# Fang-Anon Bodyswap

Title: Fang-Anon Bodyswap
Status: Complete
Characters: Anon, Fang, Naser, Trish, Reed
Rating: SFW
Classification: One Shot
Author: SurpriseVisitor
Summary: Anon wakes up in Fang's body and Fang wakes up in Anon's. Fang takes the opportunity to pull a prank that would normally be impossible.
​
I scrunch my face and stretch my limbs as the final afterthoughts of some bizarre dream involving sprouting wings and flying fade into the background of my mind. A breathy groan escapes me as I blink the sleep from my eyes, sitting up straight in my bed. I stretch again, raising my arms high into the air, and a familiar ‘vhwoomp’ of feathery wings unfurling sounds from behind me. I look over to my beautiful pterodactyl girlfriend laying beside me, and I do not see my beautiful pterodactyl girlfriend laying beside me. I see a bald human laying beside me. A dashingly handsome bald human, but a bald human my pterodactyl girlfriend is not.
Where is my pterodactyl girlfriend? A panicked scream threatens to emerge from me, but I force it down with some effort. This is just another one of Fang’s pranks. Screaming means I lose. I chuckle to myself, having narrowly avoided an embarrassing defeat. I start to reach over to the human costume, but hesitate. What if it’s just a mannequin? I can’t counter-prank a mannequin, I’d look like an idiot for trying. I look closer, and see the rising and falling of its sides. We’re in the clear, counter-prank is a go.
I reach over towards Fang in a human costume, my pale blue arm and black claws hovering inches from them. Why was my arm pale blue? Why did I have black claws? I pull my hand back and thoroughly inspect it, flexing the fingers and poking the tips of the claws. It’s definitely my hand, but it’s not a hand I remember having. I glance at the pair of angelic wings on full display behind me. I brush the hand through its feathers, feeling the fingers trace through it’s folds. My fingers. On my wings. The wings lightly flap once, the previously unknown joints and muscles feeling distressingly normal. I look down at my black top and...oh my fucking God.
I tear myself out from under the covers and rush into the bathroom and to the mirror. A panic-stricken Fang looks back at me from inside the mirror. I raise a hand to my face and the Fang inside the mirror does the same. I run my hand across my gargantuan snout and the Fang inside the mirror does the same. I press my hand against the mirror and the Fang inside the mirror does the same. There is no Fang inside the mirror. Just me.
The urge to scream fills me a second time, but I force it down again. There’s no need to panic, this is just a dream. A weird, incredibly lucid dream. A weird, incredibly lucid dream where I can physically control limbs and feel body parts that I’ve never had before and would have no possible frame of reference for. Just a dream. I look down again at my black top and…oh my fucking God.
“Anon!” A scared, confused and distinctly masculine voice calls from the other room.
“Yeah?” A scared, confused and distinctly feminine voice responds from my mouth. Feet hit the floor and rush over to the bathroom door, that dashingly handsome human from before throwing the door open. It’s like I’m looking into a mirror, but that can't be the case because the mirror is on the wall to my right, not panting in the middle of the bathroom in front of me. He slides over next to me, gripping the sinktop and staring into the mirror along with me. We stare together, at each other but not at each other because we were each other and not ourselves. I think.
“I’m dreaming, right?” I ask.
“No. I’m dreaming,” I respond. No, wait, that’s my voice, but not my words.
“What? No. How can you be dreaming if I’m dreaming?” I rebut. We looked at each other like the other one of us was an idiot.
“Fine then, pinch me,” I- he demands.
“What? No, you pinch me,” I counter. We stare at each other, unmoving and unwilling.
“What if we’re both dreaming?” I ask.
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Does any of this make any sense?” I wildly gesture to myself. He grumbles in response. We return to inspecting ourselves in the mirror, hands brushing across our new features. Snout, crest, tail, weird elbow feathers, and...oh my fucking God.
…
I have boobs. And not disgusting man titties either; actual, female breasts. Modest breasts, but breasts nonetheless. I bring a hand to my chest, only to have it swatted away by Fang’s- no, Anon’s- no, Fang-Anon’s hand.
“Don’t play with my boobs, you fucking perv,” he demands.
“Oh, now it’s a problem? You weren’t saying that...hey, wait. These aren’t even fucking yours! They’re mine!”
“I don’t care, we’re not doing this shit. Would you want me to start playing with your dick right now?” Before I can deploy a cheeky response, the phone in my pocket buzzes.
“Oh fuck,” Fang says quietly. With my voice. “That’s gotta be Naser. He’s gonna want me back today. He’s gonna want you back today.”
“Oh, well that..oh...fuck.” The realization dawns on me far later than it should have. I pull the phone out and turn the screen on, blankly staring at the password screen for a moment.
“Four ones,” Fang comments. I input the password I definitely didn’t know before just now and a notification pops up on the screen. Naser did in fact want Fang back later today.
“Uh, what are you gonna tell him?” I ask tentatively.
“What am I gonna tell him? What are you gonna tell him? You’re Fang.”
“Whoa whoa whoa, no, no no no, I did not sign up for this shit. He’s still your brother. You are not sending me back with your brother, to your house, with your parents. That is a disaster waiting to happen.”
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
“I wake up in your bed as me, your dad turns my skull into an impromptu golf ball, and the rest of me is buried in six different counties.”
“Alright, alright, whatever. We gotta come up with something, cause I don’t think Naser or dad are gonna take ‘no’ for an answer this time around.”
“Well...what would you normally do in this situation?”
“Tell Naser to fuck off, and hope he does.” Fuck it, guess I’ll give it a shot.
I open the messenger app, navigate to Naser’s entry and begin typing out a message.
‘Any chance we could move that to tomorrow? Some stuff has kinda come up.’ Almost immediately, a symbol indicating Naser’s incoming response appears.
‘What kind of stuff?’
‘Important stuff.’ A few seconds pass without an indication of a message being prepared, then the phone starts buzzing wildly. Naser was not content with text and is calling me directly.
“It’s all you now, Anon. Fang. You.” Fang-Anon’s voice did not calm me one bit. I swipe the answer icon, and put the phone to my ear-hole...thing.
“Fang? Is everything alright?” Naser’s concern for both himself and me were obvious.
“Yup! All good here!” I hope my anxiety wasn’t obvious in my voice.
“Are you sure?” Naser’s voice lowers and he whispers through the phone. “Do you need me to call the cops?”
“What? No, no. I promise, it’s alright.”
“Then what’s so important?”
“I...well...you see…”
“You know dad’s not going to take any old excuse, right?”
“Yeah, I know, it’s just...uh…you know, I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you.”
“Fang, that’s not...wait. Please don’t tell me you’re pregnant.” My eyes bug out at the idea that Naser even thought this was a possibility. Actually…
I glance over to Fang-Anon, and he’s wildly shaking his head, doing a cut-throat motion, and mouthing ‘no’ over and over again. Okay, bad idea, got it.
“No, holy shit, Fa...I am not fucking pregnant, Naser.
“Are you sure?”
“YES!”
“Alright, alright, but what the hell am I going to tell dad?”
“Man, I don’t know...like...fucking...I think you need to see this for yourself.” Fang-Anon bites back a scream, not happy with that conclusion.
“I...okay.”
“Just promise me that you’ll...keep an open mind, I guess?”
“What is that supposed- nevermind, I’ll find out when I get there. See you in a bit. Bye.”
“Bye.” The phone clicks, and the call ends.
“You fucking idiot,” Fang-Anon hisses.
“The fuck did you want me to do? Telling him to fuck off didn’t work.”
“Not bring him here!”
“You told me it was on me. You don’t get to bitch about the outcome.”
“How the fuck are we going to possibly explain to him that we’ve...fucking swapped bodies? I barely even believe it myself, and I’m sitting here in your fucking body! Are we sure we aren’t actually dreaming?”
Fang-Anon roughly slaps me on the back, and I yelp pathetically. I swear and reflexively jab my elbow into his side.
“Agh. Okay, not dreaming, I guess. Fuck,” he whines.
​
I sit in my desk chair as Fang-Anon rapidly paces back and forth across the apartment. Volcadera Bluff was not a particularly massive town. It would not take Naser a very long time to get here. Time that I was wasting by thinking about the time I have left, rather than trying to figure out some sort of plan. Time that I was wasting thinking about wasting the time I have left thinking about the time I have left, rather than…
“Anon, shut the fuck up. Please.” Sorry. Guess I still mumble even as Fang.
“We just need to...we just...need to…” His train of thought is interrupted by a knock on the door. “Fuck.” He glances over to me. I guess the pleasure is all mine. I walk over to the door and open it, Fang-Anon leaning against a countertop a bit further away. Naser stands in the doorway, looking at me expectantly. My mind completely blanks on what I was planning on saying. Had I even figured out something to say in the first place?
“Well? What’s so important that I had to come out here to hear it in person?”
“I...uh...mm…” I struggle to make a coherent noise for a moment, and then Fang-Anon speaks up.
“Anon and I swapped bodies. It’s as stupid as it sounds.” Naser looks back to me.
“Alright, now what’s the real reason?”
“Fang and I swapped bodies. It’s...as stupid as it sounds.”
“Did you really call me out here for some stupid prank, Fang?”
“...” Oh shit, he’s talking to me. “Wait, no. Please, Naser. I’m serious. It’s the truth.” I do my best to sound as sincere as possible. It wasn’t difficult considering I’m telling the truth after all, but I hope the extra effort I put into it helps. Naser looks confused, but unimpressed.
“Alright. Prove it.”
“I...uh…” Think, Anon, think. What’s something that Anon and Naser know that Fang wouldn’t know? Something so minor and inconsequential that I would never even bother telling her, if I had even remembered it in the first place? Come on…
“Remember....remember…remember...the first day of school! At lunch! I had one of those shitty school pizzas, and while we were talking it became inedible, and Naomi got you to split that sandwich with me. A philly cheesesteak. Holy fuck, it was good too. Remember?”
“I...yeah. I do remember that, actually. But...well…” Fang-Anon clears his throat, and we turn to look at him.
“Stephen Ha-wing, Helen Fly-er, Peter Wing-lage…” He rattles off a half-dozen other disabled celebrity wing-puns without skipping a beat. “Need I go on?” he concludes, smirking. Naser looks on in awe as what used to be my mouth says things only Fang had ever dared to say. He looks back between Fang-Anon and I multiple times, his eyes and mouth wider with every go-between.
“What the fuck…” he says, to nobody in particular. “So, you’re Anon?” he asks, looking at me. I nod. “And you’re Fang?” he asks Fang-Anon, who also nods. “Holy shit.”
“Do you believe us now?” I ask pleadingly.
“I...what choice do I have? Only Fang would be able to say any of that so easily and so swiftly. How long is this going to go on?”
“I dunno. Might be tomorrow. Might be next week. Might be never. Hopefully not never, there are definitely certain parts of me that I like and will be sorely missing very soon.”
“Hah! He misses his dick already,” Fang-Anon teases.
“You shut your mouth, you can’t possibly understand what I’m going through.”
“Okay, okay,” Naser interrupts. “I’m gonna go, you two...nevermind I’m not even gonna think about that one. I’ll figure something out. Let me know if you’re better by tomorrow, I guess.” Naser turns around and heads towards the stairwell and out of sight. I close the door, relieved.
We return to the main room and I take a seat on the edge of the bed, mulling what to do next. I glance at the clock - it’s barely been half an hour since we woke up. I break the silence.
“So I guess we have carte blanche to do whatever we want now, huh?”
“Yup, I guess so. Wait. Fuck! I totally promised Trish and Reed that I’d hang out with them today.”
“I thought you were taking a break from the band?”
“I am, but this isn’t a band thing, just friend stuff. What the fuck are you going to do?”
“I don’t suppose you invited yourself to that?” He shakes his head. “I’m not going by myself.” Fang-Anon falls backwards into my desk chair with a grunt, rubbing his brow. He clenches his eyes shut and lets out a long ‘hmmm’ as he lightly rocks in the chair, at least as much as it would allow. A corner of his lip curves upwards, turning into a smirk, and then into a full-on shit-eating grin. He opens his eyes and looks straight at me.
“Fang, no. I’m not going. I can’t, too much could go wrong.”
“I know. You won’t be going. We will be, though. Hand me your phone. My phone.” I lean over and pass the phone, and he starts rapidly typing out messages. A few minutes of tapping and buzzing later, he looks up satisfied, that shit-eating grin still painting his face.
“Fang, I know they’re our friends, but do they really need to know about all this?”
“Nope, and we’re not going to tell them.” I fail to respond with words and instead opt for a desperate, confused grunt. “Don’t worry about the details, this hinges on you not knowing anything. Just keep it cool. Also, if you tell them, you’ll be a Supreme Loser and an Absolute Ruiner of Fun.” The threat takes me aback. Such titles were reserved only for someone who purposefully fucks up a grand prank. Whatever they have in store, it’s going to be good.
​
A few hours later outside of our apartment building, I clamber into Reed’s white van.
“Fang! Hi!” Trish excitedly shouts at me over the clatter of the engine from the passenger seat, waving wildly. That’s directed at me, come on, I practiced this.
“Heya Trish, Reed,” I respond, taking one of the seats in the back. Smooth. Fang-Anon climbs in right after.
“Sup ladies, sup Trish.” The greeting is clearly designed to piss Trish off as much as possible, and Trish’s face morphs from excitement to fury in a split second.
“F- Anon, behave,” I snap, lightly punching him on the shoulder. Man, it feels weird to chastise myself from outside of myself like that.
“Did you really need to bring him?” Trish whines. “I know he’s your boyfriend and everything, but I’m already regretting it.”
“It’ll be fine, Trish,” I respond, not really knowing what to say. I don’t even know why we’re doing this, although I suspect it’s to mess with Trish.
“Don’t sweat it, Trish,” Reed speaks up from the driver’s seat. “Besides, maybe if you stopped getting so angry all the time, Anon’d stop fuckin’ with you.” Trish just loudly groans in response, slumping back into her seat and muttering something about skinnies.
The van picks up and starts its journey. Fang-Anon had filled me in on some of the details. We were going to some cheap but decent restaurant with outdoor dining, on one of the few mid-April afternoons that it wasn’t supposed to rain and that it wasn’t cold as balls. Outside of that, I had absolutely no idea to expect, outside of Trish being the butt of whatever Fang-Anon was planning. I just have to play along and make sure not to reveal today’s strange twist of events. I’m a little conflicted about the entire idea, at least what little of it I could guess at. Extracting a genuine apology from Trish over the auditorium incident had been...difficult. If Fang-Anon went too far with this prank just to get back at her for that, it could complicate things. Granted that that is what this is all about, anyway.
​
We eventually arrive at the quaint establishment, seat ourselves and order some food. I mentally thank the fact that Fang is carnivorous, cause if I had to go veggie-only I would’ve lost it.
“So, Fang! How’s it been,” Trish asks me.
“Been pretty good, if I say so myself,” Fang-Anon responds before I even open my mouth. Trish glares at him with barely-restrained rage.
“I didn’t ask you, you fucking idiot.”
“Oh, shit, my bad. Don’t know what got into me there. Fang?”
“Uh, yeah, it’s been nice. Can’t complain,” I answer. Trish’s seething subsides slightly, and she relaxes in her chair a little. “But you,” I say, turning to Fang-Anon and poking him in the side. “Is your name Fang?”
“Depends on which part of me you ask,” he says, smug that such a bizarre statement is completely lost on Trish and Reed.
“Whatever, dweeb.” I giggle internally at my response. “Quit trying to mess with Trish.”
“Sorry, I’m not trying to. I guess being a barbaric monster hellbent on corrupting the innocent just comes naturally to me.” What the actual fuck was that supposed to mean? I raise an eyebrow at him, then look over at Reed and Trish. He looks a little confused but shrugs it off and she’s frozen in place, completely mortified at what sounded like complete nonsense.
“W-what did you just say?” Trish stutters.
“Hm? Nothing, just I guess I can be a bit of an asshole sometimes. Sorry.” Trish shakes her head and attempts to calm herself.
“Y-yeah, you need to, you know... work on that.”
“You alright, Trish? You look kinda pale.”
“What? Me? No, I just, uh...I’ll be right back!” Trish pushes herself away from the table and hurries off into the building, probably in search of a bathroom. A minute later, my pocket buzzes and a message from Trish shows up on it.
‘what did u tell him???’
I could only guess as to what on earth this could possibly mean, which meant it probably had something to do with whatever Fang’s plan is. I type out a response.
‘Nothing? Is everything alright?’
‘did u hear what he said?’
‘Yeah, what about it?’
‘what about it?? how could he know to say that unless u told him?’
‘It was probably just a weird coincidence. I wouldn’t worry about it too much, I haven’t said anything I shouldn’t have.’ A blind shot in the dark, but I had to reel Trish back into this somehow. Plus, it’s not like I’m lying. I’m just as clueless as she is.
‘k’
“Yo…” Reed perks up leaning into the table and eying us suspiciously. “What’s going on with you two?” I tilt my head at him. “Your...your vibes are off. Both of you.” I glance over to Fang-Anon. Does Reed somehow know?
“Reed, I’ll tell you two at school on Monday. Don’t mention it until then, especially to Trish,” Fang-Anon whispers across the table. Reed stares back contemplatively.
“Yeah, alright.” He leans back into his chair and relaxes.
Soon enough Trish returns to the table and our food arrives. I look at the hot dog in front of me, stacked high with sauces and toppings. Man, they made a mean looking dog. I pick it up and move it towards my gigantic snout. Oh fuck, how do I eat with this gigantic snout?
“Hey, Fang. I’ll give you five bucks if you swallow that in one bite,” Fang-Anon challenges.
“What? No, that’s retarded,” I reply.
“What’s wrong? Scared of having a tube of delicious meat filling your delicate gullet?” I stare him down, hot dog inches from the tip of my snout.
“Dude, I’m trying to savor my hot dog. Please shut up.” I look over at Trish and once again one of Fang-Anon’s weird statements has her shell-shocked. She recovers from this one a bit quicker than the last, but whatever it is, it’s having an effect on her.
With difficulty, I navigate a bite of food into my mouth, the long rows of sharp teeth tearing through the meat and bread with ease. Holy fuck, it tasted as good as it looked too. I tear through the rest of the meal in short order, spurred along by the fact that I hadn't eaten yet today.
"Damn bro, you killed that thing," Reed comments. He was just finishing his own food, Fang-Anon still had half of his and Trish is only a few bites in.
"Yeah...oh fuck that was good. Who's idea was it to come here?"
"Uh...yours?" Oh, shit.
"Uh, yeah, goddamn right it was. Man, I'm smart. Shit, do they have ice cream here? I bet that's good too." As I'm ordering, it occurs to me that I don't actually know what kind of ice cream Fang likes. I go with vanilla just to be safe, if a little disappointing.
My dessert arrives and I scoop a spoonful of it into my mouth. I audibly moan, unable to help myself. Is everything here this good?
"Damn Fang, desperate to have your insides filled with that creamy goodness or something?" I do my best to ignore the distressingly suggestive comment from Fang-Anon, but Trish doesn't. She clamps her mouth shut and stifles a loud, panicked scream.
"Whoa, Trish, everything alright?" I ask, before Fang-Anon says something to make the situation worse.
"Oh, everything is just fine with me. What's with you two though? You're acting really fucking weird. Right, Reed?" she sputters, grinning fearfully and looking to Reed for any semblance of support.
"Hmm? Yeah, it's been pretty weird on all of us recently, hasn't it?" Reed's non-answer does little to reassure Trish.
"No, that's not...UGH!" She hides her head in her arms.
"Quit saying weird shit, we're trying to eat, dweeb," I tell Fang-Anon, ribbing him with my elbow. “And quit doing...whatever you’re doing to Trish. I thought you two were making nice after the auditorium shit.”
“Alright, alright,” Fang-Anon capitulates. “Sorry, Trish,” he says, sneaking a bit of snark into his tone. Trish angrily murmurs something that could only be technically considered a response.
​
The rest of the day went by fairly uneventfully, Trish staying uncharacteristically quiet after that moment. The next morning I woke up, and looked at my hand. Skin and nails, not feathers and claws, thank goodness. It’s Monday, so Fang and I got ready for school, and before I know it, it’s lunch-time. Time for Fang’s big reveal. We walk side by side to the auditorium, lunch in hand, and I push open the doors to see Trish and Reed already inside. Trish is stuck somewhere between panic and relief at seeing the both of us. She begins to protest, but Fang cuts her off.
“Trish, I gotta tell you something.” They place their tray down and rush over to Trish’s side, whispering into her ear, and Trish’s expression starts rapidly changing. Relief. Confusion. Shock. Fear. Panic. Horror. She tries to respond, but more whispers interrupt her, and she can barely get a word out
“Huh? But-...wha-...how-...no-...” Fang steps back, finished with their explanation, smugly observing Trish’s inner turmoil.
“It’s me, Trish! It was me all along, Trish!” They exclaim maniacally.
“What? No, that’s not fucking possible! YOU!” She points an accusatory finger at me. “What do you know?!”
“Nothing, I swear! They’re telling the truth! You can even ask Naser, he knows too.”
“I...but...Reed! Fang is trying to say they swapped bodies with Anon, that’s completely ridiculous. Right?”
“Hmm…” Reed ponders aloud. “Honestly, I’d believe it. I saw their vibes were off yesterday, maybe they were actually swapped and I just didn’t notice.
“What the fuck- their vibes?! Their fucking vibes?!”
“Yeah, sis. Their vibes. Way off yesterday, fine today.” Trish frantically looks back and forth between the three of us, eyes wide and clutching her bony crest.
“What the fuck…”
“Hey…” Fang places a hand on Trish’s shoulder. Her tone is soft, but her grin is borderline sadistic. “Nothing you do will ever be able to top that. Don’t embarrass my boyfriend like that again.”