An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
note: im back in the fucking building again. this has a potential second chapter that would up the rating to explicit so lemme know if yall want that (ill prob do it no matter what) dont forget to check ao3 for more detail tags/warnings!
summary: The final blood bag in Zanka's stash ran out last week. He finds himself on the edge of a polluted zone— far from anything living.He's supposed to be anyways.There's still the scent of blood following him. This one is different from the others— blended with the smell of chemicals. One that he knows.
warnings: uhh not nsfw but not sfw either, vampire zanka/human jabber, biting, making out, minor bloodplay, minor choking, jabber being freaky as hell
4084 words
fic under the cut
Blood isn't exactly easy to come across on the ground. Zanka's learned to make do with what he has.
It wasn't always like that. With the hell guard being run by vampires, the blood supply had to be consistent. And his family never cared for the willingness of the donors. So he had never gone hungry.
Not until the well.
That was the first time Zanka got the taste of true hunger. He bit the inside of his mouth raw by the second day.
He hasn't lived a second without hunger since then. The cleaners were caring and tried their best to supply him, but they couldn't help that there simply wasn't enough. So Zanka learned to live with it, ignore the way his body craved for more— spreading the blood across days to keep him satiated.
This time was different.
The blood loss he had suffered in the trash beast did a number on him, as well as their blood supply. The cleaners were spread thin, which meant fewer people stopping to donate. Enjin and Riyo had both already given him blood twice this month, and he couldn't bring himself to ask for more. He could handle it— he always did. So he brushes off the worried looks they give him as he becomes more irritable, his skin paler.
The final bag of his stash ran out last week.
Zanka's walking to the training grounds, he needs to do something to settle the ache in his bones. Lovely is humming in his hands, happy at the prospect of being active again. He goes to turn the corner and freezes. The smell of blood rushes over him— he has to cover his nose with his hand with how thick the scent is. Drool is pooling in his mouth, fangs itching.
A person turns the corner, nearly bumping into him— it's Tamsy. He's holding his hand under his nose, currently catching the blood pouring out of it.
It's bright red dripping off of his hand, the light from the windows making each drop shine.
He has to leave.
Zanka passes a number of people while trying to escape, each encounter making him feel more restless. He can smell the blood under their skin and is barely holding himself back from biting into the next thing he sees.
Seimu looks up as he rushes out the doors, but she doesn't stop him, so he doesn't pay her any mind.
Anywhere without people will do.
He finds himself wandering for a while, the ache in his bones growing heavier. His skin feels too tight for his body— the tape pulled across his chest only making the sensation more severe. His fangs have stopped itching at the very least. Zanka's on the edge of a polluted zone now— far from anything living.
He's supposed to be anyways.
There's still the scent of blood following him. This one is different from the others— blended with the smell of chemicals. One that he knows.
He looks up and Jabber is sat a top of a trash hill. Zanka's teeth click together. His lucky day.
Jabber is swinging his legs back and forth, long locs blowing around in the wind. He's staring off into the distance— distracted and unusually calm.
Anima gathers around Lovely as she grows and Jabber's eyes finally drift to meet his.
"Look who it is!" He's grinning down at him, legs still dangling. "Good timmin' on your end, Mr. Bad Attitude-" he jumps down from his perch, landing in a squat as his eyes begin to glow.
"Was just startin' to get bored~" Mankira's blades extend from her rings and Jabber rushes forward— Zanka blocks with Lovely just in time. Mankira is in her smaller form, not that he expects her to stay like that for long. He grits his teeth and Jabber's smile only grows.
Zanka shoves him back and swings Lovely's arch at his head. Jabber jumps out of the way and Zanka follows— not giving him a second to rest. He needs to end this as fast as possible. He doesn't have long, he can feel it. His muscles respond a second too late and his hands shake where they hold Lovely's staff.
One of her spikes tear through Jabber's shoulder as he dodges the main blow and Zanka bites through his own cheek to keep from pouncing on him.
"Try to stay up a little longer this time, yeah?" Mankira grows around Jabber.
Zanka can barely bring himself to move away fast enough. The dodge leaves his balance unstable, stumbling back to avoid another swipe of her large claws. Her metal shines as it cuts through the air, inches away from his skin.
Jabber's biting at his lip as he slashes at him with her blades. Just as relentless as he's always been. Zanka can feel his body lagging behind— Mankira cuts through the fabric of his jacket, only barely missing the flesh underneath. He manages to swing Lovely's staff into Jabber's side and he flies into a pile of concrete. The smell of blood invades Zanka's senses as Jabber crawls out from the rubble. The man himself unbothered by his obvious injuries, rushing back in and whipping Mankira's blunt edge around to slam against Zanka's ribs.
He slides back, gritting his teeth at the pain and Jabber follows him again.
Jabber tackles him to the floor— Zanka's head slams against the ground, hairline growing sticky with his own blood. Lovely tumbles out of his shaky grip. Their scents combined is making Zanka dizzy— trying to keep Jabber from stabbing through his chest takes every ounce of strength he has left.
They wrestle back and forth, only ending when Zanka finally manages to kick him off. Jabber slides back from the force and Zanka grabs Lovely, using her as a crutch to stand. The air is thick with blood, both his own and Jabber's. His knees feel weak, his body weighed down by nothing. Zanka's teeth are digging into his tongue, trying to hold on to his last bit of restraint.
He can't lose.
Zanka's hand tightens around Lovely's staff as Jabber leaps back towards him. He spins Lovely around his fingers and redirects Mankira as she goes to stab through him once again. He hits Jabber's ribs with her blunt end and ducks when Mankira aims at his head. Zanka follows with a swing aimed at Jabber's already injured shoulder.
He moves out of the way just in time— Lovely's spikes catching the fabric of Jabber's hoodie instead. The edge of his collar tears as he leaps back, letting the distance between them grow. Zanka knows he won't stay far for long, so he takes the chance. He adjusts his grip on Lovely and as Jabber goes to charge again- he throws her.
She cuts through the air like it's nothing at all and Jabber freezes. He watches as she flies towards him— lets her take him down. The dust settles and he stays on the ground, Lovely's arch stabbed deep in the dirt around his chest. Zanka's nails dig into the palms of his hands.
Why isn't he getting up?
Why did he let Zanka catch him?
Jabber's fingers twitch and Mankira deactivates. Zanka eyes widen, he can't believe it— he just watched Jabber give up. He could've gotten out easily.
Why didn't he?
Zanka's jaw is clenched as he walks over, tearing Lovely out of the floor and tossing her to the side. He drops his weight on top of him and Jabber's eyes follow Lovely as she hits the floor. Zanka wants to rip them out.
"The fuck ya' layin' there for? Fight back!" The ache in his ribs makes each word burn as they leave his chest.
Jabber still won't look at him.
"…Nah. Ya' actin' all weird. Ain't no fun beatin' ya' if ya' can't go all out."
Zanka snarls and his hand grabs at Jabber's collar, pulling him off the ground and his eyes move towards him, scanning Zanka'a face before landing on his mouth. Jabber's eyes widen and he's grinning up at him again.
"Oh shit!" His arms shoot up, aiming to prod at Zanka's teeth, " I've read 'bout all ya' before, but man! It's a whole other thing to see those teeth in person!" The sudden movement makes blood leak out of Jabber's fresh wounds and Zanka is made crudely aware of just how close he is to them.
He's drooling.
He notices too late, the hand once wrapped around Jabber's hoodie rushing to cover his mouth. Jabber's arms freeze midair and his grin damn near splits his face in half.
"That's why ya' all off!" He tilts his head to the side, his torn collar leaving his skin only blocked by his choker.
"Ya' starvin' ain't ya'?" There's blood dripping from Jabber's nose, running in a line down his chin before pooling on his neck. Zanka's fangs ache at the display.
The hand covering his mouth only tightens.
Jabber rolls his eyes, "Cmonn~ take a bite outta me!" One of his arms reach up, aiming to pull the hand off of Zanka's face. "Bet it hurts like hell!" The way Zanka's looks down at him makes Jabber rub his thighs together— maybe Zanka will be real nice and tear a chunk outta him.
Zanka lets him pull the hand from his mouth.
"I oughta' rip yer throat out. Keep ya' from botherin' me." Jabber's eyes widen and he laughs, his locs are spread out around him. It's too pretty a sight for the situation.
"Ya' really know how to treat a guy, don't ya'?" Jabber licks at the trail of blood running down his face. "Not gonna make it to the whole biting thing if ya' keep sweet talkin' me~" Zanka grimaces and Jabber's eyes fall right back to his teeth. They've grown since the last time he looked at them— edges sharper.
Jabber's hands drift back up to his face, slowly this time. Zanka frowns at him as they come closer, but doesn't stop him like he should. Jabber's fingers reach his mouth and one of his hands dig into his jaw to keep it open, the other brushing against Zanka's fangs. He presses his thumb into the sharp point, unbothered when it pierces the skin. Zanka freezes as the blood drips down— landing on his tongue. Dirt gathers under his nails as he attempts to maintain some semblance of control. Jabber's fingers run across the rest of his teeth, smearing the blood throughout. Zanka feels Mankira brush against the inside of his mouth, she feels cold against the warmth of his skin. A fierce reminder of what Jabber could do if he so wished.
Jabber's fingers leave his mouth, only connected by a line of saliva. It's pink— tainted by the blood on his thumb. Zanka's tongue runs across his blood-soaked teeth, and Jabber raises an eyebrow.
"Ya' gonna keep sittin' there or are ya' gonna take whatcha want?" Zanka watches as his arms drop to his side, neck still tilted to the side.
One of Zanka's hands grab Jabber's chin, keeping his neck pulled taut and the other tugs at his choker— tossing it to the side when it unlatches.
"Ya' do anythin funny and 'm leavin' ya' like this." Zanka's glare pierces into him and Jabber bites at his bottom lip, putting his hands up in defense.
"Wouldn't dream of it baby~" He really wouldn't— the opportunity is far too good to pass up, but testing the limits of what Zanka will put up with is always his favorite. The nickname gets Zanka to dig his nails a little harder, but he's not backing out— only inching closer to Jabber's neck.
Zanka's fangs extend even further as the near skin, aching to stab into him right this time. The tips breach through and Jabber has to use every bit of willpower not to shudder. They sink in slowly, small drops of blood leaking out of the puncture wounds. Then he finally bites down properly.
Jabber groans as the rest of the teeth close in around his neck.
Fuck.
It hurts just as bad as he thought it would.
Zanka really could rip his throat if he wanted— just dig his teeth in a little further and pull. Jabber nearly cums in his pants at the idea.
Zanka hasn't bitten anything living in years, the feeling is unlike anything else. Jabber's blood tastes spoiled— like there's something undeniably wrong with it. He can't bring himself to stop drinking. It's addicting.
Zanka can feel the ache in his body start to reside, but he doesn't pull away like he would with anyone else. His teeth tear deeper and Jabber lets out what sounds like a moan. Zanka can't find it in himself to care. Hand drifting from his hold on Jabber's face and moving to prod at the edges of the bite mark he's making. More blood leaks from the wound and his teeth slowly retract. Jabber feeling each movement as they drag out of his skin. Zanka licks at the final drops of blood that pool on top of the bite before sitting up.
Zanka's tongue runs across his lips and Jabber's eyes are drawn to the way his own blood is spread over Zanka's mouth, hand having left his neck to wipe at the excess. He can't help but wonder how it tastes.
Jabber's throat feels dry—his face warm despite the blood loss. He's dripping in his pants and part of him is still hoping Zanka will dig his fangs back in to really rip his throat out this time.
Zanka wants to bite him again.
The other side of his neck looks too clean, contrasting heavily with the area he just left. The craving only feels stronger now that he's got a taste. He's too hot— sweat beading on his forehead as his tongue licks at the inside of his mouth, searching for any blood still on his teeth. Jabber's blood is nothing like what he gets at the cleaners; fresh, warm and horribly tainted.
He's so screwed.
Jabber is clearly giddy underneath him, breathing heavy with his lidded eyes still locked on Zanka. He trails his hand back to Jabber's neck, digging his nail into the bite just to watch him flinch. The other goes back to it's place on Jabber's face. Zanka tugs him to the other side and he lets him.
He giggles as Zanka leans over his neck once again, "Can't get enough of little old Jabber, huh?"Zanka mumbles— not bothering to lift himself to answer, "Ya' taste like shit."
Jabber snorts, but he's quickly cut off when Zanka digs his teeth back in. The urgency has left his body so he sinks them in deliberately— the slow drag of his fangs pulling more sounds from the body beneath him. Blood floods his mouth and he tightens the grip on Jabber to keep him still.
Jabber seems determined to do otherwise— muscles tensing under Zanka's hand and twitching whenever he draws blood from the wound. His breathing is stuttered and his hands are grabbing on to Zanka's legs with all their strength. He can feel the imprints of Mankira through his clothes, her metal having become hot to the touch.
Zanka moves his hand to the back of Jabber's scalp, pulling at the roots of his hair instead. Jabber makes another noise, muffled by the way his own teeth are dug into his lip. Zanka resets his focus on the warmth running through Jabber's veins. The taste of his blood coats Zanka's throat as he finally unlatches— clear marks left in his absence. The deep fang punctures are still leaking blood, the rest of his teeth indents not far behind. They're bruised and most likely sore to the touch. He tightens his hold on Jabber's hair as he admires the red smeared across his neck. His eyes are drawn away from it when Jabber speaks.
"Careful Zan-Zan ya' gonna give me the wrong idea tuggin' on my hair like that."
Jabber's grin is prominent on his face, but the edges have relaxed. His nose has stopped bleeding, but there's fresh blood puddling on his skin. It takes a second for Zanka to realize it's his— the wound on his head is still dripping. A drop falls near Jabber's lips and his tongue leaves his mouth to taste it.
Zanka's stills and Jabber takes the chance to pull him forward by his jacket. Dragging their faces close before licking at his own leftover blood spread across Zanka's lip. His grip on Jabber's hair falters before he surges forward, lips clashing against each other's with little restraint. Jabber is quick to respond, licking at the inside of his mouth, the taste of iron spreading between them both.
He can feel something metal in Jabber's tongue— its running against the roof of his mouth and he pulls at it with his teeth. Jabber cries out, Zanka can't tell if it was from pain. His teeth leave the metal, but he doesn't give Jabber a chance to catch his breath— the hand not buried in his locs moving to press on his throat. Jabber's breath hitches and his heels dig into the dirt. His arm is grabbing at Zanka's— not to stop him, but to get him to tighten his grip.
Zanka's fangs tug at his already sensitive lip when Jabber pulls away to get what little air he can.
"Tryin' ta' eat me alive now?" His voice is rough and both of his hands are around Zanka's arm now, seemingly stuck between the natural instinct to pull it off and the want to have it push down harder. The pressure against the bite marks must hurt, the wounds are still raw.
He watches as Zanka leans back down, licking at the indent his teeth left on his lip. Jabber decides to take it as permission to shove their mouths back together.
Their lips meet again and Zanka wastes no time diving into Jabber's mouth, trying match what he did with his tongue. He brushes delicately against the metal he found earlier and one of Jabber's hands grab at the back of his head— pulling him even closer. He's doing his best to keep the two of them pressed together, eager to be in contact with as much of Zanka's skin as he'll let him.
It's Jabber who bites at his lip when he pulls away this time, digging in deep enough to draw blood. As if they didn't have plenty covering their skin already. He's still held down by the hand around his neck, keeping him from chasing Zanka's mouth properly.
The evidence is still fresh on the corners of his lips. They're raw from the biting and smeared with red. Zanka can't imagine he looks much better. The hand tangled in Jabber's hair shifts— wiping at the blood flaking off his cheek. The sudden change makes Jabber look at him strangely.
"Ya' still hungry?" The hand still on Zanka's thigh finally moves, deciding to match the one wrapping around his neck instead. "Ya' can lick it off my face, I ain't gonna stop ya'."
Zanka turns his head away, "Fuckin' freak."
"Ooo~ look whose bad attitude is back!" Jabber tilts his head at him. "Feelin' more like yourself now?"
He's right.
As much as Zanka loathes to admit it, this is the most full he's been in years. There's nothing buzzing in the background— aching to feed. It's quiet, his senses feel sharper. Something in him is settled.
Jabber seems to take his silence as a yes because his grin is back, damaged lips stretched across his face. One of his fingers brush against Zanka's blood-soaked hair, before reaching over next to them.
"The hell ya' doing?" Zanka watches as he smears the blood he gathered on the previously discarded choker before he turns back and tugs at his wrist. Zanka can't bring himself to stop him. Jabber drags his hand up to his mouth, running his still bleeding tongue across his choker.
Zanka is quick to pull it away, "Gross! Don't fuckin' lick it."
Jabber laughs and puts his arms back around his neck, "Ya' can chew on me all ya' want, but I can't lick your choker? Real interestin' standards there Zan-Zan."
Zanka frowns at him, which just makes him laugh harder— so he digs his fingers into Jabber's bruised ribs. He hisses and bites at his bottom lip."Ya' keep messin' with me and I'll start to think ya' want a second round!"
Zanka scoffs, "As if. Ya'd pass out if I drank anymore from ya'." Jabber's smile falls for a second before quickly reforming.
"We shou-"
"Not gonna fight ya' either. Like ya' said, it ain't fun beatin ya' if ya' can't go all out." Jabber pauses for a second before sighing, almost dreamily.
"Man… ya' really are perfect for me ain't ya'?" Zanka's face flushes and he's about to push his fingers harder into Jabber's ribs when a sound comes from beside them.
"Ahem."
Zanka tenses at the swirling manhole behind her, but she seems only mildly annoyed by his presence. He shoots up to his knees with Jabber following closely— thanks to the arms still looped around his neck. You'd think he would get the hint and let go, but he seems unbothered by their guest.
"Hey 'thoni!" The woman sighs.
"Answer your choker next time. The boss has a mission for you."
"Yeah, yeah." Jabber finally moves his arms off him and Zanka moves to the side so he can stand. He dusts himself off, going to walk towards Cthoni but stopping suddenly. He ducks down instead— pressing his lips against Zanka's cheek. Quickly standing back up and jogging towards the portal.
Zanka hand lifts to his face.
What the fuck.
Jabber turns back to wave obnoxiously, "See ya Zan-Zan~ Don't forget to call me!" The woman shoves him through the portal so he can't say anything else. She spares a glance back at Zanka, but it only elicits another sigh out of her before she enters the pool of swirling colors. The manhole disappears from sight and Zanka stays frozen.
His soon-to-be spiral is interrupted by the tainted choker on his wrist coming to life.
"Yoo~ Zanka you there?" It's Riyo. "You anywhere near Mono? Enjin's driving me back from a job."
He moves his hand from his cheek, "'Yeah 'm here." He glances up to his surroundings. "Prolly a few minutes out from there, by some collapsed buildings."
"M'kay-" The line cuts, and not long after the sound of an engine grows closer. He takes it as a sign to finally get himself off the ground, reaching for Lovely and brushing the dust off her. He was too careless— he oughta give her a proper cleaning when they get back.
The first thing he sees when he looks up is Riyo half hanging out the window with a hand shading her eyes. She's looking around dramatically calling out his name.
He flicks her forehead, "'M right here."
"Ow! So mea- DAMN!" Her hands are still shielding her forehead but both her eyes and jaw are wide open. Enjin shouts a 'Language' from the front seat before Zanka puts it together.
He's a fucking idiot.
"Holy shit. Who did you murder??" His clothes are torn, covered in dirt and drying blood. There's probably still some on his face. The hour walk back would have been a much smarter idea.
Too late now.
He opens the door and Riyo nearly tumbles onto the ground before scooting over to make room.
She speaks again as he slides into the car, "Okay new angle, were you mauled by a rabid animal?"
"Please stop talking."
She opens her mouth, but Enjin interrupts whatever she's going to say next.
"I'm sure it's not that ba-" He looks up from the road, glancing at them through the rearview mirror and Zanka knows he's fucked. "DAMN!" Riyo mumbles a 'Language' next to him that he cannot bring himself to pay any attention to.
Enjin's fingers are tapping against the steering wheel, "So, uhhh… you okay, kid?"
Zanka's hands tighten around Lovely, "'M fine."
Enjin nods and his eyes drift back to the road ahead.
Zanka's blessed with a few minutes of peace before he speaks again.
"You didn't kill anyone, right?"
Riyo cackles and Zanka groans loudly, dropping his head into his hands.
zanka when jealous is a lot more violent than jabber when jealous
with jabber he gets all snappy and overwhelmingly clingy. wont leave him alone and when zanka asks for space or something jabber immediately accuses him of wanting to be with whoever he was jealous of
zanka when jealous is legit just him being a mental spiral away from killing jabber,said person hes jealous of,and possibly himself.
The only reason I started shipping janka in the first place is because I find it hilarious. Like imagine being Zanka with all your insecurities, and the only guy who wants you, who's obsessed with you, is JABBER WONGER (who freestyled over your paralyzed tweaking body). It's so funny
I'm a big fan of Janka ending up strangely functional, like when they're both so bizarre, violent, and mentally ill at each other that they come out the other side. And part of that is that I am, at heart, a sap and I like to torment my blorbos but I also like when they end up happy.
And the other part is that it's extremely funny to me to envision that people have been searching for a way to fix Zanka's personal problems for years. But somehow the only thing that's really, truly made a difference and gotten him to find the long term will to live is getting him a Raider companion and letting them fight each other like feral animals. Nothing else works. Literally just this. And it keeps Jabber busy enough that he does less crime!
Win/win, except for the part where Akuta has to live with this forever now.
tangentwithtanner
andulkaphoto
