perish. persephone. perseus. phantom. pierce. plague. plaguette. plaugesse. pluto. priscill. pyre. ran. reaper. reapesse. reapette. rhys. rigorre. rose. sacrifesse. scy. scythe. scythette. selene. seraph. sic. smierc. specter. thanatos. thorn. vacuous. valentine. vamp. vampyr. vendetta. vessel. victor. viktor. vincent. wounde. woundesse.

PRONOUNS ⌇　abyss/abyss. angel/angel. bite/bite. blade/blade. blood/blood. bo/bone. bone/bone. brain/brain. bur/burial. cad/cadaver. ci/cir. coffin/coffin. cor/corpse. crow/crow. dae/daem. dae/daemon. dea/death. dead/dead. death/death. decay/decay. dem/demise. die/dire. doom/doom. dust/dust. end/ending. fang/fang. fatality/fatality. fate/fatal. fog/fog. fright/fright. gho/ghost. ghoul/ghoul. gore/gore. grave/grave. grave/yard. graveyard/graveyard. gri/grief. grief/grief. grim/grim. guide/guided. holy/holy. hunt/hunt. ick/ick. kill/kill. leth/lethal. lo/loss. morbid/morbid. mort/mort. mortician/mortician. mourn/mourn. necro/necrom. night/night. omen/omen. pain/pain. para/paranormal. per/perish. plague/plague. reap/reap. reap/reaper. reaper/reaper. rebirth/rebirthed. rot/rot. rot/rotten. sacrifice/sacrifice. scy/sycthe. scythe/scythe. skull/skull. slay/slay. soul/soul. spec/spectral. suff/suffer. thy/thy. tomb/entombed. tomb/tomb. tragic/tragic. vamp/vamp. wilt/wilt. wound/wound. zomb/zomb. ☠️ . ⚰️ . ⛓️ . 👻 . 💀 . 🩸.

[miguel-ohara-lover]

Marking - Miguel x gn!Reader

Smth short and sweet

CW: biting, marking, praise in Spanish

Miguel absolutely loved marking you. Marking up your neck with little nicks of his fangs, sucking hickeys on all parts of your body. He loved making it known you were his. He didn’t care who could see them. In fact, he loved it. He loved knowing anyone that sees you would notice the marks all over your skin. They would know you were taken.

“Muy bien para mí cariño. Bueno... te amo mucho…” He groaned against your neck before latching on once more. He kissed and sucked at your soft skin, ensuring there was plenty of those perfect little purple-pink spots he loved leaving behind. Your noises were music to his ears, hearing your little gasps as he bit at your sensitive flesh, it drove him mad.

[moonbor-n]

Versión revisada:

Ling Wen dijo: "Este no es el final del evento. Después de la matanza del Guoshi Fang Xin en el Banquete Dorado, Lang Qianqiu lanzó una recompensa a nivel nacional por Fang Xin y pudo capturarlo vivo. Sujetó a Fang Xin a un ataúd con cuarenta y nueve clavos de madera de caoba para asegurarse de que nunca se abriera."

La escena ya era lo suficientemente dolorosa antes.

[potahun]

Mysterious Lotus Casebook and the Analogies to Being Queer

this is not breaking new grounds or anything, there seems to be broad consensus in the (tumblr) fandom that LHL is a lot about being queer. there is also this brilliant meta by @seventh-fantasy about the jianghu being a queer space, which i love, and which dealt with the gender perspective for li lianhua in particular

having that in mind, i want to say how much i love that li lianhua and fang duobing's stories feel like analogies to two different queer experiences

we see li xiangyi in a few flashbacks and in how others viewed him before the east sea battle 10 years ago. we know he became the n°1 swordsman in the world, established a para-judiciary system and order in an otherwise lawless jianghu, that he used to duel just to win the right to pick flowers from someone's garden as gifts for every single lady in the sigu sect, and that he dated qiao wanmian and intended to marry her (judging by that flashback where he's seen drinking with shan gudao and the boys)

a lot of it is very heteronormative, and even a bit performative. and i don't want to say it's not genuine, i actually rly like the idea that many of those actions felt perfectly real to him at the time, and i genuinely think he had that show-off streak in him when he was a teenager

but regardless, everything about li xiangyi follows the heteronormative expectations of society, including his achievements, which command, among other things, admiration for his fighting prowess and his ability to establish rules. which is of course, ironic, as pointed out in the meta referenced above, since the jianghu itself does not follow those rules (and we slowly learn in the story that there was criticism of him for this even in-story).

but then we get to li lianhua, who does not fight, but cooks, learned to sew, to plant flowers, turns down every lady who looks his way, and who does not interfere in jiang hu matters if he can help it. and in particular, we get the conversation he has with qiao wanmian in ep 18, where she confronts him about his identity and asks him:

"if you'd already come back, why did you never reunite with us?"

and his reply is:

"all of this is so far in the past, now. i'm very tired. i just want to be free."

li lianhua is constantly put in contrast with li xiangyi. where li xiangyi performs, li lianhua just exists in the jianghu. where li xiangyi fulfils expectations and surpasses them, li lianhua turns his back to expectations. where li xiangyi establishes a domain and protects, li lianhua wanders freely, all by himself. where li xiangyi conforms to heteronormative standards, li lianhua doesn't.

we know that li lianhua is an unreliable narrator in that his opinion on his own past is biased, his knowledge incomplete. and he lies. almost compulsively. but there are also truth bombs that he drops between the lies. i personally believe that his willingness to detach himself from all the expectations thrown upon him and to finally exist away from norms, is part of those truths.

and this is very close to a type of queer experience, where you come out of some event or another in your twenties, suddenly realise you're queer and oh my god, it's time to live differently. and you start rejecting the norms and maybe your old friends wonder what got into you.

in the same conversation in ep 18, the following exchange happens between li lianhua and qiao wanmian:

LLH: "when we met each other, I was young and ignorant. I didn't understand what the feelings i felt for you were, either." QWM: "what do you mean? are you saying... you never loved me?" LLH: "back then, we were young. nothing of what we said then can still count now."

it can be interpreted in different ways, but it sure fits a queer narrative extremely well. the feelings were real, but he didn't understand whether they were romantic or not, he just followed the norms. but things are different now.

enters fang duobing

fang duobing feels like a different queer narrative. by family background, fang duobing is a person who has equal ties to the imperial court as he does to the jiang hu. the emperor and his family wants to engage him to the princess of the court, a perfectly normal thing in the societal context he lives in, and a luck few can hope to have. what does he do?

flee

i often joke that fang duobing's sexuality is to be a detective on the jianghu, but it really does feel like that kind of narrative. fang duobing never has any doubt that his place is away from the rules of the imperial court. In ep. 1, he tells his servants:

don't worry. once your young master makes a name for himself as a renown detective on the jianghu, they {his parents} will understand that, compared to the imperial court, i am much more suited for the jiang hu.

and yes, this is about escaping the rigidity of the court as such, but it's also analogous for the freedom to be who you are, to be queer, to not conform.

and fang duobing never backtracks. his parents want him to conform, and they want him to have the comfort that comes with this lifestyle. he rejects it thoroughly and consistently.

it's also interesting that in ep 25, once they meet the princess and they have gone through a case together, fang duobing still rejects the idea of the wedding. when li lianhua tells him "the jianghu is a place full of grudges and sinister schemes. why not become a carefree consort prince?"

fang duobing only looks forlorn and retorts "li lianhua, can you never say that again, please?"

in contrast, though, he has no qualms planning his whole life on the jianghu with li lianhua in ep. 15. so this is not about settling down with someone.

it feels very close to being confidently queer and knowing it from a very early age, and then rejecting the heteronormative expectations thrown upon you with assurance.

...

anyway, so what i want to say is: li lianhua is a tired millenial who discovered he was queer in his mid-twenties after a mild depression; fang duobing is a gen-z baby queer who doesn't know his queer history but is so confidently queer and he's never looking back

[howlingday]

Un experimento en beacon (cortesía de material nuevo de atlas) sale mal y jaune termina varado en una remanet alterno, aún no se si la historia será sería o no

Ozpin y Salem: La historia es ligeramente distinta, salem no es parte grimm pero aún es inmortal, aquí todavía pasó la pelea pero en lugar de que todas sus hijas mueran pararon por un llanto de su hija más pequeña, posterior a esto hubo un tipo de tregua dónde se separaron pero se les permitió que sus hijas pasaran tiempo con ellos, rotando el tiempo unos dias pasaban con salem y otros con ozma básicamente fue el primer divorcio de la historia, siguen siendo inmortales pero a diferencia del canon no se molestaron en dejar todo a escondidas el mundo los conoce pero también están en un tipo de tregua fría razón de las últimas palabras de su hija menor quién murió de vieja. Salem cumplió su deseó de volverse una gobernante con delirios de dios gobernando una porción de vale, conservo su magia la cuál la gente la vera cómo una diosa, es estricta pero justa. Ozpin continua siendo el director de beacon y actual huésped de ozma la diferencia es que la posesión no es tan drástica como en el canon siendo mas un tipo de doble personalidad

Ruby: Los ojos plateados tienen las mismas características que el canon pero aquí su familia al saber que era un blanco la entrenó desde pequeña, es un poco más afligida que la ruby común al estar su posible esperanza de vida corta irónicamente esto la impulsa a tratar de establar relaciónes más cercanas, no le gusta dehecho las armas al saber lo fácil que se puede acabar una vida con esta y disfruta más las novelas de misterio y galletas saladas

Weiss: Su infancia fue igual de dura con el pero de que todo esó junto le dio un odio hacía su apellido al punto que no quiere saber nada, es la típica versión de bleiss siendo grosera, pervertída, y mala hablada, al igual de la weiss estándar no le agradaba su jaune pero si siente atraída por canon!Jaune, les gusta los animales más fierros y salvajes que tiernos y adorables, le gusta cantar metal y tiene una mejor relacion con si blake y es mucho más abierta con su equipo y no pierde la oportunidad de hacerles saber que les importa

Blake: El white fang era dehecho una organización militar de la gran guerra y con el final de tratar de limpiar el nombre de los faunos empezó a hacer podcast y canciones estás escalaron hasta hacerla una mini idol quien lleva su mensaje anti-racismo, cómo podran ver es un tipo de referencia a felicia esto surge porque a diferencia de la normal blake quién trata de pasar de desapercibido y tiene su temática de ninja emo, esta es mas directa y optimista, así como ser el centro de atención, su vestimenta es más parecida a los volúmenes recientes y le gusta dehecho novelas más románticas

Yang: Aquí las cosas no fueron muy distinta, su madre la abandonó, summer murió y tai quedo en depresión, sin embargo estuvo la idea de que ruby, lo que le quedaba de familia corría peligro, debido a esto se entrenó a una corta edad con la finalidad de mantenerla a salvó, posterior a éso se convirtió en su compañero de entrenamiento-maestro, es mucho más cabeza fría y estricta casi como otra winter, es mas reservada y casi tímida producto de su entrenamiento en solitario, en lugar de salir a un baile o bar prefiera una tarde jugando damas ysi bien su relación no es tan fuerte de manera afectiva con ruby aún se aman

Jaune: La familia arc es dehecho más influyentes aquí, similar los schnee hay un heredero por lo cual tienden a competir a edad temprana para ganarse su lugar, debido a esto su relación con sus hermanas no es la mejor viéndose más cómo rivales similar a weiss y su hermano, jaune es más fuerte porque tuvo entrenamiento real, es egocéntrico, orgulloso y mientras que jaune normal es un mejor estratega que impulsa a su equipo, a este no importa si salen heridos con la finalidad de ganar y es mas manipulador que inspirador, en lugar de ser un asmereir es muy respetado pero su equipo no lo aguanta pero no le importa creé que por ser el líder eso basta y prefiere desayunar fruta a cereal

Pyrrha: En lugar de ser la deportista justa y buena niña es una delincuente juvenil, es mas parecido a un malo genérico de WWC, si bien no a hecho trampa a sido descalificada en los torneos por su hitorial y brutalidad siendo apodada la "fall champion" es mucho más cruel, sádica y violenta, ironicamente no tiene problemas para que la gente se relacione con ella debido que su actitud de busca pleito atrae más a la gente hasta tiene un sequito proveniente de haven, odia extremadamente a su bastardo lider pero le cae mejor el del otro mundo y lo único que se arrepiente de su reputación es no poder ser la mascota de punkin pete

Ren y Nora: No hay mucho que decir su historia es la misma kuroyuri cayó y fueron los únicos que se salvaron. Nora quedó resentida con el mundo que le dio la espalda cuando era tan sólo una niña, es mucho mas sarcástica y cínica piensa, goth nora en si, es un tipo de tsundere demuestra su cariño siendo hostil hacía le gente que le importa como ren, prefiere los waffles y es la primera persona que salta y calmar las cosas cuando se descontrolan como cuando viene una aparente versión alterna de lu creído lider. Ren después de casi morir a una edad tan joven desarrollo un tipo de mentalidad de la vida se vive sólo una vez, disfrutade hacer ejercicio y públicarlo en las redes, broncearce, preparar y beber batidos de proteinas, le gusta resaltar y es algo inteprido rozando lo loco piensa en jonny cage mk, cuando vio otra versión de jaune quiso golpearlo en la cara porque asumió que era igual de bastardo

Esta es la típica historia dónde el personaje termina en un AU donde se encuentra con contrapartes de sus amigos, más allá de la idea en general no tengo nada planeado, aclaró que dehecho no eh visto mucho del show, me interesó en ver en un momento pero luego vino volumen 7 y 8 y le perdí, la mayor parte de mi conocimiento es fanfic y tumblr, si quieren ayudar o dar ideas lo agradeceré.

An experiment at Beacon (courtesy of new material from Atlas) goes wrong and Jaune ends up stranded in an alternate Remnant. I still don't know if the story will be or not.

Ozpin and Salem: The story is slightly different. Salem is not part of Grimm but she is still immortal. The fight still happened here but instead of all her daughters dying, they stopped because of her youngest daughter crying. After this, there was a sort of truce where they separated but they were allowed their daughters to spend time with them, rotating the time some days they spent with Salem and others with Ozma. Basically, it was the first divorce in history. They are still immortal, but unlike the canon, they did not bother leave to everything hidden. The world knows about them, but they are also in a type of cold truce due to the last words of their youngest daughter who died of old age. Salem fulfilled her desire to become a ruler with delusions of a god by ruling a portion of the valley. She kept her magic, which people would see as a goddess. She is strict but fair. Ozpin continues to be the director of Beacon and Ozma's current guest. The difference is that the possession is not as drastic as in canon, being more of a type of split personality.

Ruby: Silver eyes have the same characteristics as the canon, but here her family, knowing that she was a target, trained her since she was little. She is a little more distressed than the common Ruby as her possible life expectancy is short, ironically this drives her to try to establish closer relationships. She actually doesn't like guns because she knows how easy it can end a life with them and she enjoys mystery novels and crackers more. Weiss: Her childhood was just as hard on him, but all that together gave her a hatred for her last name to the point that she doesn't want to know anything. It's the typical version of Bleiss being rude, perverted, and bad-mouthed. Just like the Standard Weiss didn't like her Jaune, but she is attracted to Canon!Jaune. They like animals that are fiercer and wilder than tender and adorable, she likes to sing metal and has a better relationship with her Blake and is much more open with her team and don't miss the opportunity to let them know you care.

Blake: The White Fang was in fact a military organization of the great war and in order to try to clear the name of the Faunus, she started making podcasts and songs that escalated until she became a mini-idol who carries her anti-racism message. How could they see is a type of reference to Felicia this arises because unlike the normal Blake, who tries to go unnoticed and has her emo ninja theme, this one is more direct and optimistic, as well as being the center of attention, her clothing is more similar to recent volumes and actually likes more romantic novels.

Yang: Here things were not very different. Her mother abandoned her, Summer died, and Tai was left in a depression. However, there was the idea that Ruby, what was left of her family, was in danger, and because of this she trained at a young age. In order to keep her safe, after that she became her training partner-teacher, she is much more cool-headed and strict almost like another Winter. She is more reserved and almost shy as a result of her training alone. Instead of going out, she prefers an afternoon playing checkers to a dance or bar and although his relationship is not so strong emotionally with Ruby, they still love each other.

Jaune: The Arc family is in fact more influential here. Similar to the Schnee, there is an heir so they tend to compete at an early age to earn their place. Due to this, their relationship with their sisters is not the best, seeing themselves more as rivals, similar to Weiss and her brother. Jaune is stronger because he had real training, he is egocentric, proud, and while normal Jaune is a better strategist who drives his team, this one does not care if they get hurt in order to win and is more manipulative than inspiring. Instead of being an "asmereir", he is very respected but his team can't stand him, but he doesn't care. I think that being the leader is enough and he prefers to have fruit for breakfast instead of cereal.

Pyrrha: Instead of being the fair and good girl athlete, she is a juvenile delinquent. She is more similar to a generic bad guy from WWC, although she has not cheated, she has been disqualified in tournaments for her history and brutality, being nicknamed the "Fall Champion." She is much more cruel, sadistic and violent. Ironically, she has no problems getting people to relate to her because her quarrel-seeking attitude attracts people more, she even has an entourage from Haven, she extremely hates her bastard leader, but she likes the guy from the other world better and the only thing she regrets about her reputation is not being able to be Punkin Pete's mascot.

Ren and Nora: There is not much to say. Their story is that Kuroyuri herself fell and they were the only ones who were saved. Nora was resentful of the world that turned its back on her when she was just a child. She is much more sarcastic and cynical. She thinks, Goth Nora herself, she is a type of tsundere, she shows her affection by being hostile towards the people she cares about, like Ren. She prefers waffles and is the first person to jump in and calm things down when they get out of control, such as when an apparent alternate version of Lu, believed to be the leader, comes along. Ren, after almost dying at such a young age, developed a type of life-only-once mentality. He enjoys exercising and posting it on the networks, getting a tan, preparing and drinking protein shakes. He likes to stand out and is somewhat intrepid, bordering on crazy he thinks about Jonny Cage (Mortal Kombat), when he saw another version of jaune he wanted to punch him in the face because he thought he was just as bastard. This is the typical story where the character ends up in an AU where he meets counterparts of his friends, beyond the general idea I have nothing planned, he clarified that in fact I have not seen much of the show, I was interested in seeing at one point but then came volume 7 and 8 and I lost it, most of my knowledge is fanfic and tumblr, if you want to help or give ideas I will appreciate it.

----------

I had to split up the translation because Google says "It has too many characters~! 3900 is my limit~!" But, eh, I found a way. Clearly, I am superior in every way.

Enough joking around.

Salem and Ozpin being the world's first divorce isn't technically new, but it being one that ISN'T messy is pretty cool to me. Imagine they actually went the divorce route and it was still as messy as the show makes it out to be. It could probably be the reason Remnant doesn't have divorce, everyone fearing the same happening to their families.

Ruby being trained harder because she has silver eyes is very... Honestly, it's a very sad idea. She wasn't allowed to be a kid and basically was told from the start "You are going to die a horrible death UNLESS you train harder than anyone else". Her not liking guns is also pretty sad since this is such a stark contrast to her original character, but that's the point, though, isn't it? Her loving mystery over romance is a nice touch, though. Very distinct difference. I can see her inversely not taking a mystery seriously because she she's taking it too seriously like her books.

Weiss I'm seeing a bit of a mixed bag of characters. The first one that comes to mind is the Hinata from the Naruto Shippuden movie where Naruto and Sakura go to an inverse Konoha where Kiba hates dogs and wishes he was a cat, Sasuke is a playboy, and Hinata is a foul-mouthed promiscuous woman.

Blake being a pop-idol against racism is such an adorable concept. Although, what I'm thinking of now is that meme where a kid grows up watching a superhero say "Do not be racist" and agreeing and the next scene is that same superhero and the kid is now an adult, same message, and the adult screams that it's woke propaganda. Being a symbol of anti-racism will draw some unwanted attention, especially if you're a celebrity.

Yang actually doesn't sound all that different from her canon counterpart. The only difference I can see is that she's more cool, calm, collected, probably because of that "die a horrible death" thing I mentioned. Her choosing to not engage the party girl life for being a good role model for her sister shows she's very mature for her age.

Jaune is- Ooh! I already hate him! Having him trained from the start, like so many people complain about him AND then having him be basically like Weiss in V1 is such a fun thing to do! Like, I can already imagine the back and forth between Jaune and Jaune. It's a classic anime nemesis story, one being weaker but good of heart while the other is stronger but rotten to the core. I love this idea and I can't wait to see where you go with this!

Pyrrha being a delinquent is a... I won't say cute, even though it is. Also, I like that you slipped in that the cereal mascot is Punkin' Pete, which I'm imagining is a punk rock rabbit. Her being the "Fall Champion" is also a neat idea that I'd love to see explored. To be honest, I'm imagining delinquent Pyrrha made by FatallyObsessed.

Ren and Nora swapping personalities is such a neat idea. Ren cheerfully shouting "Imma deck you in the schnozz" at Jaune while Nora basically being the team mom is just... Chef's kiss. I love it.

Thank you for sharing your idea. I HIGHLY recommend watching the show. I'll admit, V7 and V8 are THE WORST volumes, but they also have some really great moments and soundtracks that you shouldn't miss. Just... gotta grit your teeth and bear it. But yeah, I am super interested in seeing where this story goes and I'd love to see what you do with it!