The Absolute Athletic Admiration Society
(a teenage monster love story in five parts)

i had this idea about supernatural high school sports and i wanted to create a fang/lightning story once before I forgot how to write fanfiction entirely so yeah (i'm also 40 percent in this for awful puns just so u kno). It's split into 5 lengthy parts in 5 different POVs but don't worry it's all chronological so without further ado

if you like fantasy football

you came to the right place

Disclaimed.

I.

"Join, I dunno," Fang hummed, rubbing the back of her neck. "Debate team?"

Vanille stared at her best friend for a solid minute. "I've never wanted to argue professionally," she said slowly, a small quirk her lips. "And I'm not a vampire nor a unicorn, so I probably wouldn't be very welcome in the club anyway, really." There was a slight breeze that ruffled their hair, but the weather was rather nice out on the bleachers for how early it was, she thought.

"You're likely right," Fang agreed. She smirked, however, "Oh, but look at how seamlessly ya just convinced me of that—surely they've got room for a witch somewhere in their ranks?"

"No more than the Supernatural Super-Vegan Society has space for a werewolf in theirs," the red-haired girl said, smiling widely. Fang barked in laughter, and Vanille couldn't help but giggle with her—that was truly an image for the imagination!

"I-I bet if I even tried," Fang spoke between spurts of chuckling, "there would be a force field or somethin', like, 'BEEP BEEP,'" she shouted, moving her limbs stiffly in an effort to mimic a robot, "'WEREWOLF ON THE PREMISES BEEP BEEP HIDE YOUR SALADS BEEP BEEP!'"

Vanille had tears in her eyes with how hard she was laughing. "That's enough, girlie—those poor elf-things would never know how to react," she scolded, grinning. "Although…if you ever do try to join, I demand to be present when the gnomes start screaming in terror."

"Milady, you'll be the first in line to witness," Fang solemnly promised, bowing forward. She looked up from beneath thick, wavy hair, a wide smirk exposing her sharpened teeth. "Witness the carnage, I mean—it's a doozy tryin' to resist eatin' elves about that time of month, Van."

"Sure it is," the witch agreed. She crossed her legs, resting her chin on an open palm as she leaned forward. A sigh spilled from her full lips, and Fang straightened up. "Oh, but all jokes aside—I need a club activity of sorts to join! I'm in my sophomore year of high school and all I've done is win a spelling bee that I am sure I cheated on, somehow." All she remembered that day was being asked to spell 'chrysanthemums' and she accidentally incanted an old Latin spell that apparently gave her control over a person's conscious thought for one minute. She tries so hard to not use her powers for evil, but there was nothing she could do if her History teacher and the wrestling coach were too weak to resist a little old magic.

Fang plopped next to her on the bench, her green eyes thoughtful as they stared out into the dark grey winter sky. She looked quite comfortable, somehow, in her grey jumper, gym shorts, and knee high athletic socks. "Well, I dunno what to say," she replied, smiling. "Ya shot down my suggestions of Knittin' Club—"

"Well, of course! I've no need for knitting, nor do I know how to. I'm not a mummy, Fang."

"—Cooking Club—"

"No need! Between my mum's gypsy concoctions and learning potions with my dad, I already have a home life deep in making edible things."

"—Robotics Association—"

"I'm a witch—I literally have no use for anything a robot can do."

"—and so on and so forth," Fang groaned, rolling her eyes. "Ya even rejected Art Club, and no lazy teenager worth their salt would ever not want to join such an easy activity. You're jus' a monster of a lost cause, sweetheart!"

Vanille smacked her forehead, dragging the hand down her face in a show of exasperation. "You're tellin' me!" she huffed. "I wish I could be some dumb jock like you and just play football all the time—life is so hard when you have high school hopes as high as mine."

Fang opened her mouth, likely to refute the 'dumb jock' statement, but her eyes widened and if it were a bit closer to a full moon her ears would be perked in perfect triangles.

"I've got it!" Fang yelped, grabbing her best friend's shoulders. She shook Vanille a little, but she was for the most part mindful of her freaky strength and Vanille continued life without brain damage. "You should become the manager for the football team! It's bloody genius—I'm a bloody genius!"

"While you may be a bloody genius," Vanille replied, patting her friend's tanned hand. "I'm rather confused—what is it you're suggesting?"

The older teenager cleared her throat, her infamous smirk fixed upon her lips. "My football team—soccer, if you're an ignorant bastard and all—needs a manager," she explained. "The season's already almost over, and our last manager was'a real piece o' work and ditched us afta' last game, even though the next game is the championship! All we need is someone to keep track o' some things and organize some shit, Van. It's perfect for ya!"

Vanille blinked slowly. "But…will I have to do a lot of movement?" she asked carefully. When Fang started giving her a blank expression, she struggled to explain her motives. "I mean, if I didn't join Art Club because I'm too lazy, I don't think I'd be interested in, well, picking up dirty jockstraps and footballs! I'm serious!"

Fang looked like she really wanted to smack her forehead. "Not that many people wear jockstraps on the team," she said. "Likely because half the team is female. And, honestly, nobody would be expectin' ya to creep the male locker room to grab the 'straps for some weird witch procedure, so, right. No, no jockstraps." She grinned, excited once more. "And, honestly, what's stoppin' ya from usin' some wicked witch powers to do some of the more…physical manager duties?" She elbowed the red-haired girl, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Ah," Vanille hemmed, tapping her chin. Fang had a point—if she used magic for a purpose such as being the manager to a high school association football team, then it wasn't for evil at all. It was for a legitimate job, one that would make everyone's lives easier. She wouldn't even have to lift a finger, it would look great on her high school transcript, the season was almost over, and there were always cute blokes to be found on a football field…by the devil, this just might be the greatest idea Fang has ever had.

Ever.

"You know," she start, looking over to the werewolf with a wide smile. "I think I will do it. It can't be so hard, right?"

Fang let out a bit of a howl in joy, and Vanille winced at the piercing sound. "This is bloody excellent! You're a beauty, Van!" the darker-skinned girl exclaimed, grabbing her friend's hand. "We should go to the coach right now, and get this figured! Ah, I'm so happy, mate!"

This excitement is contagious, Vanille thought as she jumped up and followed her best friend since daycare to the inside of their high school. They rushed through the sleepy, early evening crowd, with the tanned girl shouting out a couple of "'Scuse me!"s and "You're lookin' fine, Clarisse!" before Fang brought them to a door that Vanille recognized as her Netherworld Studies class.

The taller girl knocked on the door twice, her excitement almost palpable.

When nobody answered, Fang pressed her ear to the door. "'Ello?" she called. She banged on the door again. "Wiiiiitch doctor—give me the magic wor-oooah!" The teenage werewolf almost fell through the now open entrance, and Vanille looked up into Mr. Katzroy's entirely unimpressed visage.

"You keep up that 'witch doctor' song mess," the teacher started with a twitching eyebrow. His afro was still as perfect as ever, Vanille noted. "I will somehow find a way to kick you off the team without damning the last game."

Fang straightened up, smirking. "Good luck with that, Doc. Howeva'!" She wrapped an arm around Vanille's shoulder, pulling the girl closer to her, "Coach, I'd like you to meet the potential new manager. My best mate Vanille Dia, at your service!"

Vanille smiled nervously, waving in greeting. "Good evening, Mr. Katzroy," she said. "Fang just mentioned the position was open and, well, I thought I'd try—"

"Sorry, where are you from?" Mr. Katzroy interrupted, scratching his dark beard. He cocked his head, observing the red-haired witch with dark brown eyes. "I'm sure you're in my class, but I don't know too much about you, Miss Dia. I've always been sort of curious to know, I guess."

"Oh!" Vanille smiled wider. "Well, I'm also from Oerba. We're next door neighbors, Fang and I, and she's always been my best friend."

"Through the thickest and the thin," Fang agreed, proud.

Mr. Katzroy nodded. "That's nice and all," he replied. "And I'm glad to see someone steppin' up to the plate when we need help the most." He grimaced a bit, and Vanille almost became alarmed. "However, and I mean no disrespect, Miss Dia, but have you ever seen a game of football in your life? Let alone understood it?"

Vanille paused. "Err," she cleared her throat. "No?" It wasn't her fault she found most sports absolutely uninteresting! Or, perhaps it was, but that didn't matter at this point.

The black man hummed, scratching his afro. "Well, at least you're honest," he said with a grin. He gave her another once over, hands on his hips. "And, since you're a witch, you'll probably be a great help, especially with keeping Li'l Miss Full Moon over there cool in the game." Mr. Katzroy held out his hand.

The witch carefully put her smaller hand in his, and they shook. "Does this mean—" she started, eyes wide.

Mr. Katzroy smiled, showing a bit of white teeth. "Welcome to the Taijin High School Deathgazers, Miss New Manager."

II.

"I made the rugby team!" Snow yelled, bursting into the classroom in a flurry of thick limbs and towering height. He maneuvered through the desks, and when he reached his destination he held up a large hand in ready preparation for a truly excellent high-five. "Up top!"

Lightning Farron looked up at him from her book with a really blank expression, and Snow felt his spirits drain a bit, but no matter! He lowered his hand, and decided on instead giving her a bright grin that should lighten up her day if just by sheer niceness.

"Light, dude, I made it!" he tried again, giving a thumbs up for both his success and just to make Lightning give him some sort of expression about this great piece of news. "Next season, I'll be a starter player on the rugby team—I mean, of course, I'll still be on the soccer team with you for this season, and we'll always be teammates for life, but—"

"I cannot recall a single time I've talked to you outside of telling you to leave me alone or to yell at you for some of the truly awful plays you suggest before games," Lightning cut him off, her icy blue eyes cutting into Snow's very soul. She turned a page in her book, and returned her attention to it. "The football field, by the way. Only idiots would call it soccer."

Snow opened his mouth to reply, but Lightning looked up at him once more with those killer blue eyes, and the large teenager closed his mouth with a snap of his teeth.

One day, Snow thought, turning away with a sigh. He lumbered to his seat, feeling stifled in the school uniform of a white collar shirt with pressed black pants, and plopped next to his main dude and mostly Minotaur friend, Gadot. Gadot was probably like a fourth something else, since his face was pretty normal and not bull-ish, but he rocked the huge bovine horns on the sides of his Mohawk. They never really talked about the teen's parentage, but maybe that was for the best.

"Aw," Gadot smiled awkwardly. "She'll like you one day. Maybe in a thousand years while the sun is out and she's dyin' and you were the only source of shade for miles. And that's a really big 'maybe.'"

Snow groaned. "I just wanted to high five someone," he mumbled. "And Lightning is one of the coolest people ever—it can't be too hard to just give a dude a nice dap for his success!"

The red-haired teen laughed, "Well if that's all you wanted, hold out your hand, boss," he said, raising his own large palm.

Snow straightened up in his seat, grinning. "You're great, man," he said, and geared up his left arm.

He slammed his palm into his friend's, and his arm was suddenly flying across the classroom.

Gadot and Snow watched it soar through the room above their classmate's sleepy heads, hit the wall on the far right, and fall with a gentle plop in front of a familiar young pink-haired woman.

"Oh, wow," Serah Farron blinked in surprise. Putting a small cooler to the side, she bent down and picked up the arm, squeaking a bit under its unexpected weight. "And who might this belong to?"

Snow's detached limb pat her shoulder with a heavy hand, and a finger pointed to the large, blond teenager who was waving his other arm with clear embarrassment.

"Oh, Snow, duh," Serah laughed, and carried the arm to the older teenager. "You have a relationship with high-fives like I do with sunlight—it doesn't work out, at all."

The blond teen chuckled nervously, taking the arm with a grateful nod. "I just get really excited," he explained, reaching over with his good arm for his backpack. Rustling around in the bag for a moment, Snow pulled out a well-used sewing set, and Gadot held his arm to his shoulder socket in a normal procedure. "I know I shouldn't even try for high-fives, but I can't help but want to share my excitement with someone!"

The pink-haired girl smiled, and Snow felt his day get so much better in one moment. "Well, why not just talk about what's got you so excited?" she asked, her hands behind her back as she leaned forward. "Here—I'll help! Snow Villiers, what's got you so up in arms?" She winked, and the blond teen's heart threatened to break through his chest (and it wouldn't be the first time, either).

"Welllll," Snow answered, dragging the 'L' with a wide smile. He tugged the thread tightly through his skin, once again excited. "I got in on the rugby team as a starter for next season!"

"That's awesome, Snow!" Serah gasped, clapping her hands together. "You're going to be completely great, I already know it!"

"Or, we will have to pick up the many parts of Snow Villiers from the field after he gets tackled once—because that is exactly what's going to happen," Lightning's ice-cold voice froze Snow's heartbeat, and he turned to look at her with a bashful smile. The pink-haired girl stood slightly taller than her younger sister with crossed arms and a severely unimpressed expression, but Snow could guess why. She never really liked it when the large male interacted with her sister, ever.

"Aww, Light, I don't think—"

"You don't have the capacity to think," Lightning deadpanned.

Serah sighed, nudging her sister with a delicate elbow. "Claire, you should really be nicer," she countered. "Especially since Snow's your soc—football teammate. You can't possibly be a good team player if you're just going to be a jerk all the time." She turned to Snow, her smile bright on her lips. "And, personally, I think Snow's going to do great in rugby season!"

"I'm glad to know you think Villiers will last longer than twenty-two seconds on the rugby field," Lightning replied, her tone rife with sarcasm. "Especially after that stunning performance where his entire arm went flying through the classroom only to ironically land at your feet after a weak hand to hand impact." She turned to her sister, her lips curved in a deep frown. "Wasn't there another reason you came to my class other than to force me into some sort of semi-interaction with Villiers?"

Snow frowned. "In my defense," he said before Serah and Lightning could leave. "Gadot's a Minotaur—anybody's arm would've flown off after that great of a high-five!" He grinned at his friend, who shook his head with a small smile.

"Anybody who wasn't an undead ragdoll would probably still have all their limbs," Lightning responded blankly. With one last reproachful look, she walked away from Snow with the grace of something with a lot of grace (a zombie model?), and Serah followed her with a laugh and a wink in Snow's direction. They stood near the doorway of the class, talking in low tones about something, and the blond 'undead ragdoll' finished sewing his arm back onto his shoulder.

He flexed his fingers, grinning when each one worked accordingly. "Back in business!" he crowed, holding his hand up to Gadot.

The redhead laughed loudly. "No way!" he snorted. "I'm done with high-fives with you for the day!"

Snow laughed with him. "I don't even blame you," he said, turning back to the Farrons. Serah had reached into her small cooler and pulled out the unmistakably red packet of likely human blood and gave it to her sister.

"—missed breakfast," he overheard, and Lightning rolled her eyes. She, however, did take the blood pack, and stuck it in her mouth without thinking. Her elongated fang punctured through the plastic, and she sucked up the blood cleanly and quickly.

Gadot gagged. "Vampires are so gross with that blood shit," he grumbled, grimacing in clear disgust.

"I guess?" Snow replied, turning back to his friend. "I mean, everyone has to eat somehow. It's just where I like burgers—which I am sorry about, dude—vampires prefer the blood of their hapless victims or something. Its nature man, nothin' we can do about it."

"I guess," Gadot conceded. He stretched in his seat, maneuvering his arms to fit behind his protruding horns. "So, what's new on the soccer front, boss? I heard you guys reamed Euride Tech four to zero!"

Snow smirked, waving him off. "That was a joke," he boasted, crossing his arms over his thick chest. "I don't even know how a bunch of nerds like that got past their first game—Gadot, dude, I swear the team was nothin' but zombies and ghosts. I almost felt bad when Kreiss stole the ball and the midfielder's leg came with it!" Noel Kreiss then passed both the leg and ball to Lightning, who glared at him in acute disgust before shooting both to the opposition's goal where the ghoulish goalie was rather helpless to stop it.

It was an embarrassingly easy game win, as quite a few are with other monster prep schools.

"Dude!" the red-haired teen snorted, laughing. "That's weak!"

"You're tellin' me! Thank the dark goddess Etro that we're goin' to the regional championship in a week—all these prep school competitions are lame," Snow complained, rubbing his blue eyes and yawning. "Sorry, I had to come in early in the evening for try-outs."

Gadot shrugged. "No issue," he replied. "Though, I kinda wanna know—is regionals when you guys go against the public school kids? Like, on the other side of the valley?" He looked overly curious, and Snow didn't really get why.

"Yeah? I mean, we don't meet on their side…we sort of, I dunno, get together at the Hanging Edge Arena for the championship. But what's the big deal about public schools anyway? I don't think there's much of a difference between us and them," the larger teen tried to get his thoughts together. "Except, uh, they don't wear uniforms? And everyone thinks they're trashy?"

"Boss, those schools're full of witches and werewolves and demons—they're pretty trashy," Gadot said with a smirk. "It's gotta be a ton of doable chicks though, like, I've heard in public schools there are way more succubae and it's against school rules to stop them from doin' succubus shit! Let alone just the other hot monsters—and they'll be way easier than these icicles at this tundra of an academy." He snuck a none-too-subtle look at Lightning, who didn't look like she heard anything so Snow assumed Gadot could live another day.

Snow turned just in time to see Serah leave the classroom, and a dopey smile weighed on his cheeks. "I'm not really interested in that kind of thing, bro," he replied, resisting the urge to sigh like some love-struck human.

"No, boss, of course," Gadot snickered. "You still have a thing for Freshman Farron." He nudged his blond friend, who batted his arm away with a faux annoyance. Gadot leaned in lowering her voice. "At least you've got enough sense to go for the better one—Lightning's super hot, but she is a huge bitch—" the temperature in the room dropped a solid ten degrees, and Snow cursed Gadot's very birth, "—aaaand she's behind us, isn't she?"

"And here I was, thinking you two had better things to do than talk about other people," Lightning said, her voice biting like a thousand needles. Snow winced, and opened his mouth to apologize, but the pink-haired vampire was having none of his words, it seemed. "Villiers, you're on equipment duty for the next week until after the championship. If you think I'm such a huge bitch, then I'd better live up to the title, right?"

Gadot snorted quietly, "You've already lived up to it and then came back reincarnated," he muttered. Snow closed his eyes—he really didn't want the pink-haired vampire to hate either of them any more than usual, but jeez the Minotaur was making it hard!

Lightning's light blue eyes snapped to him, and the red-haired Minotaur physically tried to not shudder in fear. "You probably think you're clever," she said, crossing her arms. She curled her upper lip in a very impressive sneer, with her pointed fangs peeking out over her bottom lip. "Especially with your floundering C average. Maybe you would find a better place in a public school yourself; their lack of desire to succeed mirrors yours almost perfectly."

The vampire then walked back to her seat, sitting down and picking up her book where she left off. Gadot seethed, and Snow sighed, rubbing his temples.

"Who the fuck does she think she is?" the Minotaur raged quietly, slamming a fist atop his desk. "Does she think she's better than us because she's on the soccer team or some shit?"

"That's just Lightning," Snow replied, looking back at the girl with a small frown. Sure, she wasn't that nice, but she was ridiculously cool and the best forward their school has seen in decades…but she always looked so lonely—he really just wanted to be her friend, but he kept fucking it up, somehow.

"Being 'just Lightning' isn't an excuse for being a huge bitch, dude," Gadot tried to reason.

Snow shrugged. "She's the captain of Bodhum Prep's Nightmares for a reason," he said. He leveled his friend with a serious look. "And it's not for being a 'bitch' either."

III.

Fang considered herself to be a perfectly amicable young lady, really. She was easy to talk to, the first to crack a joke about anything, and she always stood up for what was right, or at least what she thought was right.

However, she had very mixed emotions for this Caius Ballad bloke—emotions that were mixed between "hate" and "amusement."

"I just don't understand why she's considered captain," the asshole was talking to his single female friend and favorite ghost, Yeul Nsu, in what he thought was a whisper, but Fang is a fucking werewolf. There is no such thing as a quiet voice when her ears get involved. "She's erratic, her so-called strategies are rather ridiculous, and her only redeeming attribute, barely, is her strength. I swear, she's a female brute with no finesse or knowledge—she'd be better off playing rugby."

Yeul was quiet for a good minute. "I think Yun is a nice captain," she whispered, and Fang was momentarily appeased. "She's led the football team to many victories that would not have ended well without her."

Caius almost scoffed, blowing his long purple hair away from his violet eyes. "There's no way you could have predicted that," he countered calmly.

The ghost shrugged. "I can, and I did," she replied. "Yun is an integral part of our football team, despite her 'shortcomings' as perceived by you."

Fang knew that if she had a tail, it would be wagging like the devil right now. Unfortunately, it was only the middle of the month, and the moon was only a half-shape in the dark night sky. The bus rumbled down the road through the forest, and the trees stared at the teenagers with gnarled faces frozen in silent screams. Fang waved at one, and it waved a thin branch back.

"Do you have a thing for her?" Caius was apparently not done with this shitfest, and Fang turned in her seat with a furrowed brow. "Is it because every time she talks to us, every other word she says to you is clearly an attempt at flirting?"

Yeul blinked slowly, her face never once showing emotion. "Do you have something against Fang's sexuality?" she asked, sounding legitimately curious.

And, guess what, Fang was pretty interested herself. "Yeah, do you?" she asked aloud, turning around completely in the bus seat. She rested her arms against the top of the sticky leather, smirking at the two blank-faced teenagers that didn't look a bit embarrassed to be talking about her. "I can understand perfectly if you think I'm hot, Caius—"

"I don't."

"—but there's no reason we can't discuss it like men! Or, ratha', monsters," Fang winked at Yeul, who didn't break expression but she was sure the small girl was amused. "And you, Miss Nsu, are lookin' lovely tonight. Is that'ta new spiritual essence or is this your usual cold dead soul?"

"My own dead soul," Yeul replied, an extremely small smile showing up on her lips. Caius did not look impressed, but Fang gave all of no fucks when it came to the douchebag gargoyle. She personally couldn't wait to catch him in the daylight just to kick his stone figure once. "I am quite excited for this game tonight, as well Fang."

"Ah, me too!" Fang grinned, her teeth sharp and dangerous as ever. "We've never gotten to regional championships before, y'know, and nobody expects us t' do well, bein' a mere public school an' all—but we'll show them, I know it!" The article in the Pulsian Predator after their unexpected win was headlined with 'A Monstrous Miracle: Taijin Deathgazers Make Soccer Championship, Hopefully Not Fools of Themselves' and Vanille took it upon herself to pull out her wand and burn the entire newspaper with a wide smile.

"However, we are facing against the Bodhum Nightmares," Caius interjected, his low voice a sweeping annoyance in the werewolf's sensitive ears. "I know someone on the team…he's a mere warlock, but still…"

Yeul blinked. "Are you speaking of Noel?" she asked.

Caius nodded, looking almost disgruntled. "Yes, him," he returned his attention to Fang, who always got so bored when talking to the emotionless duo. She'd like a little more inflection in their voices, please. "He decided to move across the valley to Cocoon after our shared middle school experience, and he recently joined the football team this year. I mean no disrespect, but Kreiss was a rather talented footballer from my memories, and Bodhum Preparatory Academy is known for an excellent strategist as well as attacking forward."

Fang cocked her head, "So, what, they're really good?" she yawned, her clawed fingertips barely covering her wide mouth with a lolling tongue. "Big whoop—of course they are! This is the last game of the season—the championships, moron. I'd be offended if I finally didn't get a challenge after all the goblins and demons we've been faced against all season. I'm all for some preppy priss school to whack as a nice touch for our wicked season, mates." She winked at them both before sliding out of her seat and crouch-walking over to the manager of the football team.

Vanille sat facing the front of the bus, her hands patting her thighs to some weird beat while singing in tune with the pretty awful Top 40 Hellhoard hit pouring from her headphones.

"Your soul is damned, and so is ours," she sang quietly, bobbing her head. "Prepare yourself, plebe, for the last hour—you will forget this world, and your family, now sacrifice your blood in preparation to release the Dark Lord—yeah, yeah, yeah!"

Dear satanic entity Anima, please spare me, the werewolf thought with a wince. She pulled one of the headphones from the girl's ears, and geared herself. "Oi!" she barked, and almost fell over laughing when Vanille jumped and squeaked out a hasty spell that made Fang slap her own face.

"Don't do that!" the witch scolded, patting her friend's cheek. "You know I hate it when you interrupt my music!"

"That wasn't music," Fang explained, shaking her hand in hopes that the spell was defunct now. "That was awful."

"It's Antichrist Brown. You literally cannot have high expectations for him," Vanille countered. "And you don't even listen to the radio. All you do is troll the sinternet for mediocre indie music you find on gorgon folk blogs."

Fang frowned, "Munsters & Son is not mediocre—their music really get t' me," she muttered. She was very fond of their single 'Lifeless Little Human' and only trolled BooTube for other folk indie bands that were similar. "But, anyway, that's definitely not what I want to talk to you about. Can ye believe that gargoyle arsewipe was talkin' shit about me not bein' a great captain? And he's apparently put off by me sayin' a couple of nice things to Yeul every once in'na while."

"She's a pretty sweet girl…" Vanille agreed, giving Fang a particular look.

"A perfectly nice miss, indeed! Of which is why I am nice to her, of course," the werewolf continued, aware she probably looked petulant as hell as she crossed her arms.

"…but you're a very big flirt, Fang," the red-haired teenager sighed, shaking her head. "You'd make a succubus flutter about with the very flirtatious and curiously romantic lines you'd give a girl in a moment."

Fang scoffed, waving a hand in dismissal. "Ah, but nobody takes me seriously with that," she laughed.

Vanille looked worried. "Um, yeah, they do," she said.

"…" Fang cocked her head. "Well, I had no idea there were people who took me seriously. Also, who's takin' me seriously?"

"You must be kidding me. Fang, love, you're the star of the football team and the most attractive female in Taijin, probably even all of Oerba," the witch said, rolling her blue eyes. "You're the less-than-dry dream of our school, and you are also very inclined to leading our classmates on." She narrowed her eyes. "You should really tone it down, Fang. I can see why Caius would be pissed with you. Especially with his extremely transparent crush on his equally transparent ghost of a best friend."

The wavy-haired girl opened her mouth, and then closed it with a click of her teeth. "Well I can't help the way I am, Van," she grumbled, huffing through her nose.

"I'm sure if you found someone for yourself, you'd be a bit less heavy with the fictional romancing," Vanille comforted, patting her friend's arm.

"But I don't like anyone, really," Fang groaned, covering her eyes. "Nobody is really interestin' at Taijin, and I'm not attracted to boredom." She was, personally, into challenging, violent hunts and association football, and that's all she really needed to be happy. Well, that, and salted jerky.

"There are other monsters in the world outside Taijin," Vanille laughed. She held her earbuds in her fingers, obviously preparing to put them back in her ears. "I'm going back to my Top 40 trash, as you call it. We've got another 25 minutes until we reach the Edge, so maybe you should take a short nap?"

Fang rolled her eyes. "Alright mum, I'll catch up on my nappies on this uncomfortable-arsed bus," she joked, and slid out of the seat to return to her black leather bus bench. She looked out the window at the half-crest moon, and closed her eyes in thought for pretend relationships and the championship football game.

Eventually she fell asleep.

Well, she fell asleep only to wake up like ten minutes later.

"Yun, wake up!" Coach Katzroy shouted, nudging her shoulder roughly. "You lazy wolf—we're here, Yun!"

"Ergh human flesh ah?" Fang woke up muttering, her green eyes bleary. She shook her head to get off some of the remaining sleep, and flashed a grin at her coach. "Well good mornin' Voodoo Sazh, how can I help ya?"

The black man rolled his eyes. "You can help me by getting off this damn bus and getting ready for the last football game of your high school life, Yun," he replied, patting her shoulder. "I ain't an expert, but sleeping through the championship game won't help our chances of winning." He paused. "As low as those chances already are."

Fang sat up, stretching her body until her bones cracked satisfyingly. "Whatever," she scoffed, sliding out the seat and standing in the bus aisle. "I could thrash these Bodhum mates with my eyes closed—we still had a chance at a guaranteed win even when I was sleepin'."

"Dark Lord Etro be with us," Katzroy rolled his eyes, sighing. "I'm glad you're confident, Yun, but Bodhum ain't nothin' to sneeze at."

"Achoo," Fang replied, rubbing her nose. She smirked, winking at the distressed-looking man. "Just kiddin'! We'll do our best, Coach. I promise to be as not-obnoxious as possible." Her fingers were crossed behind her back as she made this alleged promise, and she knew her coach could tell she was lying because he just laughed.

"Get off this damn bus," Katzroy shooed. Fang flashed one more grin and trotted down the aisle to the bus door and hopped onto the dusty, cracked ground of the Vestige.

The Hanging Edge was a pretty cool place, Fang always thought from the few times she'd been here. It was the only plateau within the horrendously deep valley that separated Pulse and Cocoon, and the bridges between the two towns usually converged on the Edge, as well as most intercity transportation. It was closer to Cocoon than it was to Pulse, but no one really cared since it housed the biggest sports arena the area had to offer, as well as the only mall with a movie theatre. Also, Fang was a really big fan of the whole brimstone and ice stalactites the stadium had going on—really made her feel like she was about to enter a truly hellish existence.

This is going to be awesome, she thought, breathing in the thick sulfur and smoke. Her lips stretched into a malicious grin as she predicted the results of the upcoming soccer game. Bodhum Prep? Bah, sounds weak! Caius and Coach 'ave nothin' to worry about.

Fang looked around the parking lot for her team, and decided to walk to the lobby of the arena to at least buy a bottle of water before she started her pregame exercises.

There's quite a few folks here today, she thought, jogging past the clumps of small crowds that littered the front of the building. She didn't understand why—it was just a high school football game. Maybe they're all really, extremely bored with their lives.

She shrugged. Sounded legit enough.

Stepping into the lobby, she felt relief as she spotted a concession stand. In her excitement, she stepped forward with a bit more force than usual and very nearly body-checked someone into the ground. The impact tingled her shoulder a bit, and she turned around with the most bashful look she had in her arsenal.

"Sorry 'bout that, I—" her eyes widened, and her words were lost on her full lips.

The girl she nearly knocked down straightened her posture to what was probably her usual ramrod straight stature, and she came a couple of inches shorter than the werewolf. She began dusting off her shirt and shorts with a very deep frown, and Fang's eyes followed her pale hands down to her long, mostly bare legs, where the smooth thighs and sculpted calves hinted at an excellent exercise regiment and a killer figure.

She wore standard football cleats, and when Fang's green eyes roved back up to at least try to make eye contact, she did a quick appraisal of the girls fit torso and rather nice bust under a red and white football jersey. Long pink hair fell over one of her shoulders in a odd but equally striking look, and her incredibly gorgeous ice blue eyes were glaring at Fang with a cuttingly severe expression that only made her want to swoon.

"Are you going to say anything or are you going to continue objectifying me?" the girl asked, or rather, demanded very calmly.

Fang blinked, finally snapping out of her gorgeous-overload induced trance. "My apologies, darlin'," she replied, smiling. "I didn't mean to objectify you, though I am glad I did. I'd suppose I was just lookin' for a reason to talk to ya." The smile slowly morphed into a smirk. "'Course, we could always take this conversation elsewhere—"

"First, you should really watch where you are going," the pink-haired girl cut her off, tilting her head back in a manner that was both super condescending and super attractive. Two long, white fangs protruded from under her top lip, and Fang was going through some really mixed feelings right now. She usually hated vampires, but there was something about this girl that made her curious. "And, secondly, no. I would not like to continue talking to you."

The werewolf gaped a bit, but then furrowed her brow. "But you're still talkin' to me," she countered.

"Not willingly," the other girl retorted.

Fang cocked an eyebrow, smirking once more. "This is a pretty willing conversation, sunshine," she replied. Wow, this bloodsucker chick was definitely headed deep into 'sort of a bitch' territory, but she was still hot, so, "But, I'll not keep you since you're clearly in a huge rush."

The vampire looked steadily more annoyed with each passing second. Fang counted it in her little victories. "You must be one of the players from the Pulsian public school," the pink-haired girl stated, giving the werewolf a haughty once over. Fang's blue and black football uniform must have spoken volumes about her affiliation. "You seem like the type."

Okay, and now you are definitely in bitch territory, Fang thought, narrowing her eyes. "You must be one'na those Cocoon prep wimps," she concurred with her usual smirk. "Since you're pretty much the kind of prick those schools make, darlin'."

The vampire rolled her blue eyes. "I don't have time for this," she muttered, walking away. "Werewolves are so obnoxious."

Fang was affronted. "Nobody's too fond of vampires either, sunshine!" she called, and the girl didn't even spare her another look.

The werewolf huffed, frowning at the pink-haired vampire's back before turning back to the concession stand. She walked to the end of the line and fumed a bit while trying to also resist the sheer attraction she got out of that entire altercation.

God I hope she's a bench player, Fang thought, annoyed. I don't want to look at her at all during my championship game.

"Yun!" Coach Katzroy called Fang from across the field, where the girl was leading her teammates in a final stretch and strategy speech. "Get over here, kid!"

"Comin'!" she called, and turned back to Caius, "Make sure you keep everyone up and stretchin'—we need to be pliable as all fuck for this game, Ballad."

"But of course, captain," Caius replied blandly, and she rolled her eyes before running down the field to meet up with their coach.

Coach Katzroy nodded in greeting before putting her hand on the werewolf's shoulder and turning the teenager to the side. She caught a pair of icy blue eyes in her sight, and her heart dropped. "Yun, I want you to meet the captain of the Bodhum Prep Nightmares, Lightning Farron," he said with a smile. Fang couldn't really speak through all the curses and unfortunate scenarios coursing through her head. "Lightning, this is the captain of the Taijin Deathgazers, Fang Yun—hold up," Katzroy furrowed his brow at Lightning's equally displeased expression. "Am I missing something?"

"We've…met," Lightning said carefully, breaking eye contact. "In the lobby, earlier."

"Well it must have been one awkward as hell meeting," Katzroy commented with a small frown. "You two look like you were caught in a bathroom stall together by the authorities. Ladies, do you have any confessions you wanna make before this game?"

"Uh, no," Fang replied, giving her coach a weird look. "Our meeting was perfectly civilized." If we were in the deepest pits of the Netherworld. "Though, tell me, Coach—how'd ya get to know Lightning here anyway?" She looked at the girl, snorting in laughter. "Also, what kind'a name is Lightning anyway? Did ya make that up yerself, darlin'?"

"I did, actually," Lightning said, cocking an eyebrow and crossing her arms. "And, I'm not sure if you're qualified to mock me for my name, Fang. Fang the Werewolf—I honestly don't know if you're a living caricature or just an inside joke gone horribly wrong."

"I will punch out your stupid hot fuckin' face, Lightning—" Fang found herself growling, her hackles raised and her claws growing.

Lightning's eyes flashed and she clenched her fists in her uniform shirt. "You could never even touch me," she hissed.

Katzroy put a hand on both their foreheads, pushing the two captains away from each other with a tired sigh like he was well-versed in the art of teenage girls fighting. As a high school teacher, Fang mused, he might've been. "Ladies, calm yourselves," he instructed. "This isn't very fitting behavior for you two—no, not even you, Yun."

"Thanks," Fang deadpanned.

"And, to answer your question," Katzroy smiled at Lightning, patting her shoulder lightly. "Back when I still lived across the valley in Cocoon, I taught little Farron here the basics of football in the junior leagues. She didn't join her high school football team until last year, but I'm glad to see her kickin' ass to meet us here today in her last year of high school. She's an excellent player, Yun—a real contender for you, wolfie."

"It's nice to see you too, Coach Katzroy," Lightning replied, nodding respectfully. She glared at Fang, though, and uncrossed her arms. "However, the game will start soon, and I need to get back to my team for last minute preparations." She turned away from them, walking down the field with that damn stiff shoulder.

"Good luck, Lightning," Fang yelled with a bit of sarcasm, and Lightning turned back to shoot her with another fierce look.

"Who was that?" the high lilt of her best friend's voice sounded behind her, and Fang turned around to find Vanille looking curiously between her and Lightning's further retreating back. "Your newest victim to your awful flirting?"

Fuck, I can't be that obvious! "No," Fang grumbled. She huffed, rubbing the back of her neck under her thick brown hair. "She's the captain of the Bodhum Pricks, the star of their ranks apparently."

"Oooh," the witch hummed, blinking cutely. A smile bloomed on her face, and she grabbed Fang's arm. "However, speaking of the Nightmares—I'm definitely afraid of my nights without that in my bed!" The red-haired girl pointed down the field, and Fang followed her arm until she caught sight of a fairly short, pale white-haired teenager in the Bodhum Prep football attire gulping a bottle of water. He then held the bottle over his head and poured it down his face, causing rivulets of liquid to make him look almost ethereal.

"What the fuck is he doin'," Fang demanded, utterly confused.

"He's probably a water sprite—that's what they do," Vanille explained. She swooned as he wiped his forehead with a skinny forearm. "But what I would do to get his number…"

"Apparently hose him down," the werewolf said blandly. She shook the girl's shoulder, trying to break her rapt attention to the weird water sprite kid. He looked like he just stepped out of middle school, for evil personified Anima's sake "Anyway, let's get with the team, Van—we've got a game to win."

Fang dared to try another look at Lightning, baring her teeth in annoyance. "Or else."

IV.

The game thirty-three minutes into the second half, and Lightning had long come to the conclusion that Fang Yun was extremely dangerous.

The other captain was calculating, feral, and ferocious on the football field. Where Lightning was unnaturally fast, Yun was teeming with strength. Her bronze skin glowed under the arena lights and the half-moon, and every checked or stolen pass was punctuated with a violent snarl. The Taijin Deathgazers had already accumulated one point within the first ten minutes of the game from a kick that nearly sent Villiers into pieces. It was mostly because nobody was prepared for the team to be so vicious as well as skilled, and Bodhum Prep was hard pressed to keep up in the beginning.

Lightning was, admittedly, very impressed.

Soon, however, she forced herself to stilt the admiration, because she was only here for one reason—to win.

With Kreiss on center defense and Villiers minding the goal, their defense proved strong enough to knock back a couple of the opposition monsters. Lightning kept herself on forward strike and frequented the center circle, often finding herself circling against Yun. They'd made eye contact a few times, those energetic green eyes boring into hers, and Lightning always felt something in her throb as she tried to glare at the other captain. Eventually, the Bodhum Nightmares had gained two points where the Deathgazers also scored another two.

The game had twelve minutes remaining, and the teams were uneven two to three.

Lightning took in a deep breath, focusing herself in the midst of the game. The vampire had yet to actually face off with the werewolf, but she'd seen enough of her teammate's experiences in this game to know that it wasn't a pleasant experience.

Hope, the right winger on offense, was having a tough time dribbling the ball under his feet and dodging the werewolf's strong and nearly successful attempts at steals. A few time the werewolf swiped at him with extended claws and her hand returned soaked in water, which only made Fang more annoyed it seemed.

The water sprite finally made eye contact with her, and she ran forward, praying he'd attempt to pass before Yun tried to eat him.

Hope jerked his foot and the ball to a sudden halt behind him, and quickly kicked the ball towards Lightning in a square pass. Fang growled loudly and dug her cleats into the grass in preparation to launch at the pink-haired girl, but if there was anything that Lightning had under her belt, it was sheer speed.

In a flash, she'd taken off from the left flank in a long dribble, headed towards the Pulsian behemoth of a goalie.

Behind her, she heard a choked snarl and when she became stupid enough to sneak a look, her eyes widened. Yun had launched herself from Kreiss' back, sending the warlock flying with an alarmed shout and Yun right for her, claws out and teeth bared.

Lightning ducked right as the werewolf flew over her, and Yun hit the grass on all fours, her cleats digging into the dirt.

It was then that Lightning realized the throbbing-feeling in her chest was probably her heart, and she had never been so energized by a game—or, if she were being honest, by another person.

"Losin' momentum, sweetheart?" Yun asked, her lips curled in a malicious smirk.

Lightning blinked, the ball tucked under the heel of her cleat. She cracked a small smile, and Yun looked dumbfounded. "We're just getting started," she said, and quickly side-stepped Yun to rear her left leg back and send it in a powerful striking kick that propelled the ball to the Deathgazers' goal like a flaming rocket. The behemoth proved to be too slow to stop it from sinking into the net, and the crowd roared around them.

"GOOOAAAALLL," the announcer, a popular skin walker named Rygdea, roared through the intercom, and most of the people in the stadium winced due to enhanced hearing. "Lightning Farron shocks us all by successfully gettin' a shot past the soccer sentinel Fang! With only seven minutes left in this half, the teams are tied three to three. Both teams are definitely on their way to victory, but only one can win—who will it be?!"

The scoreboard blinked an addition of one point for her team, and Lightning turned to Yun with a smirk. "Sorry," she said, and Yun laughed loudly.

"I'm gonna like this," the tanned girl purred, stretching her long, tightly muscled legs.

The referee, a hell demon introduced in the beginning of the game as Rosch, whistled for the regroup. Lightning trotted back to position as forward striker, and Fang stood opposite her with flexing claws. "Play fair," he warned sternly, and he took a step back. The center line erupted in hellish flames and the earth threatened to crumble at their feet. Spikes of icy stalactite crashed through the ground on the side lines and skewered one of the zombie attendants. The sky threatened to burn a fiery red, and Hope looked like he was going to pass out.

Lightning rolled her eyes—the hellfire was always so unnecessary.

She leapt for the ball, the side of her foot ready to make impact with the black and white football. However, her leg was stopped by a hard calf wrapped in black knee-high socks, and Yun grinned as she kicked the ball to the back of her heel and, switching feet, bounced it a bit atop her shoe.

"I don't think so," she said, and, bouncing it in the air one more time, she reared back and sent it flying down the field with an unbelievably powerful kick. Lightning sneered and pushed the taller girl away from her, shooting down the grass in an effort to catch up with the ball.

A purple-haired gargoyle braced himself to receive the pass, and the ball slammed into his torso with what must have been a lot of momentum. The gargoyle didn't look like he was in pain, but he didn't seem to have much of any expression most of the game, Lightning had noticed.

"Ballad gets the ball off the flank, and spreads his wings—don't tell me he's gonna fly away with the ball!" Rygdea crowed over the intercom. "This game is no damn joke, these high school kids are goin' out for blood in this last half!"

Ballad had spread his wings, and Lightning abruptly decided to regroup and return to the half circle. The gargoyle stretched his wide, black wings back, and he looked to the side towards the middle of Bodhum's side of the field. The vampire spotted a small, petite ghost of a girl playing right midfield looking at Ballad, and the girl nodded.

The gargoyle kicked the ball up, and flapped his large wings to form a huge burst of wind that sent the ball soaring overhead the dumbfounded Cocoonian team and right into the middle of Bodhum's field, next to a winged banshee. The banshee immediately gathered the ball between her feet and dribbled it nearer to the penalty area. Yun ran parallel to the girl, obviously preparing herself for a pass, and the banshee got ready for a forward pass to the werewolf.

"Fuck," Lightning cursed, and decided that there was no way anyone was going to play fair in the last ten minutes of the game. Gathering all her energy in her legs, she opened her eyes and focused on the ball that was milliseconds from leaving the banshee's possession to Yun, and Lightning disappeared.

She reappeared in the middle of the two players, catching the ball on the side of her cleat and taking off with the down the field in multiple long dribbles. She ducked under the angry, snarling Pulsian players and made it to the center line before Yun caught up in a barreling run on all fours. Lightning slid the ball under her heel away from the werewolf, trying to see who she could get a successful pass with—and, of fucking course; Noel Kreiss was waving at her excitedly from his spot near the Taijin's midfield.

Ugh, she thought, and, holding Yun off by throwing herself against the other girl's torso, she sent the ball to the warlock in a harried forward pass. Kreiss ran for the ball, but so did Ballad who must've flown from the other side of the court.

The warlock spotted the gargoyle before he could touch the ground, and yelled out "duratus!" for a white blast to quickly shoot from his fingers, and Ballad was encased in a cold block of ice. Kreiss got the ball within his feet and, with a final grin at Lightning, he ran for the goal in short kicks that substituted his usual careful dribble.

Lightning ran for him, aware that Yun was likely right behind her, zipping past the brawling players and easily catching up and slowing down with Kreiss as they approached the penalty arc. Yun skidded to a stop in front of the goal, taking the position of sweeper seamlessly as she grinned darkly at the two.

"Only fifteen seconds remaining!" Rygdea cried, and everyone started yelling insults and support for whichever team.

Kreiss passed the ball to Lightning, who could feel her heart hammering under her chest with every second. Yun—Fang—stared at her with intense green eyes, and time slowed down between the two captains.

With Fang as their sweeper right now, Lightning thought, her eyes analyzing every object in front of her. It will be nearly impossible to get the ball past both her and the goalie. They've got strength where I'm lacking—but, she narrowed her eyes, clenching her fists. I still have to try.

Lightning jerked the ball to the side of the penalty area, quickly gathering the ball atop her foot and lifting it high into the air. Fang threw herself in front of the rising ball, and Lightning kicked it with as much power as she had in the legs, slipping sideways in the meantime.

The ball zipped through the air, slipping just under Yun's arm as the girl fell to her side, and passing through the space between the goalie's thick legs. It slammed into the net with a burning singe the same time Lightning hit the grass next to Fang, who was looking at the net with wide, shocked eyes. Their chests heaved as they gasped for air, Lightning needing oxygen just to get some energy back. Fang turned to her, and opened her mouth as though she were trying to speak—

"And the Bodhum Nightmares win the Regional Football Championship!" Rygdea shouted, the audience screaming with him. "What an amazin' game folks—those Pulsian kids almost wrecked the Nightmares, but, once again, Lightning saves her team with that freaky vampire speed of hers."

Lightning stared into Fang's eyes, her chest still throbbing. She wanted to reach over the small patch of grass and touch the other girl's glowing bronze face, or to say anything, or to lean in closer.

She felt herself being picked up from the ground, her body rising higher and higher until she was floating in the air.

"Thank you Lightning!" Snow yelled, catching her shoulders in his large hands. The team threw her into the air again, cheering and praising her louder and better than they ever had in the past. "You were freaking amazing, dude!"

Lightning, during a descent back into her teammate's arms, found a smile peeking through her lips, and she felt good.

Fang looked up at her, still seeming entirely shell-shocked, and Lightning remembered her final duty as team captain.

"Let me down," she demanded in a lighter voice than her usual cold tone, and the team took no time in gently letting her down to stand on her own. With her feet safely on the green grass and nobody's hands actively on her body (she had no idea how she even let that happen), Lightning gestured for a path to be made out of the crowd. She walked through her teammates, her cleats hitting the ground with soft falls, and stopped in front of the werewolf.

Lightning held out her hand. "Fang Yun," she said. "You played a great game tonight."

Fang grabbed her hand, standing up with the vampire's minor assistance. "Thanks," she replied, her voice soft and almost wondering. She smiled, her sharp teeth white under the moonlight. "And, you—you were beautiful out there."

Lightning felt her heart beat against her chest one more time before a lot of blood rushed to her face for all of three seconds, and then her faulty vampire heart gave out and she covered her face with spread fingers.

"Well," she muttered, trying to look anywhere but at the other girl. "Uh, I stand by what I said. Have a great night. See you around."

She turned away, stiffly walking to the sidelines and her teammates followed her off the field. When Serah ran to her, screaming congratulations in her ear while wrapping her in a tight hug, Lightning could only smile awkwardly at her sister while still holding her chest.

Vampire hearts weren't supposed to beat like this.

V.

Three nights after that fateful game, Fang was staring at a gate blankly.

Her backpack hung loosely off her shoulder and her hands were buried in the pockets of a pair of gray straight-legged sweatpants. She wore a black tank top that stretched with her chest, from which she found herself feeling a bit chilly in the arms. Ah, she should've worn a jacket today, maybe.

"—ang!" she heard someone yelled, and the werewolf snapped out of whatever trance she was in. "Faaang!"

"Whaaat, whaaaat," Fang whined back, turning away from the fence.

Vanille stared at her from atop her levitating broom, looking overly concerned. "Fang, I was callin' your name for at least five minutes!" she complained, furrowing her brow.

"Sorry darlin'," Fang replied, smiling. "I was just distracted a bit, no worries."

"Distracted by what?" the witch demanded, leaning up to look through the gate. A small garden with a collection of pink flowers sat demurely on the other side, and Fang found herself zoning out again. "Dear dark lord below Anima, this is quite simply the gayest experience I've ever experienced through you, Fang."

Fang blinked turning back to her best friend. "What do you mean by that?" she demanded, arms crossed.

Vanille rolled her blue eyes—which were a nice blue, but not as enrapturing as Lightning's—and started moving her broom forward while she talked. "Ever since that football game that was steaming with sexual tension between you and that pink-haired vampire captain thing, you've been looking out to the stars like some silly human in one of those romantic movies. There was a thunderstorm the other morning and every time lightning flashed I could hear you sighing like a pup all the way from my room. This is getting…lame, Fang," she tried to explain.

"It's not lame and I'm not love-struck," Fang argued. "I'm just…tryin' to analyze the other possible outcomes of the championship in mental theory." Wow, she made up a great save. Not.

"Oh satan's tail, you're making up excuses now," Vanille place the back of her hand atop her forehead, shaking her head dramatically. "My little wolf—she's finally fallen in deep like with a vampire. However, if I remember correctly, all you could say at first was only how arrogant she was and how you wanted to put her down during the game."

"The most arrogant," Fang affirmed with a dreamy smile.

"You have a weird type, Fang."

"Ah, but ya don't understand—she's not arrogant arrogant," the werewolf corrected. She began gesticulating vaguely as she tried to describe this particular personality trait. "She's, ah, puttin' up a front. Y'see, real arrogance wouldn't've helped me from the ground and congratulated my game like she really, truly meant it. Real arrogance wouldn't've smiled at me on the field when she would smile nowhere else. At first, I thought she was kind'of a bitch, but I know a great footballer who loves the sport when I see one. She was gorgeous, Van—both on the field and off."

Vanille grimaced. "Now I feel like some gay love-sick werewolf that found love in a hopeless place," she muttered. The redhead raised her voice, addressing a distracted Fang once more. "Anyway, we need to get to school, Fang—the bell rings at eight PM."

"Huh?" Fang blinked, pulling out her HowlMobile cellular phone. "It's only seven fifty-one—bloody hell it's seven fifty-one—w-wait, Vanille!" she called after the cackling witch that zoomed ahead atop her broom. Fang took off in a run after her, yelling the whole way. "You connivin' witch! Gimme a ride on that damned sweeping contraption! You'll pay for this!"

The werewolf chased her best friend all the way to Taijin High School, where the witch swooped through the doors while still perched on her broom, and hovered above their uninterested classmates' heads until Fang made it to her locker, the werewolf not even out of breath.

"You should'a told me earlier that I was gonna be late," Fang scolded, shaking her hair to retain the usual wild, cool look she went for.

"And let you get a break on this dorky soccer crush?" Vanille scoffed, hopping down from the broom to the linoleum floor. "I'd think not, dear."

Fang bared her teeth in a false threat, and felt a slight touch on her arm in passing.

"Hey Fang," a succubus greeted with a sultry wink, her hand blowing an amorous kiss from red lips.

Fang sent her a distracted wave. "Hey Clarisse," she replied, turning to open her locker. When she felt multiple eyes boring into her very being, she looked around with what must've been an excellent expression of confusion. "What's goin' on?"

"That was the blandest greeting you've ever given her," Vanille commented with a wide smile. An amused glint lit up her eyes. "Oh, you have such a crush."

The werewolf opened her mouth to respond, but eventually decided against countering what was slowly becoming a very true statement.

Fang was developing a crush on a vampire she'd met once, and she had no idea when she'd ever see the girl again.

It had been five days since the championship game and Lightning couldn't stop thinking about Fang Yun.

In the last two years of her playing football for Bodhum Prep, Lightning dealt with a lot of annoyances and issues. Whether it was because she was a girl or because she was a vampire or because she joined the team so late, she got flack from her teammates for a variety of excuses. But, she always reasoned, it was just high school—if she only looked out for herself, then she would be fine without friends. But, she quickly rose as an exceptional player, and got shit from her teammates for that, as well.

Her sister told her that she didn't need to be mean to get respect, but it was working pretty damn well for the older vampire. She treated them like they were idiots, they stopped talking to her. Her teammates continued to talk about her, whether she was in the room or not, and she'd never been invited to a single outing with them. And, adding the fact that most of the team wasn't nearly as skilled with her in the sport, it was becoming harder to enjoy football with every game.

This wasn't to say that everyone on the Nightmares was awful, because she was rather fond of Hope Estheim and could barely tolerate Snow Villiers and Noel Kreiss, but it was easier to treat all her teammates the same by being a bitch. Or, whatever they called her.

She was pretty glad when they made the championship in her senior year of high school, so at least she only had one more game to compete in with the team before she could never see them again.

Then, she bumped into that damned werewolf, and everything went to hell.

Fang annoyed Lightning like nobody ever had in the past. She was a very attractive girl, Lightning would admit if at stake-point; with wild brown hair, bright green eyes, a fit figure and tanned skin. But the girl was flirty, much too laid-back, and all around obnoxious—including her easy admission to objectifying the pink-haired vampire at first sight—and Lightning found it hard to believe someone like her could be the captain of a football team, even if it was a public school football team.

But, now, Lightning only thought about the strength and feral green eyes of the werewolf. The way she tore down the grassy field and the power in her kicks. She gave the vampire a challenge the other girl had never gotten from any other football player in her life, and it was an…experience.

And, in the end, Fang called her beautiful.

Lightning was still glad she was unable to blush for longer than a second, or else she would've attacked the girl just because of all the embarrassment.

She shook her head, trying to expel the thoughts before they got even more embarrassing. It was the middle of the school night, and she had class in ten minutes. And, she was currently trying to understand why her sister was staring at her as she opened her locker.

Six, the pink-haired girl thought with a frown as she entered the lock combination. Six, and—ugh, damn it!

"Stop looking at me," Lightning commanded, turning to her younger sister with a glare.

Serah continued to stare at her. "Claire, we need to talk," the freshman girl said.

Lightning did not like the sound of that. "Talk about what?" she asked, turning back to her locker. "Six…six…six…good." The door popped open, revealing an unsurprisingly organized set up of books and notepads as well as some awkward bloodstains from a few unexpected lunch breaks.

"I think you're having a gay crisis, Claire," Serah said, and Lightning almost had an undead conniption. "It's been a week since you guys won the championship and you've been more standoffish than ever. I saw the way you were looking at that tall werewolf player, how your heart was beating the whole time. So, I think we should really talk about this, just to get it off your chest."

"There is nothing on my chest," Lightning snapped, closing her locker with more force than really needed. The door dented a bit, but that was nothing new. "And I don't have to talk to you about this. Shouldn't you be in class?"

"I wanted to say something before I forgot," her younger sister admitted, smiling. "But I'm totally fine with it! I just want you to be happy and find someone who will make you happy, and if that person's a female werewolf then I'm fine with it, Claire." She winked, and Lightning felt like she was trapped in some awful universe where she had a nosy younger sister. Right, this was real life, of course. "You've got curious taste though, I've got to say."

Lightning stopped to look at the younger vampire incredulously. "I have strange taste?" she repeated. "I'm not the one with the illogical crush on a living ragdoll, or did you forget yourself and this gross, awful thing you have for Villiers?"

Serah tutted, waggling a disapproving finger in her sister's face. "There's nothing strange about my taste at all," she countered. "I just want a guy that's good-looking and great at sewing, like, a guy who could help me fix my dress if anything happened."

"Said nobody ever," Lightning replied blankly. She shook her head, sighing. "I need to get to class, Serah. We can talk about this when I'm dead. Stay out of trouble." She tapped her sister's shoulder and turned away to start for her AP Chemistry class.

"It's okay if you like girls, Claire!" Serah called after her. "Nobody would care—you're like the coolest person ever, anyway!"

"Who likes girls?" the deep baritone of Snow fucking Villiers asked from behind them both, and Lightning ground her teeth as Serah smiled lovingly.

"Claire has a crush on the werewolf girl from the soccer game," Serah stage-whispered. "And I've never seen her get this way about anyone, Snow! I mean, she was in the bathtub for a whole hour yesterday morning listening to a CD full of wolf cries, and then she keeps touching her chest where her heart would be whenever she's near a soccer ball." She sighed, her hands on her hips. "I just want her to know I support her, Snow!"

Villiers looked shocked and appalled that anyone would ever not support Lightning, and Lightning wished she'd never left her house this evening. "Why wouldn't she be supported?" the giant zombie demanded, slapping his clenched fist into an open palm. "I'll beat the crap out of anyone who doesn't support Lightning!"

"Don't talk to people about this," Lightning ground out, trying to even out her wildly erratic feelings. "Especially you, Villiers."

"Oh, bro, of course," Villiers nodded, his face set in a serious expression. He stepped up to the football captain, reaching out a hand to rest on her shoulder. He smiled at her kindly. "And, Lightning, I'll always be right behind you, supporting your digging-girls thing all the way, dude."

Lightning stopped all motion entirely. "I have no idea if your dick is detachable," she started, turning to glare at the zombie slowly. "But I will rip it off of you and put it through a shredder if you do not remove your hand from my shoulder."

Villiers' hand was but a ghost of a feeling in seconds, and the large teenager had also the foresight to take several steps back. "I'll still support you," he said. "But I'll just do it from over here, if that's alright."

"Thank you," Lightning replied, walking forward once more.

Then, she paused, and turned around with a stern look. "Thank you," she repeated, but when Serah and Snow grinned at each other, she knew they understand what she was talking about.

"No problem," Serah said brightly. She winked. "Now, for the next step, you need to go out there and go for the real thing…so I can stop hearing baying wolf cries in the middle of the day."

"That's a weird thing to listen to in the bathtub," Snow admitted.

Lightning rolled her eyes, passionately. "Good bye," she snapped, and continued walking down the hallway.

"Fang, let's go to the grocery store," Vanille said, poking the werewolf in the thigh from where she lounged on her couch in her underwear, her face buried in a plush pillow. "We can knock over the can displays and ride out on my broom while you howl at the moon."

"Mmmrph," Fang mumbled, shaking her head.

Vanille poked her again. "Let's go play ding-dong-ditch at Caius' place and laugh because he's a statue about this time of night anyway and all it does is piss him off."

"Maarghmm."

"Hmm…oh! Let's play soccer—you know how much you love soccer, that game with the kicking and the balls—the soccer balls—"

"It's called football you little jerk," Fang finally removed her face from the pillow, and smacked the redhead's hand away from her thigh. "And why can't I jus' lay on the couch on a Saturday night? Leave me be, Van."

"So gay," Vanille whispered fondly. She cleared her throat. "But, as your best friend and team manager, it is my duty to ensure you stay in tip-top shape, girlie! Which means, no lazin' about! So, get up, we're going to the movies at the Edge!"

Fang groaned. "I don't wanna go to the Edge," she whined. "Everythin' will only remind me of…vampires." Vampires and football and everything beautiful in the world.

"Oh my anti-lord Anima, no it won't," the witch rolled her eyes. "We're going to the movies, or I'm deflating every soccer ball in your bloody backyard and then I'll make them impossible to refill with air." She stood up and walked out of Fang's house through the front door, probably going over to her house to change clothes.

"You'd 'ave a much better argument if you called them footballs," Fang yelled after her, sitting up on the couch. "Because, guess what, soccer is a stupid fuckin' name fer a sport!"

"Get dressed!" Vanille's high voice yelled back at her, and the werewolf grumbled.

Even after all that, Fang threw on a pair of fitted blue jeans with a plain black shirt, and found herself sitting on the train next to Vanille as they sped to the Hanging Edge. The witch kept talking to her about a variety of things (cauldrons, newts, high fashion, water sprites, etc.) and the werewolf replied when prompted, but she couldn't help but want to be laid out on the couch eating raw steak while she watched football on channel seven. There was a vampire playing earlier today, and, while the bloodsucker was nothing in comparison to Lightning, Fang was still caught up in her usual desire to see the girl again.

"The next and last stop is—Hanging Edge," the train announced through screechy speakers. "Transfers to Cocoon bound trains available in the East Terminal. Have a great day." The train came to a shaky halt inside the station, and Vanille stood up excitedly.

"I'm so excited," she squealed, pulling her best friend up by the forearm. "Oh, I've wanted to see the rerelease of Satanic for so long!"

Fang did not want to see that movie in any capacity. "I dunno Van," she groaned. "You've already seen it a good thousand times on the VCR. We don't need to see it in theatres."

Vanille scoffed, leading her through the station towards the mall entrance on the far north, away from the trains. "Please, we must see it on the big screen!" she exclaimed. "It'll be in high definition, with a new and improved soundtrack. Fang, you'll love it."

"I'd love t' see any movie but this," Fang muttered, and yelped when the witch elbowed her in the stomach. "Yikes! I'm just sayin' what's on my mind! This is a free country, if I don't wanna see some shit romance flick about an iceberg that destroys one'na the devil's vessels, I just think I shouldn't be forced t' see it." This rant continued well into them entering the mall, and as they walked through the mall, and even when they entered the lobby for the movie theatre, Fang was on a roll. "And, another thing, why hasn't that lead actor bloke won an award if this movie's so great, huh? I'm jus' sayin', Van, he wasn't that good in Lucifer plus Gabriel—"

"When you want me to regret bringing you somewhere," Vanille grumbled. "You really go in with your efforts."

Fang smirked. "It's a gift," she said.

Her ears picked up on the sounds of a struggle, a sound she was pretty familiar with at this point. "This director isn't even that good," the struggler argued, her low, rich voice somewhat familiar. "Better yet, I didn't even want to come here."

"I forgot how excited you were to get out Full Moon Tunes Volume Three and stew in your love emergency," the struggler's captor replied, the sarcasm thick in her voice.

Fang laughed. "Man, is that your kidnapping twin or somethin', Van?" she joked, turning around. Her smile dropped as soon as she caught sight of long pink hair and those bitingly entrancing blue eyes. She looked a bit different in jean shorts and a white v-neck, but that was definitely Lightning Farron staring back at her. "Holy shit."

Vanille looked pretty surprised herself. "What a pleasant surprise!" she exclaimed, pulling Fang's arm. "It's the object of your torrid affections!"

"What—"

Lightning stood there, looking just as shocked as Fang did, and what must've been her smaller vampire clone or little sister laughed like this was all a huge joke.

"This is great!" Tinier Lightning enthused, patting her sister's arm. "Guess you can put Now That's What I Call Lycan Cries away—"

"Serah," Lightning bit out, covering her face. "Please."

Serah blinked, her hand still touching her sister's pale arm. "Oh," she looked at Fang, and her smile widened. "Oh. Oh, I see, you want to be…alone…"

Lightning looked alarmed. "What?! Serah, no, I—"

"Whoa!" Serah exclaimed, pulling her phone out of her pocket. She tapped the screen, making a pseudo-distressed face that exposed her long fangs. "Oh man, just got a text from Snow to hang out with him and Hope in the food court. Sorry Claire, I can't brush this off, I need to hang out with them right now."

Vanille shoved Fang none too softly towards Lightning, and she damn near teleported to Serah's side with a wide grin. "Oh, geez, I should probably join her—y'know how dangerous these malls can be with just one teenage girl wandering about aimlessly. By the way, 'ello Serah, I'm Vanille." She held out a hand to the vampire, and Serah shook it confidently with a bright "Nice to meet you!"

They turned towards the door, giggling like the little monsters they were, Fang noticed. "Text you later, Claire," Serah said to Lightning, and the two were gone.

The movie lobby now consisted of basically Fang, Lightning, and some goblin employees. This already had the capacity to be super awkward.

Lightning sighed, rolling her eyes. "Well, since I'm already here," she muttered, stepping closer to Fang. She looked into the werewolf's eyes with crossed arms, looking super standoffish and no-nonsense and Fang felt herself falling so much deeper in like. "Do you want to see a movie?"

"Do I!" Fang grinned, wrapping an arm around Lightning's shoulder without thinking. "Y'see, Van brought me here because I was goin' through a bit of a thing—not a werewolf thing, the moon is on Wednesday—and she wanted us to see Satanic, but no thank you, not this Yun."

Lightning had tensed a bit (a lot) when the werewolf first touched her, but she slowly relaxed a little bit. At least, she didn't break Fang's arm in three places, which seemed more likely than her letting it just happen, actually. "Serah wanted to see Satanic too," she admitted, and scoffed. "I don't."

"Then we'll just have to find a movie we both like," the werewolf replied wisely. Her face lit up, feeling excitement pool in her stomach. "Oh, there's that new football movie that's out. I forget the title, but surely it's got to be great."

"I'll watch it," Lightning said with a shrug. The werewolf's arm was still wrapped around her shoulders, bronze fingertips resting on her white bicep.

Fang grinned. "Then it's a date," she promised.

END.

i haven't written a one shot in at least two years please forgive my indiscretions

i just rly love fang/lightning. it's a solid OTP of mine. very solid, very chill. i also hate every sport but i hate soccer just a little less. writing the soccer scene was pretty fun tho especially when monsters started fuckin it up heavy, i was like aw bruh i'd be so pissed if i were in this game

i love monsters and i love modern high school AUs so this was my penultimate plot-device and i am glad i got thru it (especially since i ended up on a website about Satanism towards the end to get a better understanding for demons and that was about the time i decided it was time for this fic to come to a close)

i hope you dudes enjoyed reading it as much as i dug writing it. have a radical 2013 bros!

antichrist brown (my last words)