Red Dragon

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Fight Club

Though it was only eggs and link sausage, that mite amount of food did wonders to calm Francis’s heads and focus on the day ahead. Cassidy said her goodbye before hurrying out the door, while Bridget waited in the living room. Much to her displeasure. She wanted to be in the bathroom with him as he cleaned up, but not only did he feel like that was going someplace he would regret but Cassidy was still in the room at the time. So he told her to wait in the living room, which she only had words about after Cassidy closed the door.

“She’s really sweet,” Bridget said, sighing as she released Francis’s leg at last, tapping her chin. “No wonder you want to keep things civil.”

“I’m not even sure what you are talking about,” he grumbled, and started to stand. “All you women are crazy, I swear.”

She gasped as she stood as well, turned to a giggle as she hugged him from behind.

“We’re only crazy because you drive us there.”

“Bull-fucking-shit! All of you were already there; I simply stepped on the gas.” He groaned, easing her arms away, and straightened his shirt- then pants as she yanked on them. “Hey!”

“What? I’m just trying to help. Aren’t you going to go take a shower? You need to get naked for that.”

“I’m more than able to strip myself, thank you.”

“But where’s the fun in that.” She tugged on his waistband again, cooing against his ear. “Let me handle you... darling.”

He spun, and jabbed a finger into her chest. Her large, squishy, warm... needing chest.

“I don’t know why you started calling me that, but I’m telling you now: It’s annoying to hear it all the time.”

She grabbed his hand, but not to push or even to hold. Instead, it was pressed firmer against her chest, letting him feel her jutting nip under that black blouse and dark blue bra.

“I’m sorry. Don’t you like it?”

“It’s not that. I don’t mind it, but hearing it every other sentence is enough to drive somebody to slam their head through a wall... C... can I have my hand b- seriously. I need to go get ready-”

She tittered as he exclaimed, both grunting as she pulled his rump, and him, against her burgeoning form. The witch groped his rear, slipping down into the fabric, digging her nails in as her other kept his hand captive on her chest.

“Just to make sure,” she started, kissing him in between. “Are you certain you don’t want me in the bathroom with you?”

She kissed him again, moaning against his lips. Her hand slid out of his pants and up his back, underneath his shirt. It rose as she worked up to his head, ruffling his hair. Her chest jumped with her as she pounced on him, wrapping her legs around his middle, her blue skirt rolled up so as not to tear, showing off her white thong and the top of her hazelnut pantyhose. Her blue heels clacked off behind him, lost to her moans... as well as his as he indulged in the kiss.

Bridget broke at last, and looked at him through a haze, smirking.


“Yes.” He stated, and dropped her in the chair. She gave the cutest squeak as he did, and he couldn’t help but chortle as she growled and stood.

“You’re a jerk.”

“Oh yeah. I’M the jerk for not letting you see me bathe.”

“I could have joined you-”

“You already had a shower!”

“I wouldn’t mind another. If it was with you.”

“Can’t you just be happy with us having a... date... Ah hell.”


“I promised Des this week- no. Wait. I told her if nothing else came up-”

“And plenty did.”

She giggled, covering her mouth as her smirk became a full, shit-eating grin. Meanwhile, Francis simply rolled his eyes- and made her yip as he gave her rump a nice smack. Returned in kind. But that was enough procrastinating. He needed to take a shower, and end the tirade of beeps in the other room.

That anxious little cell would have to wait, even as it continued to “scream” bloody murder. It really was a persistent one, too. In fact, it seemed to grow louder with each passing moment he was under the stream of steaming, frigid water. By the time he threw on his gray slacks and the muumuu (it was a bit chilly that morning), its voice seemed to have cracked. And, seeing the wall that it held, he couldn’t blame it.

What surprised him, though, was that it wasn’t Desiree mostly messaging him. She was only twelve of the ninety, three of which were pictures of herself (mostly asking which outfit he would want to see), two for her breakfast, and the others simply asking if he was paying any lick of attention. There were ten from Destiny, but only one of them was new from the night before, meanwhile the last chunk was split between Tiny, Cassidy, Beatrice, Scarlette, the wolf pack (Mandy and Victoria mostly), Ali... and two from numbers he didn’t know. He started with them, since they were the most interesting.

Hey! This is Dixie. Ezra gave me your number... This is your number right?

The other, unsurprisingly, was Ezra.

Hey! This is Ezra. I’m hesitant to send this after that scene outside my door earlier, but Penny gave me your number and I passed it along to Dix. Can you tell her it is you?

Que? He sent to Ezra, but did confirm it with Dixie. He had a feeling the poor orc would have taken it seriously... and hoped Ezra would assume he did it to her, any- and there it was.

-.- You’re not funny, Ezra sent. You know that?

Bitch, I’m adorable.

Maybe to Dixie, but I saw first-hand what you do to women.

And I bet you were in that position.

It took her longer to answer, which he expected her to tell him to piss off and that he was blocked or to be nice to her friend. Something long-winded and unnecessary... instead, she sent something that made him guffaw.


Dixie sent him a text soon after.

Why is Ezra laughing? She wouldn’t tell me.

Idk, he sent, and sighed as he pocketed his cell, heading for the living room at last. Bridget stood as he opened the door, and ushered him to the entry then down to her car. Even though they ate, Francis was glad she decided to take a detour for fast food. That little bit wouldn’t have kept him content until break... Speaking of... He pulled out his phone again, waiting for the cashier to hand them the bags of greasy goodness. What are your guys’ plans for lunch?

I need to tutor today. Ezra is free, though. She loves Italian.

Francis cocked his brow. Ok? He shot Ezra a message. She’s trying to make me give you a hard sausage.

Both girls answered at almost the same time at that one.

E: She did not think that through. XD

D: O_O NOT WHAT I MEANT. She sent a follow-up. I just want my best friend to get along with my new friend.

Why does it feel like you wanted to say something else there?

Ezra replied, instead.

As fun as it is to see her face light up, can you chill on the teasing? I can only cool her down so much. XD

But it’s fun... More fun than whom I’m texting next, he thought, and groaned as he opened to Desiree. Yes. I was ignoring you. Sort of became a habit after photopocalypse. Also was dealing with shit this morning.

So I heard from Cass, she sent. Are you and that harpy really going on ANOTHER date this weekend! I thought you said we were.

I said if I had room, I MAY consider it... and no. I’m not going on another date with Cass. Dropping in for a meeting with her dad. He waited for her to have read before he began the next message. I am going out with Professor Deckard, though.

Sent. Read... Silence. Not that he could check anymore, anyways. The employee finally found the gumption to get off her ass and walk out to deliver their food. How dare they not be up to snuff for four bags worth of their shitty items? Only two of them had fries at that. He cradled them, his lovely children, as Bridget pulled out into traffic then into the parking lot. She pulled one of the bags away, the one filled with golden nuggets, twelve packs in all, and pulled out two.

“Do you really eat this much?” Francis said, tugging out one of the double cheeseburgers.

“Not all at once, but it saves me a lot of time, and money, to buy them in bulk like this,” she said, muffled by four nugs at once... Francis would have thought that impressive if the memory of his member in her mouth wasn’t so fresh. The fist-sized head, treated like a baby’s bottle, nursed of its “milk” with such ease. She gulped them down, and sighed as she pulled out a chicken sandwich to wash down the nugs. “I’m going to be sad once they stop offering this bundle. $10 for a basket of fries, two doubles, two chicken sandwiches, and twenty nuggets is a downright steal.”

“Yes, but I bet your wallet will thank you.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“I would be, since you are a teacher. Aren’t you basically paid piss-all?”

“Yes and no... If you can keep it a secret-”

“No promises.”

“Then I won’t tell you.”

“Why not? Who’s going to believe me, anyways?”

She cooed, and patted his head. With a nug.

“Though true, you need to be nicer to yourself... Okay. I make about twenty an hour-”

“Damn! I was always told teachers barely make above minimum. For their area, at least.”

“Normally they are... There’s been a new... incentive program established by Panacea Pharmaceuticals, the main contributors to Vereor Nox Academy. Teachers that stay longer than four years are given a bonus to their paycheck, while those prior to four are given benefits to stay on.”

“Benefits? Such as?”

“Free insurance. Across the board. Free board at the apartments. A grant up to $20,000 for expenses both in the classroom and personal –such as getting a car. Mental health aid and promotion. Extra PDO -paid time off-, additional holidays-”

“Okay, where’s the catch. That sounds all too good to be true.”

“Is it? Because students that started this year are given the same benefits.”

“Wait... really? I can get a grant for twenty-K right now?”

“Well, no. The person who approves it is still out-”

“Of course it is! Of course it’s the same fucking person keeping me from getting a job.” He growled, tearing into four doubles at once. There was one survivor, though only held on by a spongy bit of bun, locked under his thumb. “So do senior employees, also, get those benefits? As well as the raise?”


“So how did you get the raise?”

She tittered, squishing her cheeks.

“Do I look that young?” No, but I know how “old” you really are. She gobbled a handful of fries before she cleared her throat and rolled her wrist. “Well, I’ve been working here at VNA for close to ten years now. All of the witches have –well, save for Samantha. This is her first year.”

“And she’s your ‘leader’?”

“Only in prestige... In truth, Tanya is our ‘leader’ since she has been here the longest. She has a year on me, while I have four months on Lola-”

“Speaking of Lola, how does her magic work? I know Tanya is essentially a Dr. Jekyll-Mr. Broly situation where she unleashes the beast within, but how does Lola exactly function?”

“Oh, she’s the weakest of us. She can infect the mind and some minor objects in the world around her-”

“So a weaker version of you?”

“No. It’s more... meta-alteration? It’s more like an inception, where she plots the seeds or pushes the right object to get everything moving. If she really pushes it, she can control other’s minds... but, that’s where the drawback kicks in.”

“And that is?”

“She’s a sadist at heart, so altering so much, controlling so much... it turns her on. However, it also leeks back into her own mind and makes it only able to focus on one thing.”

“So she becomes a bitch in heat and only wants dick.”

“Precisely... It’s what dooms her whenever she tries to connive, in truth. In fact, about years ago, it stopped her ultimately from winning over a certain guy. She tried so hard, too, even managed to get him to... well, play with himself beside her as they watched pornographic tapes.”

“At that point, why didn’t she just bend over and give him head? That would have won him over.”

“If it was a normal guy, maybe, but even then- well, you understand, don’t you? You’ve seen the disparity at VNA. He had his pick... Tell me, would you really have settled for me after just pleasuring you with my chest?”

“Hell, if you asked at that moment for a ring, I might have actually got you one.”

Fries rattled to the floor as she dropped that basket. Her face was redder than her hair, and tears gleamed in her eyes.

“R...really? Just from... from t-that?”

“You really don’t understand how much I needed that. Nicole has been REALLY driving me down a dark pit... and, within those lovely ta-ta’s, I found... bliss. I found sanctuary. I found true... TRUE FUCKING RELIEF.” He exclaimed, throwing his head back against the seat, but pulled out a box of nuggets. “But that was then. Now, with a clear head... you’ll need to work harder.”

“Oh... Well, that’s a shame... Maybe I should wait until you are so desperate again.”

“Please don’t.”

She snorted, giggling at his voice on that... A shame he wasn’t joking. In fact, even mentioning it soured his stomach. He closed the lid on the single nug left, tossed it in the bag, and she rolled them up, depositing them in a cooler she kept under the passenger seat. Bridget pecked his cheek before they both climbed out of the car and lumbered their way to the steps. They didn’t need to part ways until the third floor. She headed down the right hall while he trudged, alone, to Johnny’s class. He checked the time and saw he was only thirty minutes late, so it surprised him that his bright professor was in the middle of his lecture instead of pestering Lilith where he was. Made clear as he walked in.

“There he is,” Johnny said, pausing the video on the board. There were numbers flying before a very confused woman’s face, trying so hard to look like she was looking at them. “Did you enjoy your breakfast with Professor Deckard?”

“It was okay. That woman can pack away the nugs.”

“That she can.” He held up a paper. “Here’s your test, by the way... I would say we need to discuss it, but-”

“Forty-three?” Francis exclaimed, ripping it out of the professor’s hand, looking it over... growling louder with each answer. “How are these wrong?”

“Because you are angry and not looking at the entirety.” He pointed to the first mistake, on the back page. “Take a deep breath... and look... closer.”

Francis did... though it was hard. Especially after seeing it, and why. It was such a subtle change, such a nuanced difference, but it was enough to change the answer to second option instead of the fourth. The same was true for every answer after, which only made his blood boil more. He tossed the test on Johnny’s table, and huffed. A small puff of fire followed after as his fins creaked and squelched under his skin.

“If you knew how I screwed up, why didn’t you mark them right?” He grumbled.

“... Are you serious?”

“Yes! You knew I knew the answers-”

“I did, but you didn’t put them down. It’s not a matter if I know or not, Francis. It’s what you can show... I am a mind-reader, but most people are not. Intention is not the same as action.” He sighed, putting the test away while, also, pulling out a fresh packet, handing to Francis as he patted his head. “You need to cool your tits, my man... You have a brilliant mind, but flying off the handle doesn’t do you any favors. This is for the weeks you missed.”

Francis growled, and snatched the pack out of the professor’s hand before stomping over beside Carl... He didn’t feel like humoring the Fang in any way that day so he simply pushed him to the ground. Failing him for not reading the fine print; what bullshit was that! Maybe he was wrong about Professor Cuck; maybe he was just like the rest of them.

Carl climbed back on his seat- only to be pushed off again. This time the chair followed after, clanging, echoing through the room.

“Will you lay off?” The furry in the back dared to say. “He didn’t do anything to you!”

“I concur,” Captain Kidd added. “You are being a right ass in this moment.”

Francis’s growl rumbled through the room as he stood, turning to them. He fanned his arms, the fans at their ends freed as flames frothed off his lips.

“You want to go? I’m more than happy to. I can’t be expelled, no matter what I do to you. Do you really want to waste your lives? Do you!”

“No one wants to fight,” the fluffy fox fuck stated. “We’re simply saying that Carl doesn’t deserve it!”

“He’s a fucking Fang! He deserves far worse.”

“He’s not wrong,” Carl grumbled, groaning as he took his seat again- only to be thrown against the wall.

“Francis!” Johnny boomed.

“You heard him. He gave permission,” Francis said, snickering as he shoved the Fang’s head hard against that white board, slamming it again and again and again. It was stained a pretty shade of red, wiped across as Francis streaked his head across. “He wants to die so fucking bad. The fucking edgelord.”

Francis snarled, and dropped him, kicking him in the gut. The Fang wheezed, doubling over... yet still seemed so calm. Infuriatingly calm. Why doesn’t he fight back? Why doesn’t he do something! Was this his way of getting under his skin, his grand master plan? To do fucking nothing!

Carl found his breath at last, and uncurled. He reached up for the wall- and winced as Francis dug his nails through it, lifting him up and looking at his face... Even then, there was no malice to be seen in the Fang’s eyes. Instead, there was... resignation. Almost boredom of all that was transpiring. As if he was nothing. As if FRANCIS WAS NOTHING.

“Don’t do it!” Johnny screamed, but it was too late. Francis’s hand lunged, aimed for the Fanger’s heart.

Stopped. Caught by Mordred.

Those purples burned bright, glittering as Francis’s hand crunched in that armored grip. Francis dropped Carl and swung at the knight’s head, stopped as well. In a blur, his arm was under his, bent in an uncomfortable angle, and the world turned over before stars flashed before his eyes, meeting the ground. He wouldn’t let a show get in the way though; he rolled to his feet and caught Mordred’s knee. Its spiky end just grazed his muumuu, but it would not tear it. Not over his dead body.

He flung it off, rippling through the room as the fight erupted into the hallway. Metal shrieked against his claws. His growls, his roars rumbled the lockers, but he spent more time on his back than he liked to admit. He might have been in fights, but Mordred was on a whole other level. The way he moved, the way he composed and plotted out; he had training. Military training.

The drachen wouldn’t be shown up, though. Not this day. Not by a literal knight in shining armor. He raked his arm across Mordred’s chest, and saw his hand tried to catch it-

And blew flames right into his visor.

Mordred gasped, backed off, but Francis seized the opportunity. He pounced on the knight, pushing his entire weight right into his center, toppling them to the ground. He held them by the shoulders, and took a deep breath, the flames brewing in his chest- only for the world to flip over. And for Mordred to be holding him down.

“Enough!” He boomed... but Francis noticed something... off with his voice. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it didn’t matter at that moment as the knight stood... and picked up the drachen in one fell swoop. Mordred had him by the scruff of the neck, carrying him like a kitten back into the classroom, and deposited him at his table... still dumbfounded.

Johnny was at his desk, pinching his brow... but sighed.

“You got it out of your system?” He said.

“Y... yeah. I think so... Sorry,” Francis mumbled, and looked back at Mordred. Finding the knight staring back. He snapped his head forward again, just in time to be blinded by his muumuu, and pondered for the rest of the class what it was he exactly heard... He chanced a glance over at Carl (yes, chanced, for he felt those purple eyes bore hard as he tried to move any which way) and saw that the Fang had healed already, now looking bored at the lesson playing before him. “You okay?”

“Yep,” The Fang said, but that was it.

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