#Yo;2 drawings in two days straight? something must be wrong

[thatonecrookedsmile]

Transmission 3 in a nutshell. (Or alternatively,what happened during the 5 minutes the transmission was down)

It's been 2 years since Dawn of the Dimetrix was released. Jesus,has it been so long? How times fly. I didn't get to do anything too big for this year,honestly. And considering what I did last year? I don't have much of a problem with something smaller. But hey,it's still a celebration anyway. I've had this idea for a while,and I thought it was funny. There was no way I could not do this.

I was laughing through most of the process. I loved how Abe turned out,and Dovahcom is just that specific frame from the OB transmissions. They look silly,there's no way I can't giggle.

Also,my first drawing with Pre-Explosion Goliath. He also turned out good.

I don't have much to add,so straight to the point: Happy Anniversary of the Dimetrix! I love DOTD so much. The hype and wait for the album/the era of transmissions/the release of the album were moments in IRIS history that I treasure. It brought great songs,some that would become my favorites (Dimetrix,basically lol),and overall, it's a good experience that I like to revisit. Again,I can't believe it's been 2 years already. 2021 seems so far away now.

Here for another 2 years,and for a new wave of IRIS material to come in the future. I can't wait for what's to come!

#HavokReignsForever

[cheri-translates]

[CN] S2 Gavin and MC in Chapter 9 - Part One

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from Season 2 🍒

I’m focusing on Gavin and MC, not the plot (because the latter requires extensive time and effort that I can’t spare :’>). So I won’t be explaining certain plot points as I’m unsure of them myself

Do read Ch 2 before proceeding! Otherwise you’ll be completely lost from the very beginning:

MC is in her office looking out for trending topics in the news, and she starts thinking about what Grey Rhino does:

At present, Gray Rhino is one of the most active anti-Evol groups. Its members are found all over the world, and consist of tens of thousands of people. 

Most of the members are normal civilians or Evol victims, and are extremely against the existence of Evol. Every member seems to have a snake-shaped tattoo on their body.

From what I understand, they have a hand in the “Small Syringes”, the missing plane and the train incident from not too long ago.

One of her subordinates from Black Swan, Zehn, gives her a call

She’s tasked him to take note of Gray Rhino’s operations, because she thinks they’re going to act again

But he brings her news of STF instead: Apparently, STF has a new commander, but he’s a mystery since he hasn’t made a public appearance

MC: Maybe he’s a shrewd old man.

MC sighs and decides that she needs to investigate into the commander of STF

At this moment, impatient knocks are at the door. Even before I make a sound, Minor has already pushed the door open, rushing to me with extreme anxiousness.

I frantically hang up, turning my head and glowering at Minor.

MC: Why did you barge into my office?

Minor creases his brows, gesturing at the phone in his hand, mouthing some words to me. 

Minor: It’s-- Bro-- Gavin-- 

MC: Gavin? 

The words subconsciously leave my lips, and my tone is slightly surprised.

MC: Why did Gavin give you a call to look for me?

A voice drifts from the phone in Minor’s hand.

Gavin: Because your phone line was busy.

I was just having a discussion with my subordinate from Black Swan on how to fish for information regarding the commander of STF...

Feeling a little guilty, I hurriedly take the phone.

MC: Looking for me so urgently - is something wrong?

For a while, there’s silence at the other end of the line.

I wait quietly for Gavin to speak. After a moment, his voice returns.

Gavin: MC, has... anything happened to you lately?

This question is very abrupt, and I find it slightly odd. Thinking that Gavin is asking about the “Small Syringes” incident, I respond.

MC: Nothing’s wrong. I occasionally get strange harassment calls... but the rumours of the company being involved in prohibited drugs are slowly clearing up. As of now, work has returned to normal. Come to think of it, Captain Gavin deserves much thanks for helping me clear up the rumours.

I laugh, adding that last line.

After a soft “oh”, Gavin doesn’t continue.

The silence in the air spreads to both ends of the line. Minor, being incredibly tactful, leaves the room. Before closing the door, he mouths a “Boss, all the best”.

I think of the earlier information received. After hesitating for a moment, I test the waters with a question.

MC: Gavin, it’s been a while since we were in contact. How have you been?

Gavin: I was executing a mission.

Gavin’s breathing is very soft, drifting through the phone and into the receiver.

I can even imagine how he looks, pinching his phone with slight force, his right hand subconsciously tapping lightly on the desk.

The gloomy weather is filled with large, dark clouds. The first rainfall of winter, which has been brewing for a very long time, finally starts pattering down.

The synchronised rustling of rain can be heard over the phone. I lift my head to look out the window, and speak to Gavin softly.

MC: It’s raining. 

Gavin: Mm.

The thick sound of rain mucks up a memory, and I continue, thinking aloud.

MC: Rainfall in winter is the coldest... When you’re on missions these days, take note of the weather. When you head out, check the weather forecast, remember to bring an umbrella, and don’t catch a cold.

Gavin once again makes a sound of acknowledgement.

Gavin: Got it.

Another wave of silence hangs on the other end of the line. Just as I hesitate on whether to say goodbye, Gavin suddenly speaks.

Gavin: MC, I need your help with something.

-

Holding the STF-issued provisional visitor pass, a special officer leads me to the reception room.

Collaborative filming between the STF and [MC’s Company Name] has been shelved temporarily due to the gradually increasing amount of work. Other than the “Small Syringes” incident, it’s been a very long time since I came to the STF.

Special Officer: Miss MC, this is the place.

When the door is pushed open, a familiar voice drifts from inside.

Tang Chao: Yo, it’s you again. If you visit a few more times, I’ll be familiar with you. Your name’s MC, right?

Eli: Is that how you should speak to a lady?

Tang Chao: I’m just establishing good relations early. We’ll probably have many chances to meet in the future.

Aside from Eli whom I’m familiar with, I recognise the youth who doesn’t have a filter over his mouth. He’s Tang Chao, Gavin’s colleague, and the one who pretended to interrogate me the last time.

MC: Special Officer Tang, it’s been a long time.

Gavin: Tang Chao! Who allowed you to be here?

With a “bang”, the door is pushed open with force. Gavin strides into the room with a dark expression, placing files on the table with a thud.

It’s been a long time since I've seen Gavin, and I can’t help but take several looks at him.

Gavin is wearing everyday clothes, and in his deep eyes are the coolness and resoluteness that I'm familiar with.

My gaze remains unmoving, and I vaguely spot a white bandage near his sleeve.

MC: Gavin, are you injured?

Gavin: No.

Tang Chao: He’s lying. 

Gavin: ...

MC: ...

Tang Chao grabs the files on the table, whipping his head around to greet him before running out into the corridor swiftly. 

Eli: I can’t help much by staying here. The two of you can talk.

The reception room, which was in a state of chaos earlier, suddenly sinks into quietness.

I remain standing in place, somewhat at a loss. Gavin, feeling uneasy, turns his head to the side, releasing a soft cough.

Gavin: They talk too much. Let’s go straight to the main topic. 

Gavin plays down on the topic of his injuries, but I know that even if I were to ask, he would only keep it hidden. 

I sigh inwardly.

MC: You haven't told me what you needed my help with.

Gavin: We met a witness who has special circumstances, and we need your Evol to read his memories.

MC: Special circumstances? Is his memory impaired? Or did he lose part of his memory from fright?

Gavin shakes his head, and only signals that I should follow him.

In the interrogation room, Gavin briefly explains the situation: the incident happened at a station, and the victim died from a bullet

The witness is an elderly man who is blind

I tug on Gavin’s sleeve, and can’t help but voice the doubts in my heart.

MC: Gavin, since this witness is a blind man, how am I supposed to read his memories?

Gavin: Memories aren’t just images. Sounds, scents, and even touch are parts of memories.

MC: I think I understand what you mean. If footsteps are heard, it could confirm the time when the suspect appeared. If a unique scent is stored in the memory, it could also be a lead to cracking the case.

Gavin nods lightly. 

Gavin: That’s why I requested for you to come.

He tells her not to be stressed about it

Unfortunately, MC doesn’t get anything out of reading the witness’ memories

MC: I’m sorry, I don’t have much of a clue.

Gavin nods lightly, and doesn’t say anything. This causes me to feel a little embarrassed. 

Even though the case has nothing to do with me, I couldn’t be of any help to him.

Thinking about how he’s been handling Evol cases which come one after another, he must be facing an incredible amount of stress.

-

Walking out the doors of the interrogation room, Tang Chao happens to pass by.

Tang Chao: You’re going off just like that?

Gavin: ...

Tang Chao: Let’s head to the canteen for a meal. There are chicken drumsticks today.

Gavin blatantly ignores Tang Chao, who had extended an enthusiastic invitation. He turns towards me.

Gavin: I'll send you home. Don’t worry about today’s matter.

Seeing him like this, he’s probably planning to focus wholeheartedly on investigating and not intend to have a proper meal...

Sighing inwardly, I pat my hands and make a wilful decision.

MC: Gavin, you haven’t given me my remuneration. How about this. I’ll treat you to a meal, then you can conveniently send me home.

Gavin: No thanks.

MC: ...

Seeing the awkward expression on my face from being rejected, Gavin seems to be in a great mood, and the corners of his lips lift a tiny bit.

Gavin: I’ll send you home, and conveniently accompany you to a meal.

MC: ...eh?

Gavin: Why are you in a daze? Let’s go.

-

By the time we walk out of STF, the rain has already stopped. It isn’t time to eat yet, and neither of us are very hungry. We simply head to a nearby snack street to find something random to eat.

The road is flanked on both sides with various snack shops, numerous coloured billboards tightly packed together. In this late afternoon drawing close to evening, business is bustling, and people are walking to and fro.

It is the season where autumn ends and winter begins, and the fragrance of roasted chestnuts is in the air. My mind still ponders on the case from earlier.

MC: Gavin, aren’t there any other witnesses in that case?

Gavin: The crime occurred when the station was most desolate. There weren’t other commuters on the platform. 

MC: Since the location of the crime is in a place like the station, aren’t there any surveillance cameras nearby?

Gavin: On the day of the incident, all the surveillance cameras nearby were broken.

While speaking, a large white cat holding a Dragon Li cat in its mouth leaps past us lithely, and Gavin slow down his footsteps. 

MC: Looks like it’s a premeditated crime.

I have no other ideas after this, and I decide to ask whatever I can think of.

MC: After the murderer committed the crime, what would have been the first thing he’d have done?

Gavin: Get rid of the murder weapon.

Gavin says this casually. Standing before the roasted chestnut stall, the smile on the boss’ face instantly freezes. 

I take the freshly prepared roasted chestnuts, hurriedly pulling Gavin away.

At this moment, I realise on hindsight that Gavin had silently footed the bill, and I had accepted it just like that.

Gavin turns his head and sees me rooted in my original spot. His eyes are caged in the tender glow of sunset.

Gavin: What’s wrong?

MC: Gavin, is there anything you want to eat?

At first, he shakes his head. In the end, he seems to notice the downward tugging at the corners of my lips, and can only struggle in front of the oden noodle shop for a while.

Gavin: One serving of fishballs.

MC: Two servings. And add a serving of fish tofu, chicken wings, chikuwa... please add more chilli.

MC: You have to eat more.

While we’re eating and walking, a clear “bang” suddenly resounds from behind us.

With my mind filled with the shooting incident, I’m so scared that I shift half a step backwards.

Gavin: It’s a shooting game. 

Meeting Gavin’s teasing gaze, I laugh awkwardly, and an idea surfaces in my mind.

MC: I know! Let’s go and play that! Since we can’t escape from the topic of “shooting”, we might even get some inspiration from the game.

Gavin: ...that’s going a little far.

Despite what he says, Gavin still accompanies me, walking towards the stall. Seeing that there’s business, the owner immediately calls out to us in a lively manner.

I hold the gun, weigh it in my hand, and look at the target set up in front of me.

Gavin glances at me in surprise, and asks suddenly.

Gavin: You’ve learnt shooting?

MC: Mm, an incredible friend taught me.

Gavin: Which friend?

MC: ...the one who taught me self-defence. He’s very skilled, and is a very nice person too.

Gavin turns his head to the side, looking utterly disinterested, as though he doesn’t believe my big words.

After greeting the stall owner, I hold up the gun and adjust my posture. Settling on the target, I squint with my right eye, pulling the trigger confidently.

Bang--

Brimming with confidence, I look at the target, but realise that I’ve barely hit the 7th ring.

Gavin: Looks like his teaching wasn’t that great.

[Note] If you aren't familiar with Gavin’s dates: S1 Gavin taught MC how to shoot in his Rehearsal Date! So he’s basically insulting himself LOL

In a great mood, Gavin watches the faraway target. Unwilling to lose, I fire several bullets, but the results hover around the 6th and 7th rings.

MC: ...it’s been a long time since I practised, so I’m a little rusty.

After saying this, peals of laughter drift from behind me.

I turn my head, and see a high school couple playing the shooting game too.

Girl: Dear, your shooting skills are really good!

Boy: Dear, wait for me to get the biggest and cutest doll for you.

Once the girl hears the boy’s words, she laughs even more. 

A wave of melancholy strikes my heart. Just as I think of setting the gun down, I hear Gavin’s voice at my ear.

Gavin: You’re putting too much weight in front.

Suddenly, a familiar warmth presses against my back. Scorching breaths are at the roof of my head. He holds my hand, resting the butt of the rifle on my shoulder. 

MC: !

Gavin: Are you ready?

Gavin rests the first pad of his forefinger over mine, applying pressure on the trigger, not leaving a single gap.

I can feel the calluses as he covers the back of my hand with his, and the heart that’s about to leap out of my chest.

I don’t know if it’s the lingering warmth from sunset, or the temperature of Gavin’s body which is causing my face to feel heated.

Bang--!

The bullet slices through the air, hitting the centre of the target with precision.

Gavin: Do you remember the gist of the action?

I nod with force, the scorching warmth of our skin being pressed together causing the temperature of my face to rise.

Under Gavin’s close guidance, the subsequent eight shots all hit the bullseye.

His eyebrows arch upwards slightly, and he chuckles.

Gavin: Do you still want to try?

Seeing that Gavin is hitting the target with every shot, the stall owner seems to get a fright, and immediately waves his hands. 

Stall owner: I’m about to close the stall. You should pick a prize quickly.

Gavin: That one then.

Gavin points at the largest pink bunny plush on the counter. Then, he pauses, tossing me a questioning glance.

MC: Gavin, I want that prize.

I point at a golden coloured ginkgo keychain in the glass cabinet.

Stall owner: Miss, the one you chose is a third-rate prize. It’s of little value.

MC: It’s all right. I like it.

I hold up that ginkgo keychain, the fine leaf made of golden wire reflecting a dazzling light under the sun.

MC: It’d definitely look really nice on a bag!

I turn my head excitedly, and can’t help but flaunt it off to Gavin.

The autumn wind is somewhat gentle. The corners of Gavin’s lips are hooked upwards. His eyes, which are watching me, are flourishing with an amber light.

Gavin: Mm, looks really nice.

[Note] Screaming because it’s left ambiguous in Chinese on whether he’s referring to the ginkgo keychain... or her smile 👀

-

Right after walking out of the snack street, raindrops patter down.

MC: It’s raining again.

I retrieve my umbrella, and Gavin takes it from me naturally. The transparent umbrella is held steadily above my head.

Gavin: It’s getting late. I’ll send you home. Don’t worry about today’s matter. It has nothing to do with you.

Fine rain continuously slides off the umbrella. Gavin matches my pace, walking forward slowly.

Everything in the rain brings with it a certain hazy and humid quality, reminiscent of an image frequently featured in movies.

Gavin: Where’s your bracelet? Why aren’t you wearing it?

MC: The weather has been too damp these days. I was afraid wearing it out would affect its condition.

Gavin: ...oh.

I lift my head, and see a mother and daughter afar off, getting caught in the rain.

I exchange a glance with Gavin. We reach a tacit understanding, and he nods.

We walk over to the mother and daughter, and give the umbrella to them.

MC: This umbrella is for the both of you.

Mother: How could I take it!

With my persuasion, the mother and daughter finally accept this kindness, and repeatedly thank Gavin and I.

I take out an unimportant document from my bag and use it to cover my forehead. Just as I prepare to share a few sheets with Gavin, a shadow suddenly shrouds the top of my head.

--It’s Gavin’s jacket.

MC: No need. It’s just a little rain, it’d be fine.

Gavin: Didn't you say that rainfall in winter is the coldest?

Not allowing for any protests, Gavin holds the jacket over our heads, ensuring that I wouldn’t get caught in the rain.

Gavin: Let’s go. The journey isn’t long. I’ll send you home. Oh yes, don’t leave the house over the next few days. Especially at night.

His expression is incredibly serious, and even a little stern.

MC: Got it.

Gavin’s jacket covers my head. I breathe in, inhaling his unique scent.

But the jacket doesn’t seem to be large enough, and isn’t sufficient for two people to walk while standing side by side. After a moment of thinking, I stagger slightly, standing in front of Gavin. 

I lift my head, looking at Gavin’s clean lower jaw and amber coloured eyes.

MC: We’ll walk like this?

A touch of red surfaces on Gavin’s cheeks. He doesn’t lower his head to look at me. Shifting his gaze elsewhere, he feigns coldness in his voice.

Gavin: Mm.

The large jacket covers and carves out a small and narrow world. The sound of rain pattering on the jacket is slightly gloomy, blending with the scent of rain, and the delicate, faint fragrance in the air.

I take a deep breath, looking towards the street.

MC: Gavin, look. The wintersweet flowers are blooming.

[Trivia] In the language of flowers, the wintersweet symbolises independence, perseverance, fortitude, faithfulness, and a loving, noble heart :>

Behind me, Gavin halts in his steps, and peels open a corner of the jacket slightly.

I can’t see his gaze, and can only feel his drawn out breathing and the warmth of his skin through his shirt.

The yellow wintersweet flowers emit a subtle fragrance. In a manner which isn’t overly resplendent or bright, they add a warm lustre to this world.

Gavin: Mm, looks really nice.

His voice is clear and bright. In this indistinct, misty rain, it seems to indicate the direction that I should proceed towards.

In many moments, it’s always been the case.

The red light across the street seems to be exceptionally lengthy, and doesn’t change for a long time. 

The waiting time is a little long, and I can’t help but enter a slight trance. 

When I was fifteen years old, the rain was just like this.

Seventeen year old Gavin crossed the curtain of rain, and the school jacket he placed on me had carried the scent of an inexperienced youth.

That youthful scent which forever pauses on that rainy day has been breathed back to life in my memory, entwining with the scent of the man that is presently twirling around the tip of my nose.

Like a certain miraculous overlapping.

MC: The rain seems to be getting heavier.

The white shirt which has been caught in the rain is slightly soaked. I seem to see his slim back through the shirt, which has turned half-transparent from being drenched in the rain.

That clean and cool scent, just like the refreshing breeze coursing through this rain, descends on my heart.

The green man lights up, and the passers-by next to us walk across hurriedly. Perhaps this rain wouldn’t stop even after a while.

I summon my courage, and simply grab onto Gavin’s hand, pulling him into a run.

Across the streets, across the pelting rain, across the sea of memories, and walking into a junction belonging to us.

The rain pours even harder, creating flowers of water on the ground, as though urging me to hasten my footsteps.

Urging me to take his hand and walk forward quickly--

-

Part two: here

[scabopolis]

lv au week, day 3: fairy tales

Title: parry on Fandom: Veronica Mars Rating: PG  Pairing: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars Other Characters: An animal that is 100% based on one of my mom’s felines Additional Tags: Absolutely inspired by Tangled, though I do not give Logan luscious magical hair (SPOILER!) Things I googled for this fic: antique jewelry box, what to feed cats in the 1800s, fencing footwork drills Word Count: ~1,950 Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

Jump forward. Advance lunge. On guard. 

Logan goes through the motions and repeats them, increasing his speed each time. “Again,” he says to himself. 

Jump forward. Advance lunge. On guard. Jump forward. Advance lunge. On guard.

Again, and again, and again until his chest is tight with exertion and he is barely capable of lifting his makeshift sword up above his hip line. It is only then he ceases movement. 

Logan drops his weapon to the floor and hinges at the waist, taking deep, slow breaths. He is unsure how long he remains in that position before his cat, a rotund tortoiseshell who simply showed up in his keep one day, winds itself around his ankles. 

Lady Richard looks up at him and lets out a cross between a whimper and a meow. Logan reaches down and scratches the cat behind its ears. 

“Ah, I know what you want.” 

Lady Richard meows again, even more pathetically.

Post-workout, Logan’s sabre has returned to its true form and is a wooden spoon once more. He kicks it out of the way and makes for his small kitchen. His father’s man visited him the day prior (“your father wished to come, truly”) so his larder basket is more than full. 

Once Lady Richard appeared, his father was surprisingly amenable to Logan’s keeping her. Apparently his father did not consider a cat scaling the unsteady ivy outside his window a threat. 

Logan unpacks the cat collops from the larder basket and sinks to the stone floor. Lady Richard invites himself into Logan’s lap.  

“Father approved entrails this week.” Logan scratches Lady Richard under the chin, feeding him the meat pieces from his hand. “He must be in a good mood.”

Once Lady Richard is finished with her meal, she bounces from Logan’s lap and moves over to her favorite cushion of the burnt orange sofa in the corner of the room. Logan reupholstered the sofa himself but, seeing as it was a decision made primarily to irritate his father, he deeply regrets the choice of fabric.

Logan sets himself to preparing his own meal, removing bread, cheese, and some salted meat from the larder basket. He takes a jar of the fig jam he made the previous week down from the kitchen shelf. This batch is considerably better than the past few he has attempted, though it is still not quite right. If only he could ask Lettie, the palace cook, for her advice. On Logan’s more optimistic days, he believes he will one day have the chance to. 

He pours himself a large glass of mead, sinks back down to the floor with food and drink in hand, and then waits. For what, he is never certain. But he has been waiting for something to transpire the more than three years he has lived in this tower. The day Logan stops finding something to hope for will be the day he takes a flying leap from the tower. 

Some hours later (it is hard to say how many — his father did not think a clock necessary for his survival) Logan wakes with a start, laying upon the cold stone floor of the kitchen. He notices the bright light spilling in through the tower window, illuminating most of the room. It must be a full moon. 

At first uncertain as to what caused him to stir, he registers the distinct rustling of ivy outside the tower window. He assumes Lady Richard to be the culprit but that is not possible as the cat is tucked behind Logan’s knees, fast asleep. The rustling persists. 

Logan pushes himself to a seated position (Lady Richard meows in displeasure) and moves to crouch behind the large floral chair that once belonged to his mother. He reasons with himself that it is likely just another cat; possibly a squirrel of some sort. But then there is the darker possibility that his father has determined keeping him alive and hidden is no longer worth the trouble. 

The rustling is even louder now, but it is the sound of metal hitting stone that has all his attention. Logan moves from where he crouches into the kitchen in search of a weapon. Father has left him without knives of any sort, so he settles on the heavy cast iron pan, still soiled with the remnants of breakfast. Rather than return to his original hiding spot, Logan moves on bare feet to the book shelf nearest the window. This position unfortunately obscures his view of the tower window. 

He listens to the repetitive movements outside; metal hitting stone again and again. Eventually the sound stops and Logan is startled by how calm he feels. His father has always been mercurial — it was only a matter of time before he decided a dead prince was preferable to a hidden one. 

The assassin grunts as they first swing one leg and then the other over the window ledge; their heavy boots hitting the stone. They don’t seem concerned with keeping quiet, which is strange. Rather than head immediately for the stairs, and thus his room, the assassin sounds as if they are moving towards the main room. 

“What is this place?”

Logan freezes in place at the assassin’s quiet voice. A woman? He was not expecting a woman. She moves further into the room, her back to Logan. He especially did not expect a woman who appears to be a foot shorter than him. The woman continues her exploration of the tower, her head turning this way and that, when her eyes settle on the engraved silver jewelry box set upon the fireplace mantle. He watches as she picks up the jewelry box, inspects it for a moment, and then tucks it into her satchel. She helps herself also to a pair of candlesticks and his pocket compass. 

Not quite an assassin, then.

Lady Richard makes herself known by flopping backwards onto the thief’s boot, feet up in the air in invitation. The thief laughs quietly and leans down to scratch the cat’s stomach. “You’re a well-fed thing,” she says. “Where is your owner?” 

And Logan would much rather take someone by surprise than be surprised, so he seizes that moment to step out of the shadow. 

“Right here,” he says. 

In one quick action, the woman reels around to face Logan, a knife he was unaware she wielded clutched tight in her hand. Logan holds up the frying pan. It distracts her for a moment, but only just.  

“Who are you?” the woman asks. 

“Who are you?” 

“I believe I asked first.” 

“You are the intruder, which I think places the burden of answering questions firmly upon your shoulders.”

“You live here?” 

“Clearly. Shall I repeat my original question: who are you?” 

She hesitates. “My horse threw me off a few miles from here. I was looking for assistance.” 

“Is that so?”

“You do not believe me?” 

“I do not. But I also do not believe you are here to kill me, so that is something.” 

“Why would I kill you?” 

“Why, indeed.”

“I suppose you saw me steal your jewelry box.” 

“I did. The candlesticks, too.” 

“And you are okay with this?” 

“No, and I do expect their return, but you have bigger concerns.” 

“What concerns?” 

“Successfully leaving this place alive, for one.” 

The woman tenses and she takes a step back. Lady Richard follows, batting at the thief’s boot. “You intend to kill me.” 

“No. I do not. But I am afraid you stormed the wrong tower.” 

She narrows her eyes. “Who are you, exactly?” 

This evening, when Logan sat on that cold stone floor to eat his supper, he had no way of knowing what he was waiting for. Seeing this woman now — this woman who boldly brandishes a knife at him and speaks without fear while so clearly being in the wrong — he makes a decision. 

“Perhaps you should look at that jewelry box once more.” 

The woman manages to fish out the silver box while still keeping the knife steady and directed at Logan. The top of the box is engraved with a scene of a pond and the requisite flora surrounding it. There’s no way for this woman to know the etching is a perfect rendering of the large pond on the palace grounds. 

It is the name engraved upon the box which can hardly escape her notice: Her Majesty, The Queen, Lynette II

“You are a thief, as well?” she asks, though she sounds doubtful. 

“I am not.” 

“Then how—?”

“The queen is—,” he clears his throat, “—was quite dear to me.”

“How did you know the queen?” 

Logan remains silent. 

Her eyes return to the box, her thumb tracing over the engraving. She looks back up at him and, perhaps it is the remnants of a long-faded instinct, but Logan draws himself up straight for her inspection. That is when his identity appears to be clear to her. 

“It cannot—,” she begins, haltingly. He nods. “Are you the lost prince?”

Logan sighs and lowers the frying pan. Lady Richard accepts it as an invitation and comes over to lick bacon grease from the cast iron. “The lost prince? Is that what they call me?” 

“Most of the kingdom believes you dead. Your father increases the reward for your return each year.” 

He laughs. “I am sorry, but all my return would garner you is your death.” 

“Why is that?” 

“Because your good king, my father, does not want me to be found as he is the one who entrapped me here.”

She loses her grip on the jewelry box, but manages to recover the object. Her knife, on the other hand, clatters to the ground. She does not pick it up.

“Is this true?”

“What is more, I believe as soon as my step-mother produces an heir, I will truly be expendable.” 

“Why tell me this?”

Logan twirls the frying pan in his hand and sends spatters of cooled bacon grease flying. “As I see it we have two options and limited time to decide: one, you leave me here, and you worry that one of my father’s spies has witnessed your departure and will thus murder you.” 

“Option two?” 

“Option two is far less likely to succeed.” 

He pauses for dramatic effect and she rolls her eyes. “Do go on.”

“Option two, you help me escape, I take my rightful place as ruler, and you will earn far more than any reward my father could offer.”

“What makes you think I can help you?” 

“Something tells me a woman who just happened to have the means to scale a 60 foot tower in her satchel has the means to do much more.” 

This is already more fun than Logan has had in close to a decade. 

“What should I call you?” she asks. “Because I refuse to call you highness.” 

“Logan will do. Shall I call you thief?” 

She picks up her knife, sheathes it, and extends her hand. He grips hers in return and is overcome by the fact it has been years since he has touched another person. 

“Veronica. Mars. And I prefer the term master thief.” Veronica looks down at Lady Richard as she intently licks a spot of grease off her boot. “The cat?” 

“The cat comes. Her name is Lady Richard.” 

“What say you, Lady Richard,” Veronica says, “ready for an adventure?”

[justimajin]

It’s a Reverse Basket ◍ Epilogue

⇝ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

⇝ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst

↳ Basketball AU, Crossdressing AU

⇝ Words: 3k

⇝ Warnings: pg13; get ready for some last minute nostalgia and fluff :)

⇝ Summary: Basketball is your everything; your passion for it running deep and wanting nothing more then to play the sport. Problem is, that’s exactly all you need when your bright future begins to surface.  

⇝ Full Series: Moodboard Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Epilogue - in the making process

There’s a large table set in the middle of the grass field, aisle chairs placed around it in a circle. A spacious white tent hovers over the range of food cluttered on the table, a body of cheerful voices mixing and mingling with one another.

A foot suddenly lands on the edge of the table, an accusing finger sharply pointed.  

“Who invited you here?!” Taehyung exclaims, his black hair moving with the light breeze. Horror is written all over his features.

The man sighs, his blonde hair parted to the side and a cool glass of soda resting in his hands. He gestures to the figure in framed glasses, currently engaged in conversation with the school’s doctor.

“I heard you guys won nationals.” Seokjin warmly smiles, a playful glint in his eyes, “Shouldn’t you be a little courteous that I actually came?”

“Courteous?” Jungkook tilts his head to the side, dismayed with the man’s abrupt appearance as well, “We’re rivals.”

“But we could be friends.”

“Alright that’s it, I’m about to throw up.” Taehyung covers his mouths like he’s about to gag and Seokjin merely rolls his eyes.

He glances around, “Where is your Captain by the way?”

“Him and Y/N were going to come together.” Jungkook mutters, narrowing his eyes, “You better not do anything to her.”

“Oh please.” Seokjin waves Jungkook off, “If this is about Y/N being a girl, then rest assured I already knew about that.”

“Yeah, if you say anything we’ll–“  Taehyung freezes, side eyeing Jungkook.

Their voices raise together. 

“What?!”

***

You spin around on your silver heels, the long strands of hair on your head bouncing as you do. Dressed in a pink floral dress, you had decided to go simple this time around – but you can’t seem to find the person who’s supposed to be accompanying you.

“Yoongi?” You poke your head into his room, catching sight of him shrugging on a black sweater.

“Hm?” He has a deadpan expression when he turns around, which is quickly replaced with wide eyes once he catches sight of you. It’s amusing to know that after spending so much time together, he still manages to get flustered from seeing you like this.

“Ready?” You wonder and he nods, closing the door on his way out. He’s opted out for wearing a simple pair of jeans, a light flush creeping onto your features as you catch the familiar stitched letters and numbers sprayed across his back. You can’t help but wonder why he would decide to wear your gift at this exact moment, but seeing him look so cozy in it does draw a smile from you. Heading down the halls of your dorm, you patiently wait for the elevator together.

It’s been roughly two weeks since your team won the last game in nationals. Afterwards you had to deal with a considerable amount of issues – namely the jabbing claim that your team didn’t deserve to win because you were a girl. The days leading up to the investigation had been terrifying, with Yoongi constantly having to reassure you that it’ll be okay and that you did nothing wrong. Thankfully, it was declared that the win was going to be acknowledged since you were technically a part of the team during the match. However, since you’re a female disguising yourself in a school that strictly catered only towards males, you would need to leave to uphold the institution’s guidelines.

The condition doesn’t faze you, rather it brings more relief than anything else. Since the school year is coming to an end and graduation is beginning to draw near, it leaves you feeling content with the idea.

Yoongi and Namjoon were extremely relieved as well, the two of them having been occupied with retrieving any new information and updating you about the matter. Namjoon had then noted that it was about time you had celebrated your victory with the entire team, arranging this meet-up for all of you.

You also took it upon yourself to not have a disguise around the guys anymore, deciding that from now on, you’ll be completely honest with them. Yoongi suggested you go together as well, a smile gracing your lips as he leads you into the large tent.

“Oh! Y/N and Yoongi are here!” Jimin exclaims, poking his head out from the back of Jackson’s head. Everyone whirls around at the sound of his voice, Yoongi stepping aside so that all eyes fall upon you.

You grow bashful at the immediate wide stares, taking a look around. Taehyung and Jungkook are standing next to one another, surprisingly near the Captain of your rival team who appears to have joined in on the celebration. Hoseok is with Jinyoung and Jaebum, entirely frozen in place. Namjoon and Soyoung are standing in the far corner, huge smiles lining their lips.

Your eyes stop at the front, where Jimin and Jackson stare at you in amazement.  

“H-Hi everyone….” You timidly whisper, suddenly feeling like all the attention was now becoming too much for you. Yoongi comes back, taking your hand and leading you straight into the cluster of people.

“Y/N!” Taehyung halts in front of you, eyes beaming, “Wow, seeing you now….”

“We kind of feel like idiots.” Jungkook concludes, a giggle leaving your lips. Hoseok passes through the crowd to get to you, appearing flabbergasted.

“Damn, I guess my theory was seriously wrong in the end…” He whispers, only for Taehyung and Jimin to share an exasperated look with each other.

“Theory?” You wonder, but Jimin quickly shrugs it off.

“Hoseok had this theory that you were hiding something from us because you were a spy.” Jimin explains, your eyes growing in size, “Who knew you being a girl would end up being more convincing?”

Hoseok nervously laughs but you offer him a warm smile. At least now you don’t need to be so heavily concerned about keeping this secret of yours under wraps.

A blonde patch of hair makes his way over, a playful smile on his lips.

“You look beautiful Y/N.”

“T-Thanks.” You mumble, suddenly noticing the atmosphere shift. It turns darker and you can already see a storm brewing above Taehyung and Jungkook’s heads.

Seokjin sighs, “They’re upset that I knew your secret before they did.” He reaches out, placing a finger under your chin, “But I must say, you really do have pretty features.”

A hand instantly slaps his away and you’re taken aback with the way Yoongi abruptly stands in front of you. Seokjin sighs again, pushing back a lock of his hair.

“I swear, all of you act as if I’m out to get her or something.”

“That’s because you were out to get her!” Taehyung protests.

“I think the only way to settle this is to ask Y/N herself.” Seokjin turns to you with a kind smile, drastically different from how he was on the court, “What do you say? Can’t we be friends?”

“Well…...” You nervously look around, a set of three dark eyes staring back at you. “Only if you promise to treat us all like friends, not rivals.”

“Deal.” Seokjin shakes your hand as a way to secure the promise and despite all the pleading looks frantically darting towards you, you return his smile. Your group decides to join Namjoon by the table, taking individual spots.

“I’ve been meaning to ask.” Taehyung brings up, drawing your attention, “When did Yoongi find out?”

Yoongi peers at you, warily wondering if you should take this one. “Uh well…it happened before I joined the team….”

Taehyung shifts in surprise, but then his memories begin to unwind, “Wait….I dragged you to the public gym showers with me…”

You nod with a grimace, “I made a theory of you being a spy.” Hoseok adds with a sigh.

“Yeah, that was kind of stupid of you guys.” Jungkook adds, Taehyung and Hoseok glaring at him as he takes a sip of his drink.

“Guys, it’s okay.” You smile, “I know all of that wasn’t in your intentions.”

“Uh Y/N?” You turn and Jimin sheepishly scratches his neck, “I’m really sorry for you know….walking in when you were changing….”

Jungkook instantly spits out the liquid, staring at Jimin in horror. Yoongi whips around too, everyone’s doomed gazes causing Jimin to shrink beside you.

“It’s okay! It’s okay!” You raise your hands to defend him, “It was an accident and Jimin didn’t know I was a girl. It’s okay.”

“Man, this shit is wild.” Seokjin whispers as he rummages through a bag of popcorn, eyes twinkling from the conversation. His actions earn a glare from Yoongi, who pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

“Anyone else want to bring up an unfortunate incident with Y/N?”

Namjoon chimes in, “This isn’t an incident but Y/N, you know Yoongi’s madly in love with you, right?”

Jungkook spits out his drink for the second time and Taehyung has a sly expression painted on his features. Jimin starts cutely cooing to his Captain and after overcoming his brief shock, Hoseok joins in with him. 

“Why are any of you even surprised?” Seokjin narrows his eyes, raising a piece of popcorn between his fingertips, “It’s so obvious from the way your Captain looks at her.”

“You seem to be the only one in this group with some amount of common sense.” Namjoon observes, Seokjin sending him a knowing smile.

“It’s strange hearing it like that out loud.” Jungkook acknowledges, searching around for a tissue and being grateful when Jimin hands him one.

“Also, watching Yoongi blush is a rare sight to see.” Hoseok points over at the red-haired individual pouting and hiding himself behind an overflowing bag of chips.

“He talks a lot about you.” Namjoon smiles tenderly, “I think I’ve heard more about you than anyone else in this team.”

“Wow, I see how it is.” Hoseok scoffs, crossing his arms.

“It’s okay Hoseok, I think you’re great!” Jimin envelopes him into a hug to which he appreciates. Hoseok chuckles, but a pout forms on his lips.

“I’m going to miss this so much guys.” He sighs, “Have any of you started thinking about future plans?”

“You mean college?” Hoseok nods and Taehyung continues, “Nope, I have no clue which one to choose.”

“I heard there’s one nearby here.” Jungkook points towards the left, “I’m going to try applying there and hope for the best.”

“I actually got offered a scholarship….” You try to bring up casually, but it elicits a range of emotions from across the table.

“That’s amazing Y/N!!” Jimin shouts.

“Is it for a sports school?” Namjoon questions, a bashful smile etching onto your lips.

You nod, “I applied after nationals finished. I got a response right away and they said after my new records came in, I could join.”

“Congrats Y/N.” Jungkook raises his drink, clinking it with your own.

“Thanks.” You glance over when Yoongi gently loops his fingers with yours, a sincere gaze in his eyes.  

“Hopefully we’ll get to see each other in the near future.”

You hum, a huge grin taking over your lips at the thought.

A couple of months later….

You swiftly spin around on your boots, the long coat draped over your shoulders swiveling as you do. A thick scarf rests on top of your coat and covers your mouth, locks of grown out hair dangling down the sides of your face. 

Cautiously scanning the various number plates hanging on the walls, a piece of crumpled paper appears from your pocket. 

“6…” You read, “13….”

Blinking, you glance at the number again. “613? Really?”

A laugh escapes you at that, the room door coming into sight. Raising your hand, a light knock resonates.

You softly smile. 

“Room…613..…” You whisper, scanning the various number plates, “610, 612…” You look on the right side, “611..…613!”

Inhaling a deep breath, your fist rattles against the door.

When it seems like time has begun to slow down and the chattering of your breath erratically increases, the door is finally yanked open. Your eyes and mouth are both wide, jaw nearly dropping at the young man that stands before you.

Long curly black locks fall down his forehead, resting delicately against his sun-kissed skin and nearly covering his surprised eyes. He’s dressed in a loose black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, a lollipop sticking out of his pursued lips.

“Jungkook-ah! Did you end up adopting a scrawny little kid and not tell me?!”

You shake your head with a chuckle, head darting up right when the door comes swinging open. There’s a giant smile casted onto her lips, tugging you inside immediately. 

“Finally!” She exclaims, “I was getting so lonely in here by myself!!”

“Sorry, I couldn’t find the elevator.” You sheepishly smile, letting Hyerin close the door behind you. Peering around, you’re pleasantly surprised to find the new apartment to be extremely airy and spacious. “Wow.”

“Right?” Hyerin laughs, “It’s perfect and close to both of our colleges!” She points over to the pile of boxes stacked in the corner, dusting them off. “I haven’t started unpacking my stuff yet, but we can start tonight once you bring your boxes!”

You nod, a small beeping sound coming from your bag. You take your phone out right away, planting it against the side of your face with a cheeky grin. 

After a moment, you throw it back into your bag, “Sorry, but I need to get going now.”

Hyerin shoos you off, “What are you waiting for then? Go quickly!” You laugh and head for the door, but her voice halts you.

“Y/N!”

You whirl around, “Yeah?”

“Say hi to him from me, will you?”

You smile.

“Of course.”

***

Pausing in the middle of the sidewalk, you kneel down to catch your frosted breath from the confines of your heavy coat. Sweat plasters to your lengthy hair, pieces sticking onto your forehead. Taking a glance in both directions, you keep dashing along the walkway until the giant court comes into view.

There’s a black snapback facing backwards on his head, a huge grey sweater engulfing his torso. He dribbles the bright orange ball in between his legs, occasionally switching them before taking a high jump and letting the ball sink in.

A loud cheer of high-pitched voices soar out, drawing your immediate attention. Two girls nearby ogle at him from the fence, squeals passing by their lips.

You frown, “Isn’t that him? Isn’t that the Min Yoongi?”

“He’s so good at basketball!”

“Should I ask for his number?? Do you think he’ll give it to me?”

You pout with that last inquiry, not quite noticing that the sudden drop in their hushed tones. You raise an eyebrow, only to feel the faintest brush of warm lips against your cold cheek.

Whirling around, Yoongi stands before you with the basketball pinned to the side of his hip, a devilish smile on his features.

“Jealous?” He wonders, but you hurriedly shake your head.

“N-No! Of course not!” You glance at the ground in dismay. Yoongi smiles, catching you completely off guard when he suddenly leans down and pecks your lips.

He chuckles at the immediate pink flushing over your skin, “How about now?”

“Starting to feel better...” You quietly murmur and when he presses his forehead against yours, you completely forget about it all together.

“Are you going to keep playing?” You wonder, glancing up at him, “We’re already running a couple of minutes late.”

Yoongi shakes his head, “I was just passing time while waiting for you.”

You smile, grasping onto his hand in excitement, “Good, because there's a lot I have to tell you!”

Yoongi kicks away the discarded basketball he found in the court, walking alongside you. “If it’s about Taehyung’s new haircut, I don’t want to know. I’ve seen enough from the pictures he’s sent me.”

You giggle, “Not that! Though I imagine he is going to show it off today. Apparently it took Jungkook three hours to figure out how to use a razor on his permed hair.” You shake your head, getting too sidetracked, “My records got confirmed and I took the scholarship.” 

Yoongi pauses in his steps, “Is it for the same school I just got accepted into?” 

You nod with a smile, “I moved into my new apartment with Hyerin today, meaning I’ll be seeing you around for a long time.”  

His eyes grow tender, “That’s great, Y/N.”

You sigh, “I only wish now that I could still see everyone else too. It sucks being so far away.”

“Well we’ll be able to see them if Seokjin keeps throwing these parties of his.” Yoongi leans closer to you, a sly smile on his lips, “Besides, maybe you can ask all of them to disguise themselves as girls so they can attend our school too.”

The image appears in your mind and it instantly gives you goosebumps of cringe. You shake your head and Yoongi laughs from your reaction, letting you lean your head on his shoulder when the breeze in the air increases. Upon reaching Seokjin’s place, you’re greeted to a handful of familiar faces, all lighting up at the sight of you and Yoongi.

You’re being squished into a group hug with him and Yoongi complains that he can’t breathe anymore when Hoseok practically hangs off of his neck, but then your eyes make contact and you can only laugh together at how much of a weird loving team you’ve managed to find yourselves apart of. 

Especially when the future only has even more precious years to come. 

[june-louise]

The Telephone Call - part two

Since many of you felt robbed from what you had expected in the first telephone call, here is another one. Rated M.

Elizabeth/Philip from The Crown. Set during Philip’s Royal tour in season 2.

…

They had decided to have another telephone call before Philip went onboard Britannia again, and continuing his journey by sea. The tour, especially when making the planned stops, was pre-planned and mostly went on according to a busy schedule. Even though, Elizabeth had felt a sickness in her stomach these last couple of days. It was silly, she thought, because they had gone months without speaking and now, she had a hard time living through just a few days. Perhaps it had been better to not speak at all, because she seemed to have coped better then.

Wondering if people had noticed she had been distracted the whole day, Elizabeth made her way early – after putting the children to bed – to her private quarters. She could not focus on work anyway.  

She had made clear instructions that no one bother her, for anything, until morning. This could be the last call with Philip for an awfully long time, and everything else could wait. At least until morning.

As she undressed and pulled the white, linen nightgown over her head, she felt the familiar doubt clench her stomach. Maybe he had forgotten, or got hung up, or something was to be wrong with the telephone line. She tried to shrug the feeling off and focus on her night routine. She placed her feet into the slippers, and put the light pink silk robe around her, tightening it up to her neckline.  

To keep her distracted from waiting, after cleaning her skin, she sat by her desk and opened her diary.

“Tuesday.

Anne learned to write the alphabet; she has been struggling for weeks. We all celebrated her, and she was extremely proud. Charles, as the older child, also took part of the pride for helping teach his sister. I was proud of them both. They really should have a proper education. I must-“

She was interrupted by the familiar sound, and immediately put the pen down to go answer the telephone. She sat down in the sofa, a smile erupting on her face, as she spoke. “Hello.”

“Hello, darling,” Philip said in a smug voice, and she imagined him drawing an invisible line around his chin with his hand. “I am not calling too late, am I?” 

Elizabeth beamed, happy to hear his voice but also feeling a bit nervous. “No, no, darling.”

“Good, then.”

After a few moments silence, Elizabeth spoke. “I hope you have enjoyed yourself in the Falkland Islands. Must be a bit sad to get on the yacht again?”

“It’s been alright, although it’s getting a little tiresome to do this after so many weeks, you know. And I like it onboard Britannia. It’s become one’s home now.”

Elizabeth felt a sting of hurt by his words, as she was partly if not only to blame for him not being in their home right now. She cleared her throat. “Well, this home is waiting for your safe arrival. And we are happy that you are finally sailing closer to us with each day.” She hoped to reassure him that he was well-missed. “Charles even made a countdown, with help from Anne and me, so that everyday we feel you are closer to being with us again.” Elizabeth had found Charles’ idea of a countdown a great idea, so she had made sure to help him make a big painting with boxes they each day could put a mark over to mark the days left on the Royal tour.

Philip seemed touched as well, and his voice softened. “That sounds nice.” She could tell that he missed the children, and she again felt that sting of guilt for she knew that Philip had been against leaving the children in the first place. It was very much the same for the children, who kept asking her about where daddy was and what animals he was visiting.

“They miss you a lot, but they are alright,” Elizabeth tried to reassure him, not wanting him to be sad where he was hundreds of miles away.

“Well, not too long now,” Philip said with a sigh. “So, you helped them with the countdown,” he continued in question, this time in a lighter voice which made Elizabeth calm slightly.

“Yes,” she started, knowing her in the playing room was maybe not natural for him to imagine. “It was all Charles’ idea, though me and Anne assisted. I even made a drawing of you at his request.” Elizabeth chuckled, and Philip laughed out loud. They both knew she was a terrible painter, and that he was the artistic one of them two.

“Well, I am sure you are doing your best, but I am not sure you’re doing me justice.” He was referring to the drawing, although she knew his words replied to playing with the children in general, too. Elizabeth knew she could never replace him, even though she tried extra hard these days to be a good mother.

“Well, you will return soon and then all will be back to normal, with you being their favourite.” Elizabeth could not help but let her voice grow a bit harsh, covering up the fact that she was hurt and disappointed by the fact that she was and could not be a better mother. 

“You are a good mother, Elizabeth,” Philip tried to reassure her, recognising the cause of the shifted tone in her voice. He knew her better than she knew herself, a sometimes very annoying fact Elizabeth thought.

“We both know I could be better,” she sighed, knowing she was sulking but also knowing the words were partly truthful.  

Philip seemed unusually gentle. “Yes, and look at you now. Tucking them in, reading them books and even drawing.” Philip chuckled, and the mood grew lighter again. “What else could they possibly need?”

Elizabeth shook her head even though he could not see but could not help the smile spreading on her lips. Philip could somehow always make her feel more okay about herself. She knew that he accepted her, all parts of her, even the parts she sometimes found hard to accept herself. Elizbeth only ever hid from him when she was in denial or when she did not want to see herself. Because somehow, Philip always saw straight through her. As she imagined, she did with him.

Philip continued, his voice decisive and strong. “You are the queen. And a mother, a daughter, a sister. A wife. No one could do all those things like you do.”

Elizabeth felt herself soften, appreciating his words. “Thank you.”

“Now,” Philp said, and it was obvious that he wished to change the topic. “Since I might not get to talk to my wife for some time, tell me what you’re wearing so I will have something to be reminded of when I am out at sea.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, this time not as taken by surprise as their last call, and she felt an excitement spread through her body. “Well,” she started and played with the band of her robe close to her neckline. “I did prepare for bed, so I am in my nightgown-“

He interrupted her, ever as impatient. “Let me guess, you are sitting on the sofa and you have your pink robe on, all buttoned up.”

She chuckled, amused at how well he knew her, or how predictable she was. “You know me, not much surprise here.”

“I do know you,” Philip agreed, and she could hear him shift on his side of the line. “And I do know how to unbutton that robe,” he continued suggestively. “Pretty as it is on you, why don’t you loosen it up for me?”

She found that it was suddenly too hot and thought that his suggestion was indeed a good idea. She started to loosen the bands of the robe. “Alright, I will.” She released the bands and opened the buttons holding the fabric together, deciding to take it off completely, pulling her arms out of the silk fabric and let the robe fall from her shoulders. She was left in the nightgown, covering her from top to toe.

“Better,” Philip asked after a few moments, his voice causing shivers run through her body not at all caused by the absence of the robe.

“Yes,” Elizabeth mumbled as she composed her beathing.

Philip continued, the playfulness in his voice making her giddy. “Now, if I dare be bold enough to ask you another favour?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth whispered, anxiously wanting to know what he was about to ask.

“Since I am only wearing my robe, why don’t you do the same? You know how I love your bare skin underneath that robe?”

Elizabeth was now full on blushing, slightly surprised by how much she was enjoying this. Hearing his voice, imagining him on the other side of the line and being the one making him feel good.

“Hold on,” she said and put the phone down on the cushions next to her. She stood up, stepped out of the slippers and lifted the gown over her head. She could not help but imagine it was Philip doing it, his strong hands lifting the white fabric, carefully brushing against her skin as the gown was removed from her body.

She was left naked for just a moment, and she took a glance around her, strangely feeling a bit funny naked in her own bedroom. She placed the gown and slippers on the opposite chair and lifted the robe to bring it around her body again, this time feeling the soft silk against her bare skin.

“Elizabeth,” she heard Philip’s voice through the abandoned phone and quickly picked it up.

“Sorry, darling. Could not do it with the phone in my hand.”

She heard him groan. “You’re killing me here.”

“I only did what you asked, dear.” Elizabeth said and smiled, loving the effect she had on him. She sat down again on the sofa and imagined Philip in his room. “Are you on the bed again?”

“I am, and I am getting quite worked up here,” Philip said, and she thought she heard a soft moan. She felt her neck redden at the thought of him on the bed, and what he could mean by getting worked up.

She straightened where she sat and felt her chest tighten. She knew her breasts was one of his favourite things and he was usually quite fast to give them his attention whenever they were alone and in bed.

“What are you thinking about,” he asked and interrupted her thoughts. Her breathing was quite exasperated, and she again shifted.

“I,” she started, but her mouth was dry, and she had to swallow. She nervously laughed.

“Tell me,” he encouraged, and she gave in.

“About you where you are, and what you would do if you were here with me.”

“And what would I do, Elizabeth,” he pressed.  

She closed her eyes and felt her breathing quicken. Her voice was quiet when she spoke. “Touch me.”

“I would,” Philip concurred. “Where would I touch you?”

“My breasts,” Elizabeth got out as if the words were somewhat forbidden. She was not used to talk like this, even though she had no problem doing said things with him. This was different, more intimate somehow.

Philip moaned again and she felt a relief and safety knowing that he was enjoying this as much as she was, even though she did not know what to do or say. “I would. I’d touch that soft, perfect skin.” She kept her eyes closed and imagined he would press his hands through the opening of her robe and take her breast into his hands, caressing the skin, his thumbs rubbing the hardness of her nipples. He always was an excellent lover, having no problem worshiping her in bed. She let a moan escape her lips and surprised to hear herself she opened her eyes, her heart beating hard against her chest.

Philip kept talking to her though, urging her to close her eyes . “You’d close your eyes, enjoying the feeling. I love those breasts almost as much as I love watching your pleasure from my touch, so I would watch you, as I first touched you with my hands, and thumbs. I would not be able to stop myself from touching you with my lips though, so I’d kiss you-,” he interrupted himself and she heard his intake of breath. “Are you touching yourself, darling,” he softly said, and it was not as much of a question but an urge.

Elizabeth carefully let her hand travel up her robe and move over the sensitive skin through the fabric, “Yes,” she whispered and hearing his content moan she let her hand wander underneath the robe to mimic what his hand would have done. She released a moan and felt a warmth rush to her most private parts. “It feels good.”

“I bet it does,” Philip sighed in equal pleasure, and Elizabeth thought about where his actual hand was at this moment.

“You know,” she started tenderly. “As much as I love your kisses, there, if you were here, I’d want to kiss your lips. Really kiss you. It makes me feel close to you,” she softly said and felt herself long for his lips, his tongue, his taste. “And I’d remove the robes, so I could feel your skin against mine.” It was almost too much, too much want for him to be near, and she felt herself grow braver by each second of desire. Why had she ever let herself think it was a good idea to be away from each other for this long?

“I’d hold you close, pressing your skin against me, kissing you until we’d have to stop for air. Then I’d kiss the skin on your neck, breathing in your wonderful smell,” he continued ever as eager and she could almost feel his lips peppering her neck with kisses, his tongue tasting her, causing waves of pleasure run through her body. She imagined clinging to him, wanting him closer, hooking her legs around his.

“It would all be too much, and I’d want you closer,” she whispered into his ear and it was almost as if the phone was not there as a barrier between them. “I’d pull you down on me and wrap my legs around yours.”

Her last words seemed to be too much for him, and she heard him groan. Instinctively she realised she had widened her legs, and as she opened her eyes, she saw that the robe had fallen open. It felt strange to see herself like this, so she closed her eyes again and imagined Philip was there with her.

Philip moaned into her ear and spoke. “I’d reach my hand down to feel you, make sure you were ready,” he said, and Elizabeth gasped, carefully letting her hand mimic what Philip’s would do.

“I’d do the same, to you,” she murmured and imagined his hand mimicking what hers would do. She could almost feel him, the familiar warmth of him. “I would be ready,” Elizabeth whispered after a few more moments and felt her body tingle as she awaited for what to come next. To feel him, be as close together as two people could be.

“Me, too,” Philip whispered as their breathing fell in sync, their moans creating a melody of pleasure. 

[soudam-appreciation]

Carousel (2)

Kazuichi flopped across his bed for what must have been the 30th time in the past hour. He couldn't believe how nervous he was getting, and he still had... Several hours to go? No, that couldn't be right, he had several hours left days ago. Swallowing the lump forming in his stomach, he rolled over to check his alarm clock.

6:13.

Only 6:13?! God, this sucks! I can't believe I have to wait for another whole hour! Kazuichi groaned. He had been 'getting ready' in his room for what felt like forever. He had his t-shirt and jeans, he had his comfy jacket, he even had his shoes on. It felt like time had slowed to a stop.

He decided that maybe now would be a good time to take a nap.

. . .

Gundham sighed. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he felt the two tickets waiting. He debated going back home. After all, he wasn't sure if Sonia had even managed to find anyone willing to go with him, and it was never any fun going to a carnival alone.

He pulled out his phone, avoiding the tickets altogether. The clock read 7:58. Maybe he should call Sonia? He was tired of waiting behind the ticket booth, and the smells of the food inside was going to make him sick. Besides, he had told security he was just waiting for someone 20 minutes ago. It would be a miracle if they didn't drag him off the property soon.

Brrrrrring! *click*.

"Hello? You've reached Sonia Nevermind!"

"Ah, wonderful. Just who I was hoping to speak with."

"Gundham? What's up! How is the carnival?"

Grumbling, he tried to explain that he hadn't been inside, since apparently whoever she called was considerably late. However, it probably sounded a lot more like a series of growls.

"What's wrong? I-Isn't... haven't they met you there yet?"

"Well, you see..." He sighed. He didn't know why exactly he had called, but at least he had someone to talk to now. "No, they haven't."

"What? They should have met you... About half an hour ago! Right?"

She was right.

"Sonia, I do not know if they will arrive. It's far too late, and it's beginning to get dark. You know how the autumn is." Crouching down, Gundham found a small stick and started drawing tiny summoning circles in the dirt at his feet. "...I think I may simply return home if they are not present soon."

"No, wait! Don't do that!"

Beeeep! *click*.

She hung up on me... He sighed again. Putting his phone back in his pocket, he continued to draw very small ritual circles until he was surrounded.

. . .

Two trucks, having sex! Two trucks, having sex! My muscles, my muscles, invo-

Groaning, Kazuichi picked up the phone. He hadn't realized he was sleeping, but Jesus that was annoying. "Yeah. who is it."

"Kazuichi?"

"M-Miss Sonia?" He felt a wave of confusion wash over him. What exactly was he supposed to do? Why was she calling him? What?

"Kazuichi, have you been at home?"

"Uhh, yeah, why?" His head was heavy and he was unbelievably groggy. Why was she asking him questions?

"And was it your intention to leave Gundham to visit the event by himself?"

Gundham? Gundham Tanaka? What about him? Kazuichi shook his head, trying to clear the fog. "What? I don't get it, why are you asking about-"

Gundham.

He jumped to his feet. "Oh, shit! Shit, I fell asleep! Shit, I'm so sorry, I- I completely- oh SHIT!" Mind no longer on Miss Sonia, he hung up, grabbed his wallet, shoved it and his phone into his pockets, and bolted out of his room. He was on a mission now, and nothing in the WORLD would stop him from getting to that carnival.

. . .

Gundham stood. His legs had begun to go numb from the awkward position. He still wasn't sure why  Sonia had hung up, or if she had a reason at all, but it didn't matter now. He was only going to wait a few more minutes before he went home. 

. . .

Sprinting to his rusty old pickup, Kazuichi sped away with alarming speed. He would probably have died if there was anyone nearby.

. . .

Gundham checked the time again; it was still 8:10. He wasn't sure why he was anxious, whether he wanted them there or not, but he was. He was getting so very, very anxious.

. . .

Easily reaching 70+ mph on the tiny city street, Kazuichi prayed there wouldn't be anyone else stupid enough to be out driving tonight.

. . .

Gundham sighed yet again. Tonight was looking to be a night full of sighs. He checked the time again. 8:11.

. . .

Kazuichi was just close enough that he could see the other cars in the parking lot. Scrambling to get his wallet, he slowed as he reached the parking booth.

. . .

Gundham looked at his phone again, put it back in his pocket, and took out the two tickets. He couldn't believe he had spent so much money on something he wasn't even going to use. He glared at the sparkly cardstock but found himself to be more sad than angry.

. . .

Tires squealed as Kazuichi pulled haphazardly into a parking space. He just barely managed to snatch his keys from the ignition as he leaped from the vehicle. Slamming the door and hitting the ground running, he wove through the layers and layers of parked cars. The lights of the carnival were in sight, but shit, they felt so damn far away.

. . .

Waving an apology to the Ticketmaster, Gundham began the slow trek back to his car. He didn't know what he had expected, but he hadn't prepared to be so... disappointed. He directed his sullen gaze toward the ground, kicking up dust as he walked.

. . .

The end was in sight! He was so close- so, so close-

Hey, is that him? Wait, please don't get distracted right now! You’re going 30 miles an hour-

Squealing into an empty parking space, he barely snatched his keys from the ignition before leaping from the car. He had to get to Gundham before he left.

. . .

"Yo, Gundham!" Someone was shouting at him? Gundham's head snapped up, and he tried to locate the source of the sound.

Souda??

He saw the pink-haired mortal barreling towards him at record speeds. He didn't have time to ask why, though, it even question it in his mind for very long, because-

Whump.

Both fell tumbling to the ground as the brightly colored idiot collided with the edgelord.

. . .

Kazuichi scrambled to his feet, his face hot. He hadn't meant to lose control of where he was going, but when he had realized what was happening it was too late. At least I wasn't in the car, he thought.

Holding out his hand to Gundham, who was dazed and laying on the ground, he mumbled out a stuttering apology. "A-are you ok?"

. . .

Gundham reached for Soda's outstretched hand, trying to ground his world and what had just happened. He pulled himself to his feet with the help offered, glaring at his... assistant? Assailant? Whatever he was, he caught the full force of Gundham's long-practiced death stare. 

"What in all Hells just happened?"

Soda turned his gaze to the ground, mumbling some more. "I'm sorry Gundham, I thought I could pass the time easier and then I lost control, and-"

"Whatever. Why are you here and  what do you mean 'pass the time'?" After waiting several more moments in silence, he continued his path to his mother's car. "Do not waste mine."

"Gundham, please wait!" 

He turned on his heel, continuing to glare. However, he stopped when he saw Kazuichi bowing to him. 

"Look, I'm really sorry, ok? I really do wanna hang out with you, I didn't mean to fall asleep! I really really get it if you don't wanna be near me anymore tonight, and I'm so sorry again!" 

Gundham, taken aback, stumbled several steps away from Souda's distressed form. "Wh- Y- you-" His bandaged arm flailed helplessly, confusion causing his form to waver. "Wh- what do- what do you m-mean... 'hang out'?" 

Souda straightened his posture momentarily before shrinking into himself, hands shoved deep into his pockets. "W-well, I mean... I mean M-Miss Sonia..." His voice wavered, hesitation tracing his features and settling heavily upon his form. "Sonia... Sonia invited me..."

Realization struck Gundham, and he staggered yet again. Silence fell upon the two as he regained conscious thought, heart skipping several beats while the realization that he would be spending several hours at an event with Souda. 

"P-pardon me...? You said... You said, er, that..." Gundham began to fidget with the beaded clasp at the elbow of his bandage wrapped arm, uncertainty and confusion allowing other nervous occurrences. "You said... Sonia?" 

"Yeah, and she said if I couldn't go she'd find somebody else..."

"O-oh..." 

After a few more moments of silence, Souda mumbled, "So... What do you... what do you think?" 

Gundham sucked in a breath, stood up straight, and crossed his arms close to his chest. 

"Fine."

[captorations]

Echoes

I suppose this qualifies for @miraculous-events Alyanette Week, Day 2: Baking, but it was specifically prompted by this drawing by @buggachat. I didn’t intend to do Alyanette Week, and probably won’t do any more, but I saw that cute artwork, had a related cute idea, and then turned that cute idea into a hurt/comfort idea. I then entered an unknowable godlike state, and when I exited it some hours later, this fic had manifested. This is known as the writing process.

---------------------------------------------------------------

A great deal had been lost in the events surrounding Miracle Queen’s reign. Her mentor. Her allies, save for one. Her burgeoning faith in Chloé Bourgeois. Even her love.

Well, she didn’t lose her crush on Adrien. It just… changed. And was joined by another.

Marinette had woken up that morning believing she was a straight girl who could only ever love and be loved by one person. And while that night was plagued by far worse terrors than the realization that Kagami Tsurugi now held a place in her heart along Adrien Agreste, and that she was okay with that and every implication thereof, it was a part of her new reality all the same.

In the weeks that followed, Papillon all but vanished. Oh, every now and then some minor irritant of an akuma would pop up, but nothing dangerous or that made Ladybug miss her allies for more than emotional reasons. Mayura had gone completely off the grid and had yet to resurface. Marinette questioned whether her snatching victory from the jaws of defeat, more drastically than ever before, had shaken Papillon’s resolve; after all, the Turtle Miraculous had been left unguarded on the wrist of an unconscious old man, and the villain hadn’t bothered to take it. Or make an attempt at the Miracle Box, still held by a teenager throwing a temper tantrum.

Perhaps Papillon simply wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. That was a comforting thought, but not one Marinette could rely on. At any rate, the recent if likely temporary dearth of akuma had allowed Marinette to, at her own pace and leisure, tell the other heroes the bad news. All but one.

Kim and Max, who had only wielded the power of the Miraculous two and three times respectively including the forced transformation, didn’t seem to mind. Kim in particular had been more interested in the chance to arm-wrestle one of the saviours of Paris than the danger he was now possibly in. She’d let him win.

Luka, as ever, took the news calmly. Ladybug cut that meeting short, unable to handle those pale, kind eyes that seemed to look right through her. Only a day previously had the boy told her civilian self that he was glad her heart had begun to sing more clearly, even if it wasn’t for him as he’d hoped. How he’d guessed, she had no clue.

Kagami already knew, somehow or another. Perhaps Chat had told her? Ladybug hadn’t stayed long enough to ask, fearful that her Marinette-like stuttering in the girl’s presence might somehow override magic powerful enough to disguise her identity from her own parents. That would be just her luck. At any rate, Kagami could handle herself. The girl was a warrior, with or without the Dragon.

Nino… poor Nino. It’d hurt him. Of everyone Ladybug knew, Nino Lahiffe was very possibly the most suited to the mask. He had the pure heart of a real hero and the drive to protect others that made for a perfect Turtle. Those same traits, however, had meant that he’d accepted the loss and promised to help however he could regardless. Even if it put him in danger again. Overwhelmed, Ladybug had hugged him.

So that left Alya.

Alya.

Alya, who had inspired Marinette to be Ladybug in the first place. Alya, who was her best friend. Alya, who loved being Rena Rouge more than anything in the world.

How could Marinette have let this happen?

“You have to tell her!” chirped Tikki. The kwami had given her the space she’d requested, but the longer Marinette put it off, the more insistent the reminders grew. True, Papillon hadn’t made any kind of move against her revealed allies, and Marinette wasn’t even sure what she’d do if he did. The fact remained that the now ex-heroes needed to be aware of their vulnerability.

“I know. I just…”

“Marinette.”

The girl looked up from her homework. When Tikki said her name like that, she meant business. Every now and then, Marinette remembered she was dealing with a god millions of times her age. The tiny stature and squeaky voice made it easy to forget. “I… I’ll do it tomorrow.”

Tikki sighed. “Alright. I know it won’t be easy. But I think you’re underestimating her, Marinette.”

“What?”

“Your friend is stronger than you give her credit for. She’ll be okay.”

“That’s not it.” Marinette bit her lip. “What if… what if she hates me? She loves Ladybug so much. She thinks I’m perfect. She says so all the time. What will she do when she finds out I messed up so badly?”

The kwami wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I don’t think that’s what Alya means by perfect.”

“What?”

“Never mind.” Tikki flew in and gave Marinette a reassuring pat on the forehead. “Alya wouldn’t hate you. Not Ladybug, and certainly not Marinette. Trust me.”

“…Okay.”

  She could absolutely not do this.

Her best friend had spent the school day chattering away, happy as ever. Max and Kim were unaffected, though it had been some time now since she’d told them. Nino had gotten the news the preceding weekend, and only looked a little withdrawn. Adrien had asked after him, and he’d made up some story about a band he liked breaking up. Oddly, Adrien hadn’t quite seemed to accept that answer, and had insisted on treating Nino to lunch. That left Marinette alone with Alya, who was going over the noted lack of substantial akumas and what it could mean.

Marinette hadn’t said much. When Alya had asked if she was okay, Marinette had shakily parroted the question back at her, and then all but run away. Now, as Ladybug, perched on the roof of Alya’s apartment building, she was too scared to confront her.

Eventually, she gathered the scraps of her courage and slipped down the couple of stories to her best friend’s window. She didn’t even get to knock before the window shot open, Alya having picked up the subtle sounds of her approach as usual. “Hey, Ladybug. Got a scoop for me?”

Her excitement burned. Ladybug shook her head. “No recording this time, Alya.”

Oh no. That just made Alya brighten even further. Ladybug berated herself for being so stupid. That’s what she said when she was giving Alya her miraculous. Already, the girl had dismissed the aura of the Ladyblogger and was assuming that of Rena Rouge. She was looking at Ladybug’s yo-yo expectantly, waiting to see Trixx again.

Ladybug swallowed. There was a lump in her throat.

“Alya, I have some bad news…”

  A hero of Paris wasn’t allowed to cry. Not in public. Still, by the time she made it to her rooftop, tears were beading at the corners of her eyes. And as the pink light faded and Tikki rematerialized, Marinette collapsed on her bed, the tears flowing freely.

“It broke her, Tikki,” she blurted out to the concerned kwami in between the sobs wracking her body. “She just… stopped. It hurt so much. I couldn’t even stay, I just ran. I’m such a coward.”

“Marinette?”

“You were wrong. She might not hate me, but she hates Ladybug, and she deserves to. I shouldn’t be her friend, she deserves better than me.”

“Marinette!”

“Tikki, wha-”

The kwami threw her phone at her. Her buzzing phone. A quick glance confirmed her worst fears: a call from Alya. She shrieked and threw it to the other side of the bed. “No, no, I can’t, please don’t…”

The phone eventually stopped, and some minutes later, so did Marinette’s panic attack. As her heartbeat gradually slowed and she began to work her way past the paralysis gripping her mind and body, she heard Tikki’s voice.

“Marinette. Talk to her. You need her too.”

This time, Marinette didn’t argue. The kwami was right. She needed her Alya, and her Alya needed her. Shakily, she reached over and picked up her phone. Her best friend had left a couple messages.

Alya: Hey. Rough night. Mind if I head over? We haven’t had a sleepover in a while. Been missing you.

Alya: You’re not answering, and there’s no akuma, so you aren’t hiding somewhere. That means you probably can’t talk. Must be a rough night for us both, then. Be there in a few.

Marinette took a deep breath in, held it, and exhaled. She could do this.

Mere minutes later, Alya arrived, and Marinette slipped downstairs to let her in.

Her best friend was a little scattered and drained. That much was obvious at a glance. She’d been crying. Then again, so had Marinette, and she admitted as much when Alya accused her of it. “Want to talk about it?”

“No. You?”

“No. Or… not right now. Maybe later,” said Alya.

This was new. It was rare that they didn’t talk about what was bothering them. Marinette in particular only was unwilling to share during particularly bad moments, the ones where she couldn’t speak at all. In the ensuing silence, Marinette’s mind cast around for something for them to do, and settled on a task she’d been putting off. Tikki needed a resupply, and there was only so much of her parents’ baked goods she could steal. “Want to make cookies with me?”

Alya smiled. “Sure.”

  Maybe they shouldn’t have done this in the bakery proper. While Marinette was setting up, Alya had to shoo away a couple late night would-be customers, who were confused upon seeing the lights on. One of them didn’t speak French, but at least spoke the universal language of pointing and a dead-eyed glare from a tired, irritated teenage girl. Soon enough, they were left in peace.

Marinette went to fetch Alya an apron. She was about to pick an orange one, then stopped and chose a pink one like hers instead. Alya didn’t need any reminders of Rena Rouge tonight.

They got started, Marinette mostly directing Alya. The bakers’ daughter could do this in her sleep, and very nearly had before. Alya was more used to making proper meals for her younger siblings, not treats. They chatted as they worked, both carefully avoiding any mention of superheroes or akumas or anything even vaguely hinting that they lived in a city where magic ran rampant.  

Marinette cut herself off while complaining about the previous week’s math test. “Wait, I’m an idiot. I forgot the flour. Hang on.” She spotted a bag resting on an overhead shelf and went over to it.

“Pretty sure that’s too high for you, girl,” said Alya without turning around. “I was going to get it.”

“No, I can do it, one sec-”

She jumped for it, grabbed it- and promptly tumbled down with it, the bag opening and spilling all over Alya. Letting out a yelp, Marinette scrambled to her feet with her usual levels of grace to find Alya, hair and back fully coated in white, leaning on the counter shaking.

“Oh no, are you-”

Wait, she was laughing. She was absolutely laughing. Giggles burst from her chest, and despite the mess and the horrible day they’d both had, Marinette began to laugh too.

“Smooth, girl,” Alya eventually managed. “Top ten non-Adrien-related fumbles. Wish I’d caught that on video. Been meaning to set up a blog devoted to documenting and rating your ability to turn any ordinary situation into an absolute disaster.”

This was a joke Alya had made before. Marinette stuck her tongue out at her. “Well maybe I’ll make a blog dedicated to the question: when will Alya Césaire have enough blogs?”

“I can answer that for you right now, and it’s never. Anyway, should we clean this up?”

Marinette shook her head. “My parents always say if you try to clean as you go while baking you’ll never get anything done. Finish first, then I’ll get the broom.”

  They finished the cookies and returned the kitchen to a reasonably pre-disaster state soon enough, and Alya went to the bathroom to clean up while Marinette went up to her room to fetch spare pajamas.

It wasn’t the first time that Marinette’s missteps had resulted in Alya needing to borrow some clothes. At least this time she didn’t need to repair anything. Fixing a skirt which Marinette had briefly managed to light on fire while Alya was still wearing it (long story) had been a pain.

When she returned, Alya was staring at herself in the mirror, apparently completely transfixed. Her hands were gripping the edge of the sink like a lifeline. Marinette was confused for a moment, then it hit her.

Alya had managed to wash out most of the flour, but there was still a decent bit of white in her hair. Specifically, around the ends. Put an orange and white mask on her face and she’d look just like…

The girl who had been Rena Rouge stared at herself in the mirror, taunted by this echo of the hero who she could never be again, and couldn’t bring herself to look away.

Marinette had never been akumatized. There had been a couple of close calls, but Marinette had always made certain to not let anger overtake her completely. That, or direct it at Papillon. He seemed reluctant to akumatize anyone that would only try to use the power to hunt him down. Here and now, both those mitigating factors applied. What anger there was, on Alya’s behalf, was directed at the man who, in the end, was the cause of all this.

More than that, however, a completely different emotion dominated Marinette. A light, airy, but somehow burning feeling in her chest that threatened to lift her off her feet with its intensity. She wanted nothing but to make sure Alya never felt this kind of pain again, to sweep her away and hide her from anything and anyone that would do her harm. To see her smile again, the way that she had the day she became Rena Rouge, and never lose sight of that joy. To let Alya just be herself, with Marinette at her side.

Oh.

That was love, wasn’t it.

The realization was a calm one. When Kagami had begun sharing space in her heart, it had freaked her out for a whole host of reasons. Alya, however, was already there. She had always been, hadn’t she? Marinette had just never believed it was something she could feel for anyone but Adrien. Much less another girl. From one to two was a giant leap. From two to three… what difference was that, really?

Well, actually, there was a great deal of difference. Doubt riddled her every interaction with Adrien and Kagami. She was friends with them, yes, but she didn’t know them as well as she’d like to. That was the primary cause of her awkwardness around them; she didn’t know how to act or what to do. What to say, what not to say. Who to be.

Alya, however. Marinette knew Alya. Her heart didn’t speed up, looking up at Alya’s face, fully aware that her feelings for the girl were no longer merely platonic (if they ever really had been). It slowed down instead, a warm sense of peace filling her. She loved Alya Césaire, and in no reality would Alya Césaire hate her for it, even if she didn’t feel the same.

She wouldn’t be stuttering around this crush. The words came as easily as they always did, though Marinette chose them carefully. “Enjoying the view?”

Alya jolted out of her reverie. With one last, long look at her reflection, she turned away and smiled thinly at Marinette. “Sorry. Lost in thought. Go ahead upstairs, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Marinette did so, her heart still full to bursting.

  Alya hadn’t asked again about whatever was upsetting Marinette. Instead, the two simply ate the cookies they’d made as they chatted, Marinette hoping that Alya wouldn’t notice the occasional extra one going missing. Really, Tikki should know better.

Finally, something shifted in Alya’s tone. “Can… can I tell you something, Marinette?”

There was no question in Marinette’s mind as to what Alya was about to tell her. The strict, professional hero part of her wanted to scold Alya, but the best friend, the teenager, and the girl in love won out. Alya needed this, and what did it matter, really? She couldn’t be blamed for not being perfect, for not wanting to suffer in silence.

Maybe Marinette shouldn’t blame herself for that, either. “Yes, of course, Al.”

“I… I was Rena Rouge. Was. Ladybug came by today and said… during Chloe’s last akumatization, all the other heroes besides her and Chat Noir were mind controlled and Papillon saw their faces. I’ll never be Rena again.”

Both her hands were curled into fists and shaking. The pain was evident in every word. Once again, Marinette was struck with the desire to do something, anything, to relieve the weight on Alya’s shoulders. The urge almost knocked the wind out of her.

Uh oh. She’d forgotten to show any kind of surprise. Her best friend was staring at her now, mental gears clicking into place. Even in despair, the reporter instincts never completely left her.

“You already knew, didn’t you,” whispered Alya.

Marinette couldn’t lie to her face. Even if it meant Alya figuring out her identity, she couldn’t hurt her like that. “Yes.”

A long sigh was her response. “I thought so. It all made sense. You’ve been acting weird around me for weeks. Treating me like I was about to break. I couldn’t figure out why, and then Ladybug… well, you know the story. She must have told you first. I know you were a hero too, at some point. Chat Noir mentioned it once, said he wanted Ladybug to give you another chance.”

He what. “That stupid cat,” she muttered.

Alya caught her words. “Don’t blame him. I think he was mostly talking to himself and forgot I was there. Foxes are pretty sneaky, after all. And if it’s okay… can you tell me about it?”

Tikki shifted in her pocket. Marinette ignored her. “I was called Multimouse. I helped them with Kwamibuster. But Chat Noir saw me detransform, and besides the Mouse isn’t really all that useful most of the time, so…”

“Oh? What does the Mouse do?”

“Duplication, but you shrink as you divide. There were a bunch of little mes running around for a few minutes. It’s kind of a blur. Frankly, Al, I’m relieved I haven’t had to do it again.”

Alya hummed thoughtfully, a smile creeping onto the edge of her face. “What would you call a bunch of Marinettes? A herd? A cluster? Given your affinity for chaos, I’d say a cataclysm, but that’s taken.” She snapped her fingers. “A pandemonium. A pandemonium of Marinettes. Perfect.”

Marinette started to laugh, but suddenly a shadow passed over Alya’s face. “And that means you must have gotten caught in Chloé’s trap just like us. Papillon might be after you too. And since Ladybug’s recruits started with me… that’s means it’s my fault you’re in danger. I’m… I’m so sorry, Marinette, I know you don’t want anything to do with all this-”

“Your fault?” Marinette growled. Alya looked up, clearly astonished at her tone.

“Your fault, that Ladybug trusted you? Your fault, that she believed in you with every bit of her heart? Your fault, that she still does, even if she can’t give you the Fox anymore? Your fault, that she… that she messed up and put you and everyone else in danger? No, Alya. You were wonderful. And if she ever says or implies otherwise, I’ll punch her lights out.”

Alya had started crying, but that last comment dragged a rather wet chuckle out of her. “You really would, wouldn’t you? Please don’t. I’m not mad at her.”

Marinette choked on a sob. “You’re not?”

“Girl, of course not. There’s nothing Ladybug could do that wouldn’t have me still wanting her to pin me to a wall and kiss me senseless.”

This time, Marinette choked for a completely different reason. “What?”

Alya looked at her, puzzled, tears stopping abruptly. “Marinette. I’m been talking about my crush on Ladybug literally since the day we met. Are you telling me that you missed this?”

“Er…”

“Oh my god. Marinette, Nino and I have talked about how he wants to date Chat and I want to date Ladybug in front of you. I’ve called myself a bi disaster and called Ladybug the most perfect girl to ever exist in the same sentence. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I…”

Alya put her head in her hands. Around them, she mumbled, “You and Mr. ‘Just A Friend’ really are made for each other, aren’t you.”

Suddenly, Marinette found she could speak again. “I don’t know about that…”

That got a reaction out of Alya, and her head snapped back up. “What?”

“Nothing,” Marinette deflected.

“No, hold up, it sounded like-”

“Later, Alya. Please?” She needed more time to figure out what she was going to say. How was she even going to begin to explain any of this? She knew now that Alya (and Nino, who she felt guilty for not immediately thinking of minutes earlier) would be okay with the basic concept, but it was still so much. There was no rush. Not for this.

“Fine,” Alya said with a huff. “But let your wingwoman know if she needs to switch targets, okay?”

Marinette was, for a moment, overwhelmingly tempted to point Alya at the mirror in her room. But she quelled the urge and simply nodded before leaning on her friend’s shoulder. She closed her eyes.

She didn’t open them when Alya spoke some minutes later. “So how did you know I was Rena? I thought the identity magic was pretty strong.”

Yet again, Tikki nudged her. I know, I know, Marinette groaned internally. Even now, she couldn’t just up and reveal herself. But it wouldn’t hurt Alya to hear what she was going to say. “I guess not strong enough, if you know someone as well as I know you.”

She felt Alya nod. “Makes sense.”

“…Why did you think it was your fault? Putting me and the others in danger, I mean.”

“Well, Ladybug chose them because of me, didn’t she? I said as much. She started with the civilian who was most dedicated to her, and started working through her friend group from there. Never had the heart to tell her that it probably wasn’t the best tactical decision. Maybe I should have. What?”

Marinette had opened her eyes and lifted her head in one sudden movement, and was now staring at Alya. “You… know who the others are? Besides Nino, I mean.” Then she blinked and slapped a hand over her mouth. She thought she heard Tikki squeak in alarm.

Thankfully, Alya just glanced at her nonchalantly. “Thought you’d figured him out too. And don’t worry, I won’t tell Ladybug about you spilling. Not that it matters anymore.” She sighed. “I figured out Carapace instantly. And uh, I don’t know if you know, so I don’t want to get too specific, but. I also got Pegasus and Roi Singe. Not Ryuuko or Viperion though. Haven’t seen enough of them, I guess. Anyway, I think it’s partially a Fox thing, if I trust what Trixx said, and partially because… well, again, don’t want to get too specific. It just clicked.”

There would be words with Trixx later. From both her and Tikki. But now, Marinette just felt bad that she couldn’t tell Alya that no, it wasn’t because she was the Ladyblogger that she’d been chosen. It was because she was Alya. She settled for, “You were amazing, as Rena. I felt a lot safer when you were out there.”

“Aww.” Alya pulled her into a hug. “Thanks, girl. I really wish… I wish we could have been heroes together. Even just once. I wanted to share it with everyone special to me, and I thought I’d get the chance. Paris from the rooftops at night… it’s really something.”

“Alya, I have a balcony.”

“You know what I mean.”

  That night, as she drifted off next to an already slumbering Alya, Marinette made herself a promise. No matter how long it took, no matter the obstacles between then and now, no matter what changed between them, Ladybug would run the rooftops with Rena Rouge again. More importantly, Marinette would run the rooftops with Alya.

It couldn’t be soon. That fact hurt, but Marinette accepted it and let it go. Papillon had to be dealt with first. This dream was years out. Maybe even decades, if they were unlucky. But it would happen.

Marinette slept, dreamless but at peace, with Alya at her side.

[hypnotica-ships]

3x3

So, thanks to some A+++ enabling from the discord server, I've decided to post my BNHA self insert fanfic. I haven't really talked about my insert, but I plan to sometime in the future, but for now I"ll leave ya'll in the dark.

This whole thing was made just to make me and my friends feel good and give us some much needed self indulgence.

Word Count- 1,550

Hypnotica- My S/I

Grafight- @fictional-characters-are-hot's S/I

Slasher- @alwayslovestruck's S/I

It's been 3 hours.

4 hours since the hero team Discorded was asked to help out with a capturing some drug smugglers.

3 1/2 hours since they found the drug den.

3 hours since Hypnotica sent in Grafight and Slasher to covertly search the place.

3 hours since he's heard a response.

It was a loud, shrill scream that made his blood go cold. Expecting the worst, he decided to find some loiters and use his quirk to get some backup.

After being only able to scour up 2 shadows for his mask alts to posses, he realized the longer he spends time looking for people, the more harm could come to his friends...*family*. Dolly, taking the form of a Harpy, and Dylan taking a shape of a Lion man, will have to do for backup. Hoping that it won't be needed, he finds an open window and heads into the den.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Look! They're opening the crates. That must be how they ship the quirk enhancing drugs."

"Slasher. I can't see shit, it's too dark in here and I don't have dope cat eyes like yo-....wait a sec..."

The younger of the heroes takes out a sketch book and quickly draws our some night vision binoculars and they suddenly 'pop' out into a physical object. After giving a thumbs up, in order to stay quite, Grafight uses the goggles.

"Oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiit....that's a lot of powder. How the hell do they sell it all?"

Slasher just shrugs it off and continues watching the group of men, tail swaying as they do.

All of a sudden, all of the men stop moving. A few moments later they all turn to the gurder that the hero duo were perched on.

"Hey! Lookey here fellas, some new 'test subjects' to try the new mix on."

"Oh as if you'd even come close to touching us! You won't even get a chance to lay a finger on us. Right Grafight?"

"Right! Good luck fuckers!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Slasher! Grafight! What's going o-...."

"We won!'

Hypnotica was greeted by the sight of Slasher triumphantly standing with one foot on top of a human mound of passed out thugs while Grafight was looking over the crate of drugs, kicking one of the thugs that started move on the ground.

"Wha- Then who the hell screamed?!"

Grafight, grabbing the thug she kicked by his collar and threatening to punch him again.

"This guy did. I think he's like...the kingpin or something. Screams like a little bitch though."

"We managed to take these guys out super easily, like it was nothing! Can't believe they were talkin' smack like they could beat us..."

Still a bit shaken up from his worry, Hypnotica headed over to check out the crate. Noticing a strange metal box buried slightly underneath some of the drugs, he pulls it out and begins to question the kingpin about it.

"This your tracker? Is this the thing that you use to keep an eye on your 'supplies'?"

"You better answer. Grafight is pretty liberal with bodily harm."

Slasher says as she walks over to look at the box better, poking it with one of her claws.

"...it....it...he.....hehaha..."

"Punching time?" Grafight asks looking up at Hypnotica.

"Not yet. He needs to be conscious to answer our questions."

"Talk then, asshat."

"...doesn't matter....we....we were gunna..."

"Gunna what, idiot?!"

"d....die...die anways..."

"...Punch him Grafight."

Hypnotica grumbles while Dolly pried open the box with her talons.

"Gladly!"

"...I don't think he meant, like, *80 times Grafight...*"

Slasher now worriedly watches as the kingpin get's absolutely destroyed by fists.

"..."

Hypnotica seems frozen as he looks down at the box, unmoving, and holding his breath. Cocking her head, Slasher notices that somethings wrong with him.

"Hey....you alright big bro?"

"..."

Finally stopping her onslaught on the kingpin, Grafight looks over to Hypnotica.

"Cat got your tongue or something?"

Still not saying a word, Hypnotica turns the box so the others can see. In the box is a small glowing green tube with wires attached to it, there's also a countdown screen slightly below it. It's only got 3 seconds left on it.

As her tail drops, so does her heart, with only a few second to accept her fate Slasher meekly gasps as she starts to speak.

'Oh..'

'Shit'

Grafight finishes Slasher's thought, right before everything goes white.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sirens are blaring as the green mist clears from the rubble of what's left of the warehouse. Various bodies are strewn all about, policemen and EMTs were able to arrive on the scene fairly quickly. Not that it mattered, the damage was done. From the looks of everything, there was no survivors, all thugs and kingpin were either crushed by the rubble or suffered from some strange type of asphyxiation. Death seemed to encompass the area, until one of the EMTs discovered a lion like shadowy figure seemingly protecting a group of still breathing bodies. The figure soon dissipated leaving a strange mask in it's place.

The bodies were still alive, but barely, and they needed medical attention and fast.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"-Sources say that the 'hero' team were incapable of apprehending the group and had to resort to extreme measures to stop the-"

"Horseshit! Why would we set off a bomb? We had it covered already, it wouldn't kill them to get their facts straight..."

"Calm down Gummybear, the doc said you shouldn't strain yourself..."

It's been 4 days since Grafight was released from the hospital, suffering from 2 broken arms, rendering her unable to use her quirk...among other things. Fatgum, her partner, had insisted to stay by her side until things healed, neglecting his own hero duties in the process.

"The doc can shove it as far I care! These newscasters have no right to spew out garbage lies like that! It's gunna hurt our rep.... Sure we might not be the nicest, safest, smartest heroes in the game, but we aren't villainous either!"

"...You...you do have a point, but don't worry about it, I"m sure one of the others will give them a piece of their mind and sort things out. Right now you and I have dinner to eat!"

Grumbling as she rose from the couch, Grafight followed her partner to the kitchen, sitting down at the small round dinning table that the family usually shared. This dinner was different though. The table had a nice white satin cloth draped over it, with 2 light candles on top. It seemed that this time these two will be dinning alone.

"Take a seat baby, I'll go grab our meal."

"It better be something good, the meals at the hospital were utter shit..."

She lets her sentence trail on as a covered plate is placed ever so gently in front of her.

"Oh? Did you plan on surprising me? ....Babe, my arms, I can't open it."

"Yeah, my bad, here ya go my sweet Gummy."

Fatgum slowly removes the cover for maximum surprise effect. Once it's off, Grafight can't help but smiley widely as she notices one of her favorite meals, but with a culinary twist. Hotdogs sliced up into star shapes, surrounded by a circle of mashed potatoes, topped with melted cheese, a dash or salt, and a glob of ketchup in the middle of it all.

"So? Ya like?"

"..."

Grafight's eye's start to tear up, but her smile still stays plastered on her face. Fatgum notices right away and goes to quickly grab some tissues.

"Oh Gummy, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to upset you! I just...I just thought I could do something special for ya...I...I-"

"Oh baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaabe! I love it! Omg, I love it so much, you're the best, you know that right?"

"I...yeah....no. Wait. YOU'RE the best, you're so strong and special to me, I...I"m just so happy that I didn't lose you...you mean the universe to me."

"Stop...I'm already crying, let's just...let's just enjoy this meal together, okay?"

"Okay. I"m starving anyways..."

Fatgum takes his place across from Grafight, and starts to devour his meal.

"Uh....Ahem...."

"Oh! Yeah, my bad, let me help ya."

The two enjoy their meal together, never breaking their love filled eye contact.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Slow down Mochi, you shouldn't be over-exerting yourself."

"But Kano, I want to dance! I really like this song...cough cough...it's a total....total banger, and I deserve to have some.....fun after what happened. Everyone else has been so....gloomy since then....I just....want to bring some life.....back into the house is all...."

"I know, I know...but, you won't be able to do much joy-spreading if you can barely walk to the mailbox without getting winded halfway there."

"Hmph, stupid bomb chemicals getting.....getting into my lungs...fucking up my whole system...did they ever figure out what...what was in that tube...anyways?"

"They still haven't called us back about the results yet, but they said the inhaler they gave you was working well enough for us not to worry. So we won't, right Mochi?"

"...Yeah...I guess...I just hate...feeling weak like this...I wanna cry but.... I don't want the others to...to see....they've been through enough....I don't wan them to worry about me...me too..."

Kano takes a moment to think, after a moment he takes Slasher's paw and leads her into the living room.

"Sweety...what are you doing?"

After he gets Slasher to relax on the couch, he walks over the Hypnotica's advance sound system and grabs a homemade looking CD. Putting it in he looks to Slasher.

"The good doctor said YOU shouldn't exert yourself, but....he never said anything about me."

As soon as the music starts, Kano begins to dance in a way that's all to familiar to Slasher. It's a dance they've grown to call the 'Humpty Dance', and no one else in the house can quite get it right like these two.

"Oh Kano! This....this makes me so....happy! Keep...keep going! Maybe...maybe you could...put in some...Slipknot next? Pwetty Pwease?"

"Anything for you my Mochi."

Slasher enjoys the show Kano puts on for almost 2 hours, by the time he gets done, Kano is just about as winded as Slasher has been recently. The two then cuddle on the couch, just taking in each other's slow and labored breathes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You will most certainly not."

Sir Nighteye slams his hand down on the counter to emphasize his point, making Hypntoica jump a little.

"And why the fuck not? The need to get their facts straight. I will not stand for all of this fucking slander."

Sir sighs and pushes his glasses up, trying to calm himself down.

"I understand that, but 'kidnapping the newsroom executive' is not the most ideal way to go about it. You can barely walk, even with the crutches!"

Motioning to Hypnotica's broken left leg, and the sprain in his other. Hypnotica just huffs and looks off to the side, still with an angered expression plastered on his face.

"So. Fucking. What? Okay, maybe kidnapping is a bit extreme, but..."

Sir's own angry expression starts to soften as he notices the tears that begin to fall from his partner's face. Wondering how long he's been holding it in.

"...I can't let my family take the blame for a stupid mistake that I made!"

Hypnotica's body begins to shudder as more tears fall, Sir walks over to him and embraces him in a way to try to calm him down.

"It's not your fault...all of you did what you could to try and handle the situation."

"That doesn't excuse all of the death and destruction that happened, and not to mention all the hurt my family is going through because of it!"

"No. It doesn't. But how is any of that your doing, hmm?"

"...I...I..."

"Shh, just stay, and relax. I'll make up a fully detailed report and send out a few copies to some of the stations. They'll most likely use those facts since my name does carry some weight..."

While still holding him with his right hand, Sir uses his left to tilt Hypnotica's chin up to meet his eyes. After a few seconds go by, he rests his head on his partner's.

"...Trust me dear. Everything will turn out just fine."

"Promise?"

"I promise. I saw it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"A trusted source, who has decided to stay anonymous, has confirmed that the deaths in the Discorded Warehouse accident were not the before mentioned teams fault, but the fault of-"

"Thank you! Finally, a news channel that checks their facts. Even though I'm fine with a few deaths under my belt, but whatever I guess."

"Oh! Look Gummy! That's me! Saving all of those orphans was quite the task, I'll have to tell you all about it later."

"Kano my love! Let me help you with those dishes, there is far to many for one man to clean."

"Thank you Mochi! I kinda went all out with the meal this time, it was a celebration for everyone recovering so quickly....well, mostly everyone..."

"I call bullshit. Of course right after I get healed I trip down the stairs and end up right back to square one."

"Guess that means I'll have play nurse bit longer my dear."

~~*Cue Laugh Track*~~

[tournesolia]

Chaos Lineage Azusa Chapter 8 Translation

The next day...

Azusa-kun asked Carla-san

to become my guard again.

I was so happy and reassured to

always be by his side.

However, the vigilance was intensified as

we had been attacked by Yuma-kun and

Kino-san during our scouting the other day.

According to what Azusa-kun said,

the Scarlets and the Oranges wouldn’t

make an attempt for a while, but...

At Carla-san's command,

Kou-kun, Laito-kun and Subaru-kun

were all watching over the area

around the mansion--

Place : Violet mansion – Living room and dining room

Yui : Alright, here's your tea

Azusa : Thank you. Hmm... What a nice scent...

Yui : I tried to make herbal tea. It apparently has a relaxing effect

Azusa : I see... *drink... Delicious... Eve is good at making tea

Yui : Hehe, thank you

(I'm glad he can relax even a little in such a depressing situation)

Kou-kun, Laito-kun and Subaru-kun went out to keep watch, right ? What about Carla-san ?

Azusa : It seems he’s doing researches in his room. So... I think it's okay for us to talk here

Yui : (… ! Does that mean we'll have a strategy meeting ?)

(We regained our memories and joined our forces to get out from here...)

Azusa : First of all... Let's sort out our current situation

No one besides us regained their memories... Everyone is fighting for you in order to become the supreme ruler

This battle is repeating over and over again... This is actually the eighth time

I don't know why it's repeating and how...

Yui : Hmm... The first thing we don't know is the fact that the same thing is repeating over and over again

We should find out why such a strange thing is happening...

Azusa : It's the biggest mystery...

Yui : Indeed...

Azusa : I've been observing the time repeating itself, but... I couldn't find something in common

If I may venture an opinion, this battle won't progress and a restart will occur in a few days...

Yui : Hmm... You talk as if the battle will come out

(If we get stuck, we'll have to try again from the beginning... It's as if we're playing a game. It's not something we should take lightly)

??? : What ? There's no one here ?

Yui : Huh ? Someone came back ?

Azusa : It's still too early for them to come back...

Ah... !

Yui : What's the matter ?

Azusa : Until now, Ayato-san and Kanato-san have invaded the mansion...

Yui : These two did !?

Azusa : They're earlier than usual, though...

It's the first time Eve recovers her memories...

Maybe things have shifted little by little

Yui : What should we do ? I don't want a fight against these two--

Choice 1 : Let's tell Carla-san (white roses)

Yui : Let's go tell Carla-san, quick !

If things go well, we may escape from Ayato-kun and Kanato-kun !

Azusa : Hmm... I would like to do it if we can, but... we won't make it in time

Yui : (… ! He's right... The voices are getting closer...!)

Choice 2 : Let's ambush them (black roses)

Yui : Now that it comes to this, let's ambush them... ?

Azusa : No... If we do that, it will become a fight...

Yui : I-I see

(That means we've got no choice but to get ready...)

-- End of choices

*footsteps approaching

Ayato : Oh, so here's the living room... Huh ?

Azusa and Eve !? Why are you guys here !?

Yui : Ayato-kun...

Ayato : Hey, Kanato ! You told me there would be no one here !

Kanato : I didn't say that. I said that it would be nice if no one's here

Ayato : Aah ? What was that !? You think I'm gonna buy that !?

Kanato : Why are you putting the blame on me ? And I haven't done anything wrong... This is too much !

Yui : (Ayato-kun and Kanato-kun look the same as usual, even if their memories are altered...)

Azusa (whispers) : Eve... If the progression is as I know it, everyone will come back soon. So we have to endure it until then...

Yui : O-Okay...

(Was that so ? I shouldn't lower my guard. These two are after me)

(When we got attacked by Yuma-kun and Kino-san last time, it was a life-threatening battle)

(Even if I know Ayato-kun and Kanato-kun, I can't let my guard down...)

Azusa : … It's okay. I'll definitely protect you...

Yui : Okay... I trust you

Kanato : Seriously, you're an idiot

Ayato : Oh shut up, you're a pain in the ass !

It doesn't matter who's here. If I steal Eve, the Great Me will be the supreme ruler ! That's convenient to me !

Azusa : I can't hand Eve over...

Ayato : Heeeh, you're motivated, huh ? Just so you know, I won't hold back !

*Ayato charges at Azusa

Azusa : …

Yui : (Eh... ? Azusa-kun ? Why doesn't he draw his sword... ? Don't tell me--)

*Ayato hits Azusa

Azusa : Guh... !

Yui : Azusa-kun !!

(Ayato-kun cut him...!?)

Azusa : Uh... Guh...

*Azusa falls

Yui : Ah... There’s blood... Azusa-kun... Azusa-kun, Azusa-kun !!

Ayato : What's with that guy ? You would normally avoid the hit rather than take it

Kanato : What an idiot

Azusa : Guh...

Yui : Azusa-kun, don't move ! You're bleeding... !

Azusa : I'm... okay...

Ayato-san... You can... cut me... as much as... you like...

Ayato : A-Aaaah ? What the hell are you thinking... !?

Azusa : I'm used... to this... so... cut me ?

Ayato : Eww ! Don't cling to my leg ! What's wrong with that guy !?

Kanato : I'm tired of that person. Ayato, please do something

Ayato : Aaah !? Even if you tell me that...

Yui : (W-What should I do ? At this rate, Azusa-kun will...)

Carla : When I thought it was noisy, the mices slipped into the mansion...

Yui : Carla-san !

Ayato : Damn it, you were here as well ?

Carla : It seems you show extremely bad manners. Prepare yourselves

Ayato : Ha ! You think you can beat us all alone ? You're gonna regret it !

Yui : (Even with Carla-san as their opponent, he doesn't flinch...!)

(At this rate, they will end up fighting...!)

Laito (from outside) : It's nice to look around but there was nothing, how boring

Yui : (… ! That voice is...!)

Subaru (from outside) : Don't attract attention 'cause it's “boring”

Yui : (Laito-kun and Subaru-kun are back !)

Guys, please, come back quick ! Ayato-ku... The Oranges are invading !

Ayato : Tch, if those guys are back, we're at a disadvantage... Kanato ! Let's break through the window and run !

Kanato : I know, you didn't have to tell me. Let's go, quick

*Ayato and Kanato run away

Yui : (They ran away...)

Carla : Just like I thought, they started moving and targeting this mansion

Yui : Azusa-kun, Azusa-kun... !!

Azusa : Eve... You're safe, I'm glad... Besides... Ayato-san and... Kanato-san as well...

Yui : (He worries about these two even though they injured him...)

(… No, there's more important now...)

Carla-san, leave Azusa-kun's care to me, please

Carla : … Alright

Yui : Thank you very much !

Azusa-kun, can you stand ? Use my shoulder...

Azusa : Yeah... Thank you...

After this, Carla-san instructed Laito-kun

and Subaru-kun, who rushed into tne

mansion, to chase after Ayato-kun and

Kanato-kun who escaped.

Meanwhile, I was treating Azusa-kun's

wound with Kou-kun's help.

Place : Violet mansion – Azusa's room

Yui : (Now that we finished disinfecting the wound, let's bandage it next...)

(He's really terribly injured. His flank is roughly cut...)

Azusa : You're staring so hard at it... Are you interested ?

Yui : No... I thought that it must look painful

Azusa : Yeah, it hurts... But our wounds heal faster than the humans', so I'm fine

Yui : (There's no way he can be that calm, and yet...)

Azusa : Huh ? Where's Kou... ?

Yui : He's washing your clothes that got dirty with blood, and I also asked him to look around the mansion just in case

Azusa : I see... Ah... !

Yui : S-Sorry ! Did it hurt ?

Azusa : No, I'm fine. Ayato-san's sword line is straight. The cut is very beautiful

So it will heal quick, I think

Yui : … Hey, why did you let Ayato-kun hit you ?

If you avoided the hit and fighted back, you wouldn't get injured

Azusa : … After repeating it over again, I know this is the best option

Yui : The best option... ? Getting such an injury ?

Azusa : Whenever Ayato-san and Kanato-san attacked the mansion, someone was seriously injured...

But... when I got injured, it ended up with this much

Yui : (No way...)

Azusa : It's the same thing... this time as well... That's good...

Yui : That's... not good... !

Azusa : Eh... ?

Yui : I... don't want you to get hurt...

Please, don't neglect your own self... !

Azusa : Ah... D-Don't cry...

Yui : Eh... ?

(Ah... I'm... crying before I notice it...)

Azusa : I'm fine... So, don't cry...

Yui : (Even though he's the most injured, he always and only worries about others...)

(Azusa-kun saw such a scene and got hurt many times, and he endured it alone...)

(But... I just don't want him to get hurt)

You may have always been alone until now, but...

This time, I'm here. I won't let you get hurt anymore

Azusa : Eve...

… You're strong

Yui : It's because I'm with you that I can be strong

Azusa : I see...

Little by little, we're moving away from the scenario that I know... But the biggest difference is that you're here...

*Azusa hugs Yui

Azusa : Just because you're here... I feel so relieved...

Yui : Azusa-kun...

(Azusa-kun kept carrying a lot of things in his arms alone until now...)

*Yui hugs back

Yui : (This time... We'll carry them together...)

Azusa : Eve, thank yo-- Guh...

Yui : A-Are you okay !?

Azusa : Yes, I'm fine

Yui : You don't appear to be fine. You look like you're suffering...

(I know. At least...)

Hey... Suck my blood

Azusa : Eh ? Why... ?

Yui : If you drink blood, it will nourish you and your injury should heal a little better. So I want you to suck my blood

I don't want to just let you bleed

Azusa : … I see. Hmm, in that case, let's make a wound together... ?

Yui : Yes...

(It's a little embarrassing but it would be better for Azusa-kun to not move...)

Will it be easy for you to suck blood a little, like this... ?

Azusa : … Hehe

Yui : W-Why are you laughting ?

(I disarranged my clothes, I wonder if it was vulgar after all...)

Azusa : You try as hard as you can... I'm happy...

And your face suddenly turns red... You're very cute... *sucks blood

Yui : (Hm... Somehow, it looks like he's teasing me more than usual...)

(It tickles just a little, but he's gentle...)

Azusa : … Haa... You look sleepy... Are you feeling good ?

Yui : Yes...

Azusa : Me too... I feel good when I drink your blood... *sucks blood

Yui : … Aaah... Hm... !

Azusa : … Hey, Yui-san. We'll definitely go back home with everyone...

Yui : Yes... Let's go back together... and recover Ruki-kun and the others' memories...

Let's all live together again--

(We'll definitely go home with everyone--)

Chapter 8 : End

[chilly-territory]

The Morpheus Classroom, chapter 1 (part 2 out of ?)

This is currently on hold because I’ve found a more interesting thing to translate, so regard this as something of a preview for now.

The Morpheus Classroom by Mikami En

Chapter 1 (part 1/?) (volume 1, pages 19-68) Yomiji (The Road to Hell)

1

Kishimori Naoto always forgot what happened in that world.

It was a white world, as if drowning in thick fog.

He was in the middle of a long straight road.

As he walked briskly, eyes cast downward, he felt someone's shadow hanging heavily on his back.

Rows of teeth clacked together noisily. Naoto's legs were heavy, like they were sinking into mud, so it wasn't possible to move any faster. He could feel the tingling from a gaze on the scruff of his neck. Desperately, he was trying to escape from someone. Someone who'd catch up to him from behind momentarily.

'...Who might it be?' he wondered, face cloudy with dread. And what was this place?

Clack, clack, clack.

***

Countless teeth that definitely weren't his clanged together in unison, and countless arms grabbed him. That 'someone' wasn't just one being.

Getting knocked down by something heavy, he tumbled to the ground to sprawl on his his back. The moment he did, something pointed, both big and small in size, pierced into him on the whole length of his body. He shivered at the foreign chilly sensation.

"This is a dream," he tried to persuade himself, tightly shutting his eyes. With how this lacked any context or coherence but had plenty of vagueness to spare, it had to be a dream.

Strength was gradually surging into the jaws locked around him. His skin broke, and he writhed in agonizing pain. Sticky blood soaked his entire body.

"...It's just a dream."

There was no way it could be happening in reality. Except, the pain just kept on growing more and more unbearable. Was it even possible to feel pain so acutely in a dream?

"It's a dream, a dream, a dream, a dream, only a dream..."

A foul-smelling breath hit the lips that chanted the same word over and over. Someone was staring down at him from just above his head.

"...Remember," his captor whispered in a hoarse voice.

But Naoto had no presence of mind left to comprehend what was being demanded of him. Fresh blood welled up from deep within his throat. Swallowed by the vortex of intense pain, his five senses were fading rapidly.

***

Before he knew it, Kishimoto Naoto bolted upright in his bed, shoulders heaving with his heavy breathing. By reflex, the first thing he did was check his body for injuries. He found that he was completely drenched in sweat, but otherwise uninjured. He breathed an uncontrolled sigh of relief.

The moment he awoke, the memories of his dream started to fade away, as if slipping between his fingers. Where he was and what was done to him was all becoming vague suddenly.

What was left to him in the end was only a faint sensation of being chased and then attacked. And also the feeling of vivid dread that seemed to have engraved itself into his entire body.

Outside his closed curtains, it started to get light. When he listened carefully, he heard footsteps in the kitchen. His younger sister Mizuho must have been preparing breakfast.

With much effort, Naoto dragged his body that felt positively like lead out of the bed. There was a throbbing behind his eyelids - a clear indication of sleep deprivation. The thing was, whenever he tried to sleep, he saw a nightmare and ended up jerked awake almost instantly.

Sometimes, he went entire nights sleepless when a nightmare would leave him too distressed to fall asleep, like tonight. As far as he could tell, the dream he kept seeing was always the same.

Naoto drew the curtains open in one motion. Dazzling light filled the room. It was a refreshing beginning of a brand new day - to those who could get sleep at night, that is.

"...So tired."

No energy to draw on was forthcoming. He wished he could try and get some more sleep, but it was already time to go to school. Besides, even if he did fall asleep, who was to say he wouldn't just see that dream again?

He dressed in his school uniform and left the room. The room next to his was his father's, Takaomi, and that door remained closed. Naoto passed the short hallway and headed to the kitchen.

In front of the Japanese-style living room, he abruptly halted. Mizuho in her navy blue uniform sat on her knees in front of the family altar with the palms of her hands pressed together. Her hair braided in two lay on her shoulders, and her black-rimmed glasses didn't part an inch away from the middle school dress code regulations.

"Yo," Naoto called out. "...Good morning, brother," a feeble-sounding voice called back after a pause. "We're having some nice weather again today, yeah?" "..." Mizuho kept silent. His baby sister was always taciturn, but after Takaomi's death she barely spoke at all.

Naoto entered the living room, sat down next to Mizuho and put his hands together, too. The two no longer had parents. Their mother passed away about the time Naoto had started grade school. It was then that the family had bought this altar, but a year ago the mortuary tablet for his father, Takaomi, was also added to it.

Their father got in an incident and, after undergoing a surgery in the hospital, suddenly died. The police looked into it, but they'd found nothing to indicate it was due to a medical error by the hospital. His condition just took a sudden turn for the worse that was impossible to predict, apparently.

Naoto wasn't there to witness his father's death. But even now, he still couldn't forget the way Mizuho looked after she had. "I'm sorry," she kept apologizing to Naoto on and on and on. Even after he'd said it was okay, she just kept saying nothing but "I'm so sorry". And what she kept repeating after simply made no sense.

Maybe she blamed herself for leaving their father's bedside to make a call. The doctor told them that nothing would have changed even she'd been in the hospital room at the time, but it was unclear if Naoto's little sister agreed with that.

After their father's death, they continued to live in this apartment, just the two of them. The siblings didn't have close relatives - a fact that Naoto had realized for the first time during the funeral. After some disputes, a young distant relative of theirs came forward and became the siblings' legal guardian on paper, which was why the guardianship issue was settled without them having to leave this familiar neighborhood.

Luckily, there was no need for them to depend on anyone for money. The bank account in their father's name held a surprisingly large amount of savings. Although it wasn't quite enough to hold the two of them for the rest of their lives, the sum was still more than adequate for them to live together until coming of age. Apparently, their father had some sort of side job, as he was frequently out on weekends. Maybe that was the source of his savings.

"...Breakfast is ready."

Having said that, Mizuho got up. Naoto didn't have much appetite, but he still followed his little sister into the kitchen. Just as she said, breakfast consisting of toasts, plan omelet and salad was already on the table.

The siblings sat down at the table opposite of one another and started eating.

"Yummy," Naoto praised. Probably due to the lack of sleep, he couldn't really tell the flavor, but he had trust in Mizuho's cooking ability. "You should've woken me up to help you with it though. I always tell you this, you know." "Brother, you... would't really be of much help," Mizuho muttered, stabbing her omelet with a fork.

Her matter-of-fact reply backfired. Now Naoto was staring at his sister's face intently. But it looked like her statement wasn't meant as a complaint - she was simply being honest.

"I-Is that a fact...?"

Naoto had to admit the truth of her words. Housework wasn't his forte - actually, nothing worth mentioning was. He'd never really been good with his hands, neither was he particualrly smart or athletic. The reason why their life on their own even worked so far was because this little sister of his 3 years his junior handled everything in a quick and competent way.

"But, still, I find it wrong to leave everything about the house to you, you know?" "...It's fine." "No, don't give me that. What I want you to tell me is if there's anything at all I can help with? Something you'd want me to do?" "Then shopping, maybe..." "I'm already in charge of that."

Since Mizuho always gave him a detailed list of what to buy, technically this task would usually turn into something uncomfortably similar to a kindergartner's first errand.

"What I'm talking about is something besides that."

Mizuho's fork stopped moving, and she turned her eyes upward and thought for a moment. "There's nothing... I think."

Naoto's shoulders surreptitiously dropped in disappointment when he heard that. The asparagus from his salad that he was carrying to his mouth moved especially slowly. It looked like his breakfast would take longer than usual today. Mizuho, on the other hand, almost finished her meal.

"Brother." "Hm?" "Last night... you couldn't sleep again?"

For a second, Naoto didn't know what to say. Earlier, when he took a look in the mirror, he didn't find anything particularly unusual about his appearance, and he made sure not yawn in front of his sister. But apparently, fooling the eyes of someone you'd lived with for a long time was impossible.

"...Sort of."

Mizuho's expression clouded momentarily, and Naoto instantly regretted he'd said that.

"Are you in any shape to go to school today?" "I am." "Really...?" "I'm fine, I'm telling you," Naoto asserted as cheerfully as he could. "It's just a little sleep deprivation. Common as common gets, never killed no one."

He never told Mizuho that the reason for his sleepless nights was nightmares. He'd pass it off as simple lack of sleep, he decided, because he really didn't want to give Mizuho even more causes for worries.

"You should try... going to counseling, I think." "...It's no use."

Those nightmares had started torturing him about 3 months ago. He'd already tried going to hospital and even attending counseling, to no effect whatsoever.

The couselor persistently bombarded him with questions about his parents and his thoughts on them. For some reason, that good sir became convinced that Naoto had been subjected to something at the hands of his father that had turned into a psychological trauma, and said medical specialist started to draw a treatment plan to that end. Apparently, saying that his father was taciturn and aloof was not a good idea. Takaomi wasn't exactly the type to start a heart-to-heart talk with his kids, but treating each instance of something that trivial as a cause for a trauma was just too much. Naoto got sick of it and stopped attending.

"But that just means... only counseling didn't work, right?" "Well... maybe..." "What about talking to someone who... isn't a counselor?" "...I'll think about it." 'But I'm not likely to go through with it,' he added in his heart of hearts. "Either way, I'm still going to school today."

Mizuho kept eyeing his face with intensity and unease.

"...It's better to go to school when you can't sleep, you see." "Eh?" Head tilting to one side in puzzlement, Mizuho made a questioning noise.

To dodge having to elaborate, Naoto sent the remains of his breakfast into his mouth all at once.

"In any case, don't worry too much about me. I'm fine." As he was saying that, Naoto rose from the table.

2

To get to the Iimi town that the Kishimori siblings lived in, one would need to board a train at the central terminal station and ride it for about half an hour. Actually, to be precise, one would also have to transfer trains at a station just before the town and board an ordinary train, so the trip would probably take a little longer than that. For what it was worth, the town's residential address was considered to be within the borders of the Tokyo metropolis, but the eyes of a first timer at the Iimi station would surely open wide in surprise. Since this town wasn't too far from the heart of the metropolis, one couldn't help but wonder how such a desolate neighborhood could exist so close to it.

For one, there were very few tall buildings around the station. The tallest construct was an old 5-storey department store, and the chimney of a public bathhouse was also plainly visible from the station's platform. The shopping district was reasonably large, but, save for the main shopping arcade, it was mostly made up of small privately-run stores tackled between the complicated net of alleyways. It was all too likely that the townscape here didn't change at all since as far back as the Shouwa era.

Further away from the station, one would find a rather typical residential district, except here and there it was peppered with wooded areas and cultivated fields.

There was a number of reasons why this town had been spared large-scale development until now. First, no big transfer stations were to be found near the Iimi town, and it was oddly removed from big roads, too, so compared to the peripheral areas, the main dooming drawback had to be the inconvenience of access and transportation. It also lacked amusement facilities and big shopping centers. The town was like a blank spot on the map of the great metropolis.

That said, it was quite loved by those who lived there. You could buy most of the daily living necessities in front of the station, and it was such a quiet neighborhood that it was hard to believe it was part of Tokyo. Due to the town being situated right on the border between the mountainous region and plains, the landscape was quite hilly, but even having made allowance for that, it was still really easy to live in.

The apartment building Naoto and his sisters lived in was in a relatively new residential district close the station. In the past they lived in a stand-alone house near a mountain, but 10 years prior they'd moved here. Needless to say, it was when the Kishimori family still consisted of 4 people.

Naoto left through his apartment building's main entrance, and started walking slowly, headed for the bus stop. Usually he commuted to school by bicycle, but this time he was going to take a bus. Because of the lack of deep sleep, both his head and body felt positively leaden. It wouldn't be strange if he got in some kind of incident in a state like this.

When he raised his eyes skyward, the weather was perfectly clear and the sky completely cloudless. The Golden Week was over, and the sunshine gradually started getting warmer. Before long, it would be warm enough to make school children want to take off their blazers.

Creaking of a gate reached Naoto's ears and instinctively made him halt.

"Whoa?!"

All of a sudden, the front wheel of a bicycle appeared before him. If he hadn't stopped a moment earlier, he'd've crashed into it.

"Oh, careful there," said a girl's voice he knew. Naoto fixed his gaze on the owner of the voice.

There stood a girl in the uniform of the same high school as Naoto. She was a little taller than average, standing close to Naoto's eye level, and wore her long brownish hair straight. Her moist-looking eyes were adorned with long eyelashes. A smallish face and long slender limbs completed the image of your typical pretty girl.

She had a hold on the handlebar of a brightly orange crossroad bicycle. It seemed they almost bumped into each other as she came out of the house, pulling her bike along. Behind her was a gate with a nameplate attached that read 'Kuze', and beyond the gate there stood a small old house. The originally white mortar of the walls faded, and cracks ran across it here and there.

That house stood there unchanged in the least since the time Naoto and his family had moved into their current apartment. To see it when it was a new building one probably had to go back 50 years or so into the past. In this neighborhood, this house was the oldest.

"...A little more, and we would've crashed."

The girl's name was Kuze Ayano. Naoto and her knew each other for a long time and almost too sickeningly well. Their parents were friends since they were young, and even before the two's families started living close to one another, they sometimes visited each other.

Technically, they would be childhood friends living closeby, but Naoto couldn't help feeling resistant to define them as such. They weren't on nearly good enough terms to validate using such an endearing word.

"...Look, you," Naoto said with a sigh. "Don't you have anything to say to me after almost flattening me?" "Eh...? Oh yeah, right. Look where you're going, will ya! What would you do if you broke my bike?!" "I would be the broken one! Why the hell are you worried about a bike in this situation?!" "Well, aren't you being cranky first thing in the morning. If you're so worried about yourself, you could always just dodge before the collision. That's what the reflexes are for, you know?" Ayano asserted bluntly.

It was utterly unreasonable, but her frame with her chest thrown out overflowed with such uselessly wasted persuasiveness that Naoto couldn't say anything back. His conflict-averse disposition was partly to blame, but with Ayano he felt like he was especially outclassed. Rather than his reason, it was his instincts that alerted him that he should never try to oppose Ayano.

'Can't take much more of this.'

Naoto turned his back on the girl and started walking. He felt his dizziness getting progressively worse.

"What's with you? If there's something you want to say, come out and say it to my face!"

Naoto heard her click her tongue at the lack of a reply. Just as he thought how she'd stooped to tongue-clicking, of all things, there came another attack launched at her fleeing enemy.

"...Damn wuss."

The abusive tint of the two's relationship was clearly Ayano's fault, no matter how you sliced it. Since being little she was always strong-willed, wilful and never one to give a damn about antagonizing others, but with Naoto she was especially brutal. Ayano's moody verbal abuse and Naoto's half-hearted retorts comprised more than a half of the pair's exchanges.

Naoto also had a feeling that in the last few years the wickedness of Ayano's tongue had reached new heights. The only time she'd pulled her punches was when his father died. When it happened, even she acted subdued, Naoto mused.

When he rounded a corner of the road, the sign of the bus stop came into view. At the moment, there was no one waiting for a bus there. Naoto just finished taking the bag off his shoulder and putting it on the bench when Ayano's bicycle halted in front of him.

"Have you seen a weather forecast that promised rain today or something?" "...No, I haven't." "In that case, why aren't you going to school by bike?" "What does that matter anyway?" Naoto replied, pretending to be checking the bus schedule. He couldn't exactly come out and say that he thought it a little dangerous going by bike when he was this sleep deprived. "Hmm. So it's something you can't tell me." Ayano's voice dropped an octave.

Taking a ginger look at Ayano's expression, Naoto found her brows rising in displeasure. In Naoto's brain, an alarm went off. If that suspicion of hers was left unattended, no one knew what might happen as a result.

Just as he was about to cave, promptly deciding that if he had to say something anyway, it'd be better to just tell the truth, suddenly Ayano's lips stretched in a dazzling smile. It was such a flawless smile that for a moment, even Naoto couldn't help but stare admiringly.

"Ah, I know. When you woke up early in the morning today, you found your bike so messed up it was unrecognizable, right? And then, on the ground there was a message written in the blood of some mysterious animal, 'This is a warning', and when you looked closer---" "Don't spout your disturbing fantasies with a smile! Why the hell would I receive a creepy warning like that, anyway?!" "Oops, was I off the mark?" "Of course you were! Just because I'm taking bus today doesn't mean you can go and jump to totally outrageous conclusions like---" Suddenly, Naoto fell silent. Before he knew it, his heartbeat sped up. Apparently, his body was reacting to the image of bloodshed. He had a feeling he was subjected to something similar in that nightmare. 'Someone' had attacked him, and then his whole body...

"Seriously, what's wrong? You keep spacing out."

The sound of Ayano's voice jerked Naoto back to reality. The girl eyed him intently, still mounted in her bike's saddle.

"...It's nothing."

The memories of his bad dream that'd just started gaining clarity blurred back again. If he was honest, Naoto was a little relieved at that. He didn't really want to remember the details of that nightmare.

"Nothing, you say, but for 'nothing' you sure look awfully drowsy. You're suffering from the lack of sleep, yeah?"

Naoto's hand rubbed his face before he could check the motion. His features supposedly were such that they prevented his physical condition from easily showing on his face, but the people he had talked to since getting up this morning both had seen right through him.

"Does it show?" "It's written all over your mug. Along the lines 'I'm terribly sleepy! Somebody, punch me!'"

Naoto wanted to snap back that his wishes weren't that drastic, but couldn't find the energy to anymore. The conversation petered to a stop, and the two just kept staring at one another in silence. The uncomfortable silence stretched for a while until Ayano suddenly remembered to check the watch in her phone.

"Uh-oh. I've wasted way too much of my precious lifetime on talking to some wuss like you."

Her white knee rose as she stepped on the pedal with all her might. That caused her short skirt to ride up, and Naoto hurriedly looked away - really, it wouldn't kill her to be more cautious about these things.

"Well then, do take your time and see ya when that rocking and crowded bus from Hell delivers you to your destination."

With that snappy signoff line, the girl started riding her crossroad bike in the earnest. Suddenly, Naoto remembered that he had a question to ask her.

"Ayano!"

When he called out to her in a loud voice, she stepped on the brakes so hard she almost pitched forward and whirled around.

"Oh shut up, what is it now?" "You gonna show up for classes today?"

Ayano mostly came to school on time, but that didn't mean she attended all her classes properly. Her pet theory sounded as follows: 'So long as your attendance meets the baseline, you can do whatever you want'. As such, she could just vanish from the classroom whenever she wasn't in the mood to study. The reason why she hardly ever got warnings from teachers was because she always placed near the top of their year on tests - wholly unlike Naoto who only got average scores despite attending all of his classes.

"I haven't decided yet. And come to think of it, it's none of your business. You're not a teacher."

She sped off. Naoto didn't mean to reproach her, although her speedy exit left him no time to explain that. The real question he had for her was far more important than her attendance.

3

The bus Naoto boarded was full of students in the same uniform as his. It was headed to the high school situated some distance away from the center of the Iimi city.

Naoto stood near the rear door, gripping a handrail and vacantly gazing outside the window. Walls of gray concrete blocks and guardrails floated by and disappeared from view. The scenery sparkled dazzlingly, lacking the sense of perspective. To Naoto's eyes, it looked like a projection on the window instead of real landscape.

It was probably due to his sleep deprivation though.

The bus came to a sudden halt, jerking Naoto back to reality. Several students came in through the opened rear door. When Naoto tried to relocate a bit further into the back, someone unexpectedly tapped him on the shoulder.

"Good morning, Kishimori-kun."

The voice came from below and a little to the side. Naoto found a petite school girl there standing next to him, and he had no idea when she got there. She was only tall enough to reach his shoulder at best. Her pale pink cheeks loosed in a smile, she was looking up at him with big and round eyes reminiscent of a small animal.

"...Ah, it's you, Kurano."

The girl was Kurano Natsume, a classmate of his.

Naoto's face was starting to burn a little. Maybe he was overthinking it, but he seemed to have forgotten to say good morning to her in turn, his voice sounded bumbling and the reply itself was curt. Was at least greeting a person properly beyond his ability now? As he stood there in silence, diligently wallowing in self-blaming, the girl took it upon herself to speak up.

"It's unusual for you to take a bus, Kishimori-kun. You always commute by bicycle, right?" "...I just thought I'd be better off not riding it today," Naoto mumbled by way of a reply.

She looked down, casting a quick glance at his legs. The neatly cut black hair swayed once by his shoulder, and the scent of flowers the name of which he didn't know tickled his nose.

"Huh...? What's wrong?" "Ah, sorry. I just wondered if maybe you're injured somewhere." "It's not because of an injury... there's no deep reason." "Really? Good, then, You had me worried here."

The image of Ayano's whole face smile as she shouted "This is a warning!" suddenly crossed Naoto's mind. Although both girls noticed the same thing, the conclusions their imagination took them to make were completely different. Needless to say, it was due to the difference in the two's personalities: assuming Ayano was the watchdog of Hell with the veritable tongue of flames, then Natsume was a divine messenger sporting white wings.

Natsume was kind to anyone and, by her nature, just couldn't turn her back on someone troubled. In short, she was the class representative, a honor student and an all-rounder in sports. Her diminutive form scampering about was cute, and everyone in their class adored her. Especially boys who always sent passionate gazes her way.

Naoto wasn't an exception. The two were in the same class since their first year, and he was always conscious of her presence. Despite that, he still couldn't talk without reserve to her. Partly it was due to Naoto's own sheepishness, but there was a more important reason at play, too.

Even this nearly impeccable angel had but one mystery about her. And that was...

"Oh, it's Ayano." Natsume waved her hand suddenly, seemingly overjoyed.

Giving a start, Naoto followed the girl's line of sight and found Ayano's crossroad bike running parallel to their bus by the side. The rider wore a prominent pout.

'Geez, what kind of face is she riding a bike with?'

The razor sharp glint in Ayano's eye wasn't quite the same as when she talked to Naoto earlier. With the edge it had now, she might not even raise a single brow even if she ran someone over. Just as Naoto thought that, Ayano suddenly raised her head and turned it towards the bus, as if hearing his thoughts.

'Whoa.'

She glared at Naoto with the eyes of a hunter looking at her prey. But it only lasted an instance, as the girl on the bike immediately took notice of Natsume next to Naoto. Her lips slackened in a smile, as she gave a big wave with her hand - addressed only to Natsume.

"Ah! Amazing! She actually noticed us... Good morning!"

It's not like the rider would hear her, but Natsume still energetically greeted the other girl. 'See you', mouthed Ayano and, cutting the handlebar to the side, drove across a narrow bridge along the irrigation canal. That was a shortcut that a bus couldn't take.

Natsume kept waving at Ayano's dwindling back.

The only mystery regarding her was exactly that - namely, her being friends with Kuze Ayano. Their personalities were nothing alike, but the two were famous throughout the school as the ultimate beauties pair.

Still, even if both were considered beauties, with one of them being a messenger of Heaven and the other a watchdog of Hell, their popularity among guys was literally worlds apart, like heaven and hell. The emotion directed at Ayano was mainly not affection but awed fear, and there were even those among guys who hurried to get out of her way if they happened to cross paths at school.

She had nothing but abrasiveness for guys in general, and with those who came on too strong, she was merciless, hurling unhinged abuse or derision at them. She even caused an uproar soon after entering high school by actually brawling with a third year guy who'd snapped from too much trash-talking she'd thrown his way. For the record, just until taking the high school exam, Ayano practiced martial arts, and she was much stronger than your typical guy. In the aforementioned scuffle, too, if they'd stopped her just a second later, her upper right kick would've landed squarely on the bridge of the senpai's nose.

Ayano could always be found by Natsume's side. Trying to get close to Natsume automatically meant drawing nearer the watchdog of Hell. While Ayano wasn't the type to actively meddle in others' personal relationships, the braves who could overcome the invisible pressure she lavishly exuded were few and far between.

***

Just like its name suggested, the Metropolitan Iimigawa High school that Naoto and the others attended was located on the bank of a river. Once upon a time it was hailed as one of the top schools focused on preparing its students for college, but that position had been taken away long ago by a newly established private school that combined middle and high school divisions. It wasn't like this public school was sports-oriented either. In other words, presently it was considered just another run-of-the-mill school that was neither good nor bad.

At one time, abolition of the school uniform was considered, but in the end, they just redesigned it and stopped at that. Due to the redesigned uniform being popular, the proposal to allow students to attend school in plain clothes was shelved, leading to the present.

The bus that came to a halt at a bus stop a short distance off the school gate kept spitting one student after another who were then swallowed by the uniformed wave flowing towards the gate.

Natsume got off the bus before Naoto. Someone called out to her, and the voices exchanging greetings reached all the way to the top of the bus's steps. When Naoto took a look outside, a ponytailed girl with a big quiver in hand was facing Natsume. She was another classmate of his, by the name of Makino Yayoi. Naoto personally barely ever spoke to her, but she seemed to be on fairly good terms with Natsume.

As such, naturally assuming that from here on out Natsume was going to proceed to the school building in Yayoi's company, he started walking alone. Now that the string of tension slackened, his drowsiness made a comeback.

Stiffling a yawn as he walked, suddenly he felt the sleeve of his blazer being pulled. Turning, he found Natsume looking up at him. Naoto languidly wondered why she was here. Maybe she forgot something?

"Let's walk to the school building together."

It looked like she actually waited for him. Naoto felt like his heart was ready to leap out of his chest.

"Ah... sure," he barely managed to squeeze out by way of reply, and the two passed though the school gate together. It went without saying that Naoto wasn't nearly foolish enough to assume that Natsume might like him just from that. All he probably thought was that it was inconsiderate of him to take off on her without giving some sort of notice.

The first school building in front of them was getting closer. Iimigawa High had 2 school buildings that were connected by an overpass. The first building mainly housed special classrooms and 2nd year classrooms, while the second was allocated to 1st and 3rd year classrooms.

The buildings were utterly ordinary except for the mesh fences protruding from below windows of each floor like roofs. Those had been installed on short notice only last year, after an incident saw a student fall from the third floor.

The two passed by a roofed parking for bicycles. Natsume looked all around, inspecting the cluster of bicycles.

"I wonder if Ayano's already arrived..." "Probably."

The conversation broke off. The self in Naoto's head scolded him, demanding he speak up and talk more. That said, it wasn't exactly easy to come up with a tasteful conversation topic. Desperately forcing his heavy head to work, Naoto finally opened his mouth.

"Come to think of it, Kurano, why do you take the bus to school?"

Most of the students who rode the bus lived so far they usually first had to take a train before they could even reach the bus. But Natsume's house was even closer to the school than Naoto's or Ayano's, so in theory, it should've been much easier for her to commute to school by bike without having to be tied to the bus schedule.

"...W-Well, it's just, I don't have my own bicycle, you see." "Ohh?" Naoto elongated, tilting his head to the side a little. Perhaps due to his drowsiness, he didn't quite get her reply. "...Then you can just buy one?" "B-But, you know, it's... it's pretty expensive." "The housewife type bikes are cheap. I think it'd be cheaper than buying a commutation pass every month."

Naoto hardly understood why he was suddenly encouraging Natsume to buy a bike, but since the conversation seemed to flow smoothly, he decided it was all good either way.

"Yeah... That's true, but..."

Her answer was strangely evasive. When he tossed a quick glance down at her profile, he found her flushed to the tips of her ears.

"Kurano?" he called, but she kept her head down, making it impossible to see her face.

'Did I make her mad...? Don't tell I made her... cry?'

Panic-struck in the earnest, Naoto examined the short conversation they'd had until now. Did he make some kind of big screwup that couldn't be undone? However, he absolutely couldn't see how asking about someone's choice between a bus and a bike as their means of transportation to school could bring someone to tears.

"Kishimori-kun," the girl muttered. Her voice was colored by neither tears nor anger. "Y-Yes?" Naoto replied, jumping to attention. "I try to keep it a secret, you see..."

Naoto swallowed hard. The two stood facing each other in a corner of the bike parking area. Students who happened to pass by were giving them suspicious looks. If Naoto were to stoop, it would look like the two of them stood face-to-face. Suddenly, Natsume drew herself up to stand on her tiptoes and put her mouth close to Naoto's ear. When he felt her breathing on his cheek, it was like a stroke of lightning hit him, rendering him unable to move.

"You see, I... can't ride a bicycle," she said in a quiet voice barely above what was audible to human ear.

It took sometime for the meaning of her words to sink in Naoto's brain.

".........Huh?" "It's embarrassing, I know, but no matter how I practiced, it was just no use." "And it still holds true even now?"

Natsume nodded a few times. "I even asked Ayano to teach me, but in the end even though we both ended up all battered and bruised, it was to no avail at all. When the training wheels come off, no matter how I try, I just..."

The face of the girl before him was dead-serious. Kurano Natsume, who was perfect at anything and everything she did, including studies and sports, to the point where she had been nicknamed the Perfect Little Superhuman, couldn't ride a bicycle without training wheels, of all things...!

"Pfft." Naoto let a snicker he tried to choke back escape in spite of himself.

Natsume's cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red. "Please don't tell anyone about it." "I won't... And sorry I laughed."

Somehow succeeding in getting his snickering under control, Naoto took the lead and resumed walking. Even Natsume, the invincible honor student, had a weakness she couldn't tell anyone about, just like the rest of them mortals. If anything, that knowledge seemed to make him feel closer to her.

'Hm?' Suddenly, Naoto turned to her.

"Is it really okay with you to have shared that kind of secret with someone like me?"

Natsume broke into a smile. "Yes, it is. Because you're my precious friend, Kishimori-kun."

From this point on, for a while two thoughts kept colliding in Naoto's head. What she said could mean she thought of him as someone as close to her as Ayano - or her words could also be interpreted as her considering him to be the same to her as any of her same sex friends and nothing more than that. Naoto kept asking himself which one it was, but for all of his racking his brain, he couldn't reach a decisive conclusion.

When he returned to his senses, he was already inside the school building, starting up the stairs side by side with Natsume. And then he tripped on the very first step, falling over lamely and propping himself on both elbows around the fourth step or so.

"A-Are you okay, Kishimori-kun?"

Grasping Naoto's arm, Natsume tried to pull him to help him get up. When something soft and supple pressed against Naoto's upper arm, he jumped back in panic, recalling once again the talk stating while Kurano Natsume's frame was petite, her breast was by no means the same.

'...Oh, right. My sleep deprivation didn't go anywhere.'

He almost went straight to the classroom, just like he always did. Except if he did it in his present state, he'd be sleeping like a log the moment homeroom started. And he'd be lucky if that's all there would be to it, because the chances of his seeing that nightmare again were no small.

"I'm going to the infirmary." "Eh? Are you injured somewhere?" "That's not it, I'm just sleep deprived. I hardly slept yesterday." "Is that so...?" Natsume blinked wonderingly. Unlike Ayano or Mizuho, she didn't seem to have noticed Naoto's sleep deprived state until now at all. "See ya later." "I'm going with you."

Just then, the first warning bell sounded, coming from the speakers mounted close to the ceiling. When they passed through the gate, there still was a comfortable cushion of time, but it appeared they spent more time talking in the bike parking area than Naoto had thought. If a student failed to make it to their classroom by the time the next bell rang, it would count as being late.

"No need. It's not like I'm sick or anything."

Naoto tried to make his exit as fast as he could. Stopping by the infirmary first meant the bell would ring before it was possible to reach the classroom. Naoto refused to cause Natsume trouble on his account.

"I'll explain your absense to Komae-sensei," he heard Natsume's voice from behind.

Komae was the name of the homeroom teacher for Natsume and Naoto's class. Maybe the teacher wouldn't think of Naoto's absence as his cutting class if Natsume was the one to inform him.

"...Sorry. And thank you."

Naoto started walking, headed towards the infirmary. When he turned to look back once more before rounding the corner, he saw Natsume standing at the bottom of the stairs and watching him go.

4

In front of the infirmary, found on the first floor of the first school building, Naoto halted.

No sounds could be heard from inside, but the lights were on as they were supposed to.

'She must be in, I guess.'

He opened the door quietly. There was no one on either of the two beds set in the room. Few students would want to spend their time there even before morning homeroom. But of course, every rule has an exception.

"What are you doing here?" came a displeased voice from the back of the room. In a chair by the window, there sat Ayano.

'She really is here, huh.'

In her lap, there lay a book with a hard cover left open. Seeing as it had a vinyl coating, she must have borrowed it from the library. When she wanted to skip class, Ayano would often sit here reading. Her reading material of choice was mostly old books that majority of general populace hadn't even heard about.

"Um, where is Sahara-sensei?"

No answer was forthcoming. Ayano already went back to reading.

"Did sensei step out somewhere?" Naoto pressed the issue.

Technically, to sleep here one needed permission from the school nurse by the name Sahara. And Naoto was sure he would find her here without fail at this time.

"Look, you..." Seemingly unable to bear it any longer, Ayano slammed her book shut with a resounding bang. "Answer my question before asking one of your own, will you? Not answering a question with a question is basic common sense! Didn't your parents tea..."

She shut her mouth, apparently remembering that Naoto's parents could no longer teach him anything anymore. Shaken, unusually for her, she averted her eyes.

She would bitch and grumble at every opportunity whenever they saw each other, but she never said anything bad about Naoto's family - especially about his father Takaomi. Ayano lived with her mother, just the two of them; Naoto heard her father died a long time ago. Takaomi used to drop by sometimes Kuze's house on his was back from work and talk to Ayano in private. Ayano stated it was mostly to lecture her, but for all that, Naoto was under the impression that she listened to him relatively closely.

Once, Naoto did ask his father why he was so concerned about Ayano. Takaomi took a while to think before curtly replying, "We've known her for ages." Maybe he saw her as another daughter or something. He often asked Naoto and Mizho to be as friendly with her as possible. "What she says is mostly correct," he would even say.

But since being little, his blood-related daughter Mizuho and Ayano were never on good terms. Needless to say, their personalities that didn't mesh well were partly to blame, but Mizuho's loathing for what she probably perceived as father-stealing played a role, too. Come to think of it, if Naoto's memory served, Mizuho said something about Takaomi calling Ayano's name just before passing away. Naoto had thought Mizuho'd simply heard wrong, but at the same time, it was a solid fact that their father hadn't called the names of neither of his two children. Naoto did think that their father was somewhat distant and reserved even with his children.

"I'm here to get some sleep. If the nurse's here, not getting her permission first can't end well," Naoto said. What Ayano said about not answering a question with a question was true, he deemed.

For a while, Ayano just sat there with her face turned to the window, but then finally offered in a low voice, "...Sahara-sensei's out for now. Some first year felt sick, and she went to escort him to the hospital."

That was sure to take time. Naoto came up to one of the beds and put his school bag on the floor next to it. When they couldn't get permission due to circumstances, it was allowed for students to use the bed within the bounds of common sense.

"Which reminds me, what were you talking about with Natsume in the bike parking area?" Ayano spoke up out of the blue. "How come you know about it?"

Ayano tapped her fingers on the window pane. Indeed, from this window, the edge of the bike parking area was visible - the very same spot when Naoto and Natsume stood earlier.

"I saw you from here. Looked like it was a pretty serious talk. Did you do something?" "Well..." Then he noticed there was no need to falter. Ayano was Natsume's best friend, and from what Natsume said, she helped with her training to learn to ride a bicycle. "Kurano was telling me she couldn't ride a bike."

Ayano's eyes flew wide open. The book in her lap was on the verge of falling. It was highly unusual for her to be that disturbed.

"...Did you threaten Natsume?" "Huh?" "How did you manage to pry that secret out of Natsume? There's no way she just told you out of her own volition, now is there?"

Faced with the naked menace in her gaze, Naoto got agitated. He sifted through his memories frantically, but no matter how he looked, nothing he said or did classified as 'prying'.

"Sh-she told me of her own volition. Is it that unbelievable?" "Yes, it is. Only Natsume's family and me are privy to that secret."

Naoto was lost for words. He'd never imagined it was that big of a secret. "...Are you for real?" "Oh, I am. None of the kids who've been with Natsume since middle school know. Natsume told me she was too embarrassed to tell anyone, except for me, and she could only tell me because I was her precious best friend..." "B-But she went and told me herself in the natural progress of the conversation... because I, too, was her precious friend, she said..."

Silence followed. It was only broken by the ringing of the bell signalling the official start of the school day. It was time for morning homeroom. Only after the chime had completely died out did Ayano finally open her mouth.

"Uh, what I want to hear here is not your wild delusions..." "It happened in reality! Kurano really said that!" "How come you've become her precious friend all of a sudden?" "Well, that's..." Naoto wanted to explain, but no words came. "...Actually, I don't really get it myself... As anyone can see, it's not like me and Kurano are particularly close, yeah...?"

Naoto's voice was becoming quieter and quieter as he spoke. He didn't understand at all why Natsume would consider him a precious friend of hers. He had a feeling it might be some kind of mistake.

"Do you have any idea what could make her think so?" It felt weird having to ask Ayano that, but since Naoto had no clue himself, it couldn't be helped.

Eyes closed and index fingers pressed to her temples, Ayano appeared to be thoroughly searching her memory.

"Last year, when your scores on the end-of-term tests were on the failing side considerably more than usual, Natsume was helping you with remedial classes, right? At the time, you two looked pretty close." "And the same Kurano was also helping Nagata from the kendo club and Sawamura from the girls' basketball club when they failed their tests."

All the students in their class whose grades were not good had help from Natsume in one way or another. It didn't make it anything special. To begin with, Naoto just got helped one-sidedly, which was not quite the same as being close.

"Oh, well, she called you her precious friend, good for you. There's nothing in it for Natsume, but for you it's a great honor."

Contrary to what she was saying, she didn't sound good-humored, what with having to hear that Naoto who barely even talked to Natsume was considered to be a precious friend on the same level as her. Mixed feelings were par for the course, and Naoto understood that, somehow or other.

"Only, you're a just 'friend', and nothing more. I trust you know what's in store for you if you get too full of yourself and try putting weird moves on Natsume, yeah?" Ayano declared in a threatening tone.

Naoto felt a weird draft around his stomach at that. "..." "I'll put you through what you've just imagined, only multiplied by 20. To describe in detail what exactly---" "No... don't bother. I'll go sleep now."

Naoto drew the curtain over his chosen bed shut. If that talk continued, napping would become the farthest thing from his mind. Taking off his indoor school shoes, he was about to climb into the bed when a voice came from beyond the curtain.

"Lately, you've been sleeping in the infirmary a lot." "...Have I?" Pushing the blanket down towards the foot of the bed, Naoto lied down on his back. "You're not targeting the times I'm here on purpose, are you?"

Naoto's shoulders jumped. To loosen the tension, he took a deep long breath.

"Why would I do that? There's no point at all." "...I guess."

The questioning stopped surprisingly easily, and Naoto silently closed his eyes. He supposed it was true that sometimes what Ayano said was correct. He came here because this was where Ayano was. The question that he'd asked before boarding bus about whether she planned to attend her classes today was for that end.

When he slept with Ayano by his side, curiously enough he didn't see any dreams. No matter how much he mulled over why it was so, in the end, he had no slightest idea.

His nightmares first started during the test period at the end of his first year of high school. Unable to get fitful sleep at day and at night, he was in no shape to prepare for his tests, which is why he ended up flanking and having to take remedial tests to begin with.

Miraculously, he'd gotten through them all till the end, and then, having used up all of his energy, went to the infirmary. Nightmares or not, at that point he just wanted to rest at least a little. Just like today, at the time he'd found Ayano sitting by the window. Believing he'd wake up right away anyway, in the end he wound up sleeping like a log till dusk.

With the start of the new school term, every time nightmares assaulted him, he tried doing the same over and over again. It went without saying that no one, including, of course, Ayano, knew what he was doing.

'I have to tell her soon...'

That's what he'd always intended to do, but first, he'd have to explain about how he was tortured by nightmares. And he didn't want to be fussed over too much. Above all, his story was too crazy to easily believe it. He didn't even know if it really was thanks to Ayano that he didn't see nightmares.

'I'll... watch things for a while longer, and after that...'

Naoto was sinking into a comfortable sleep. From somewhere very far away Ayano started talking, but he no longer could hear what she was saying.

Before long, his consciousness shut down completely.

5

Naoto was in the classroom taking a class, the fact making him cock his head to the side in puzzlement.

On his desk, there was a textbook and an opened notebook as he was duly taking notes on the lesson taught.

'Huh?'

He couldn't read the characters he himself had supposedly written. They simply looked like black lines twisting and crossing randomly. Naoto must've been half-asleep when he scribbled them.

Wanting to check when his notes lost intelligibility, he turned to the previous page. But that page too turned out to be fully filled with strange lines. As he leafed through the notebook, he started feeling creeped out. Not a single page contained characters he could read. Some of them had weird drawings with arrows and patterns, but none of them made any sense.

'What the hell.'

He didn't remember writing anything like that. But at the same time it was impossible to deny his own writing idiosyncrasies showed through here and there in how the lines were drawn.Jeez, what was he even doing during XXXX class? If someone saw him, what would they think of him...?

'...Wait, what class, again?'

He picked up the textbook found next to the notebook. Upon a closer look, it turned out there was written characters on or in it. Just a few squares of several varieties lined up vertically, almost like when one wrote vertically. Like with his notebook, he couldn't read those at all.

The voice of the teacher who continued to drone today's lesson sounded muffled like it was coming through water. It was impossible to hear what he was saying.

Naoto raised his head and took a look around.

'...Huh?'

He occupied the front seat of the row by the window. This seat was his usual.

The classroom was dim, as if in the evening, and there were no other students. The voice of the teacher he was sure he could hear just moments ago had petered out.

Naoto was the only one in the classroom anymore.

On the blackboard, strings of densely packed characters were written. But like with Naoto's notebook and textbook, they were rubbish impossible to read.

'So this is a dream, huh.'

Naoto had calmed down at last. This didn't seem like a continuation of his nightmare from the night before, anyhow. The real him probably still slept in the school's infirmary.

This place resembled the real classroom a great deal, but when you looked closer, there were discrepancies in the details. For example, there was no door connecting the classroom to the hallway, only white wall stretched opposite the window.

Thick fog enveloped the world outside, making it impossible to see anything. Only, the windowpane right next to Naoto was open partway, and it bothered him.

Inside the classroom it was so quiet that it was probably possible to hear your own breathing if you tried.

Suddenly, Naoto felt a human presence moving, and he turned to look at the opposite corner of the classroom.

In the backmost seat by the wall, out of the blue a girl was seated. Her ponytail swishing to and fro, she was looking around wildly.

'...Makino?'

She was Makino Yayoi, a classmate of Naoto's. He saw her up close at the bus stop only this morning.

A grating scratching noise came, and Naoto shifted his eyes to the floor. Something was drawing closer from down below. Instinctively, Naoto tried to stand up, but his body was unexpectedly heavy as if he was moving through mud.

'..Oh right, this is a dream.'

It wasn't so strange for one's body not to move in a dream world the way one wanted.

Just then, a sound like a flapping of a wet rag came from the window. A grayish semi-transparent lump was clinging to the other side of the glass-pane. At a first glance, it looked like a giant slug of sorts.

However, when it slipped through the crack left open in the window and plopped on the floor of the classroom, Naoto realized that the monster's shape could just barely classify as humanoid.

"Whoa..." Naoto abhorred aloud quietly.

The gray blob that seemed to be sitting kneeling on the floor, turned its face to him, though strictly speaking, it was hard to call that a face. A big void yawning in the middle of that countenance was apparently a mouth. Above it there was nothing save for 2 points of red light. The grotesque creature resembled a child's very first attempt at making a clay figure.

'Red... eyes...'

And then, the gray monster got on all fours and with a speed that was hard to believe proceeded to the back of the classroom. Switching direction to head to the farthest back row of the seats, it disappeared from Naoto's field of vision briefly.

'Where did it go?'

His question was answered almost immediately. Behind Yayoi seated in the backmost seat by the wall a swaying gray shape not unlike a shadow slowly rose. Chin still on her hand, the girl stared at the blackboard, not noticing the monster's presence at all.

"Ah..."

Two flabby arms sandwiched Yayoi's face between them. She started twisting and struggling violently. The monster's upper half dipped forward sharply as it pressed its countenance to the crown of Yayoi's head.

In the next instant, Yayoi's limbs started kicking even more wildly. The desks and chairs around her crashed with resounding bangs as they got flung and flipped. Before long, she'd spent all her energy and it became quiet.

The monster raised its grotesque head and busily looked around as if sensing a presence. Its semi-transparent body was now tinged red, like an artist's paint with another color mixed in. The head of the girl squeezed between two gray hands was now shaped oddly, calling to mind a bowl. Her hair drawn back into a ponytail was nowhere to be found.

That's when Naoto finally understood what had just happened.

Yayoi's head was robbed of its top half.

'...It was eaten.'

All her limbs did anymore was only twitch every now and then. The monster went back to looming over the girl, starting to vigorously move its head again. Naoto could hear the slurping sounds clearly.

Every time the monster took a bite, the red within its body grew thicker.

'It's blood!'

The moment he thought that, it was like a spell binding Naoto got undone and a scream issued from his mouth.

***

Naoto leaped up in his bed in the infirmary.

Curling up on himself, he waited for the trembling from his dream to stop. This was his first time seeing a dream like that in the infirmary.

'It wasn't the usual dream though.'

Unlike with the recurring nightmare from the night before, he remembered the contents with clarity. Besides, he was certain a gray monster like that didn't appear in his previous nightmares. When Naoto turned over the watch he'd left by his pillow, he saw it was about time for the second period to be over.

"What even was it...? Really..."

That was Makino Yayoi, he was sure. No, actually, he couldn't be sure. Perhaps due to how scarring what had occurred was, he couldn't really remember much of anything else.

Even when he tried to convince himself it was only a dream, the gnawing creepiness of it didn't vanish. The feeling that he'd really witnessed a person being devoured alive still persisted.

"No, seriously, what the hell was that?" "Huh?" a voice came from somewhere very close.

He didn't know when, but at some point the curtain around the bed got open, and now there sat Ayano with her arms folded across her chest staring down at Naoto.

"You were making so much noise I couldn't read my book in peace." "I was being loud?" "Yes, you were. You kept groaning loudly in your sleep and even scared me. Like you were on the verge of giving birth to some new life or something..." "I'm not a woman on her last month pregnancy!"

Suddenly, he noticed a blue hand-towel lying in his lap. It didn't belong to Naoto. Picking it up, he realized it was cool and damp. Until now, it probably rested on his head.

"What's this?"

Ayano's hand instantly moved and snatched the towel away.

"Th-that's mine," she said, sounding somewhat peeved. "Eh?" "It's just, the nurse's not here... and you groaned like you were in pain, so I got this towel wet with water and..."

Naoto was taken by honest-to-god surprise. Not even in his wildest dreams could he imagine this abuse-spitting childhood friend of his looking after him. That was just...

"...thought about plugging your nose and mouth with it, but it proved a surprisingly difficult task."

...too good to be true, as expected.

"Were you trying to kill me...?"

Completely ignoring his murmured words, Ayano continued. "So, what kind of dream did you see?" "What kind, huh... I was in the classroom in the middle of a lesson, then a creature that crawled up the wall of the school building slipped in through the window... it was a weird monster with red eyes, and then it..." When he recalled witnessing a human being eaten from the head down, Naoto broke into shivers. He couldn't bring himself to relive it again by describing. "Well, let's say I knew it was a dream, but it felt so gory and so real.s.." "You said "red eyes"? A monster with red eyes appeared in it?" Ayano interrupted him. "Yeah... It did. What about it?"

Quite a while had passed before he got any answer to that. The towel Ayano had just taken back fell off her knees, but she didn't appear to take notice.

"...No, it's nothing," the girl finally muttered without looking at Naoto. Contrary to what she'd just said, she was clearly shaken.

Just then, from the speaker on the ceiling a chime rang out. The second period was over.

"Are you planning to go to the next class?"

Naoto's head was much clearer than before. Although he did have an unpleasant dream, his lack of sleep was elevated somewhat. "Yeah, I think I will." "I see."

Ayano stood up from the bed and returned to her chair by the window, though she didn't try to get back to reading. Lacing the fingers of the hands resting on her knees together, she stared at the ceiling vacantly.

Normally, she would never ask something like what Naoto was going to do next. She probably didn't realize it herself, but sudden trivial statements like that were her giveaway habit before a serious talk of grave importance. However, there was no way she would easily divulge the information even if Naoto asked her what was wrong. If she just could be more upfront like that, it would so much easier for Naoto.

'So what do I do...?'

Skipping the next class to stay here and wait for her to speak was probably the only way.

As far as Naoto was concerned, he wasn't fond of the idea of skipping classes and school events. Even if others didn't think much of it, for him doing things he shouldn't was never easy.

That said, just taking his leave here didn't sit right with him either. After all, this matter seemed to do with him, so he should probably hear out what Ayano had to say.

"I think I'll stay here a little lo---"

Suddenly, the door opened, and a tall man ducked as he entered.

"Excuse me, Sahara-sensei, but... wait, what are you people doing here?"  The man in glasses knit his brows. He was in his mid-thirties, wearing a dress shirt, though without a tie, and suit pants. It was Naoto and Ayano's homeroom teacher Komae. "If you're here because you're feeling sick, then I don't mind, but if you're fine, then go study, will you! We've gone through the questions today that will be on the test, so make sure you ask someone to show you the notes."

Come to think of it, the second period was classic literature that Komae was in charge of.

"Erm... Sorry," Naoto apologized without thinking, but Ayano by his side was still lost in pensiveness. "No, I wasn't really talking about you, Kishimori... Kuze, you're the one skipping class without reason, aren't you!"

Ayano finally raised her head, looking like she only just now noticed the new arrival.

"Oh, sensei. Good morning." "It's not morning anymore. Goodness, it won't kill you to listen to what people to you once in a while... I understand that high school is not compulsory education and that it might seem like too much trouble to attend every one of your classes, but you have to learn some social etiquette, or in the future..."

Once Komae-sensei got started, he wouldn't stop for some time. While it was true that he was more serious than necessarily and with a propensity to nag, he was also empathetic, feeling warmly about his students. By no means students harbored him any ill will.

Ayano who skipped a lot of her classes warranted his special concern. It was not rare for him to stop her as she wandered about the school and sternly reprimand her. This year after a long while he finally decided to take charge of a class, so it was no wonder that he was so enthusiastic about his job as a homeroom teacher.

"I'm not asking you to prioritize my class for attendance, but for your own health, do attend PE at least..." "Excuse me, sensei," Naoto finally interrupted. He had to, as there was something he'd been quite worried about. "Is the person on your back okay?"

Komae-sensei came to the infirmary carrying the small frame of a female student on his back. Her face was hidden from view, limply pressed into his shirt-clad shoulder.

"Oh, right." It appeared he really had forgotten about her, too caught up in lecturing Ayano.

Komae laid the student down on the bed Naoto had slept in. The hair from her undone ponytail fanned across the sheets.

"...Makino?"

Naoto was very surprised to see Makino Yayoi laid out on the bed. "Is she not feeling well?" "Well, I'm not sure... She just fell asleep during my class and now doesn't wake up no matter how I try to shake her awake. I decided to carry her to the infirmary just in case... Hey, Kuze, where do you think you're going?" "Huh?"

Ayano who was previously seated in the chair by the window was gone. Apparently, she took off when Komae was busy laying Yayoi on the bed.

"That girl is hopeless." Komae-sensei clicked his tongue. For Ayano to escape without listening to his scolding till the end was, too, business like usual. "...Oh well, for now Makino takes priority. Do you know where Sahara-sensei is?" "Ummm, I heard she was out escorting someone to the hospital... Ah, but I don't know where she's at the moment though."

After all, it'd been about 2 hours since Sahara had left for the hospital. Maybe she came back while Naoto was sleeping.

"I see. Then I'll drop by the staff room quickly to check while you watch Makino here, okay?" "Ah, sure."

With that, Komae-sensei exited, breaking into a jog.

With nothing better to do, Naoto, left behind in the infirmary, shifted his eyes to watch over Yayoi. Her complexion wasn't pale or anything. She simply breathed quietly in her sleep.

As he looked at her, Naoto remembered the tragedy that'd taken place in his dream. It was after that dream that Yayoi's condition had taken this weird turn. Almost as if the dream foreshadowed something...

'No, that's just impossible.'

Naoto shook his head to refute that train of thought.

It was just a dream. He really needed to stop overthinking these trifle things.

[woildismyerster]

Crutchie having a cheesy little self-care day with the reader, and then Feelings are revealed?

“Treat,” you said with a grin.

“Y/N,” Crutchie said patiently.  “No.”

“Yo’.”

“Don’t do this.”

“Self,” you finished triumphantly.

Crutchie sighed, but he had a tolerant grin on his face.  “No.”

“C’mon,” you urged.  You shook the page of stickers in his face.  “We could pimp your ride.”

“My cane is not a ride.”

“It gets you places, doesn’t it?”  You smiled at the stickers, dozens of glittery dinosaurs.  “They’re beautiful.”

He snorted.  “I already treated myself.”

“To a set of earbuds,” you scoffed.  You and Crutchie had gone to the mall for a full-on self care day.  You were in the spirit of things, but Crutchie was a little more hesitant.  “You were just replacing your old set.  That’s not a treat.”

Crutchie shook his head.  “I don’t need the stickers.”

“Fine,” you said.  He looked at you, surprised at the swift end to the fight.  When he saw the set of your jaw, the relief melted off his face.  “I think I need them, though.  How hard could it possibly be to find a good place for them?”

You gave his cane a longing stare, and he shifted it behind a shelf.  You laughed and moved on.

“This is so us,” you beamed.  You held up a set of t-shirts, proudly pointing at the words ‘Bitch 1’ and ‘Bitch 2’.  

He raised one eyebrow.  “I’m sorry to break it to you, but I think your eyesight has gotten worse.  See, you thought you went out with Race, but you’re actually out with Crutchie.”

Your jaw dropped in mock horror.  “Oh no.  No wonder this sucks so much.”

He laughed, knocking you with his cane.  “This is the happiest you’ve ever been.”

“As if you’ve ever been happier.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.  “We could be sitting in an empty parking lot, and I’d be happy that it was the two of us.”  He wandered away from the display of t-shirts, already forgetting about what he had said.

You followed him toward a bookstore, letting your smile linger and allowing your eyes to rove over him in a way that you never could when he was looking.

In a way, he was right: had you been looking for a true spending spree, you would have invited Race.  You knew what you were getting into when you invited Crutchie, and you didn’t regret it at all.

Every friend filled a certain hole in your life.

Race made you laugh.

Jack, self destructive as he could be, saved you from your own self destructive tendencies.

Katherine fueled your passion by being passionate herself.

Crutchie filled you with butterflies and smiles and plans for the future.

So, yeah, Crutchie may not have been the best choice for treating yo’self.  You had known it when you invited him, and you knew it now.  Whatever.  He was a treat, and you got to be yourself around him.  What more could you want?

You watched one of the stylists file Crutchie’s toenails.  “What, no threats about what happens if I tell people about this?”

Crutchie snorted.  “I don’t care who knows how good my feet look.  One of them doesn’t work, so it might as well work it.”

You laughed until you had to lean over.  The woman working on your feet gave you a reproachful look, but she was fighting back a smile.

You filed the statement away so you could bask in it later, forcing the laughter down.  “That’s right, Crutch.  You’re already so handsome; this is all it take to push you straight into gorgeous.”

The woman at your feet smiled outright.  “You two are adorable.”

“Thanks,” Crutchie said pleasantly.  “We try.”

You shot him a sappy grin, knowing that he would have to fight back a snort when he saw it.  “I hardly have to try.  Crutchie is cute enough on his own.”

“The pot says to the kettle,” he cooed.

Though he was out of reach, you stretched out one hand for him.  “Love you, boo.”

He reached for you, fingertips nearly able to touch yours.  Your chest ached a little when you couldn’t quite touch, though that was the point of reaching.  “Miss you.”

The woman’s eyebrows skyrocketed.

“We aren’t dating,” you said, taking pity on her.  “We’re just bros.”

“Love you, bro,” Crutchie said.

“Awe, bro.”

“Believe it or not,” she said dryly, “that doesn’t make you guys less cute.”

Crutchie laughed.  “That’s got nothing to do with me.  Y/N could bring the cute out of Satan.”

You had to suppress a squirm of pleasure.  He was wrong; Crutchie was adorable.  He was also mischievous, annoying, and idealistic, but all of that accompanied by a winning smile and an unfailingly positive attitude.

“Believe me,” you said to the woman.  “It’s Crutchie.”

The man working on Crutchie snorted.  “Are you sure you aren’t dating?”

“Usually,” you said lightly.  It was as true as anything else you had said.

At the end of the day, after stuffing yourselves with cheese curds and soft pretzels, you stared at the treats you and Crutchie had splurged on.

“Oh, Crutchie,” you said sadly.  “Is this the best you could come up with?”

He had his earbuds, new socks, and a crossword puzzle book to play ‘so I can live up to my grandpa reputation with the fellas.’

To be fair, the day was for small treats.  Neither of you could afford full on, Parks and Rec style splurges.  Still, you were sure he wanted more than this.  What about fun shirts?  Comfortable sweaters?  He could at least have gone for fun socks; white socks were never a treat.

“I’m a man of simple pleasures,” he protested.

“You’re a man now?”  You crooned the words, poking him in the side to watch him squirm with delight.  “Oh, my little Crutchie is all grown uhhhhhhhhhp.”  You dragged out the last word, running your fingers along his ribs while he laughed.

“Y/N,” he said - almost squealed, not that you would tell anyone.  He wrapped an arm around you, crushing your arms to your sides and your chest into his so you couldn’t move.

You were still laughing, unable to contain the giggles as you leaned your forehead against his shoulder.  “Unhand me.”

“Are you done?”  He smiled into your hair, sighing cheerfully as he adjusted his arms into more of a hug than a prison.

You considered, taking a deep breath.  He smelled like shampoo; something fruity, not something with a ‘manly’ name like SHOCK or ANARCHY or I LIKE CHOPPING WOOD.  Your heart stuttered a little.  “Yeah,” you sighed.  “Yeah, let’s call this a draw.”

He snorted, but let you go to pick up the bags he dropped.  “Seriously, though.  I don’t need much to feel treated.  Treated sounds weird.  Treat.  Trote.”

“It doesn’t just have to be buying stuff,” you said.  It almost sounded like a plea.  You wanted him to love this day.  You wanted him to look back on this day and smile, no matter how much time passed.  “It could be an experience or something.”

“Like what?”

“Bowling.  An all-you-can-eat buffet.  We could TP a house.  I could wingman you while you try to make out with your crush.”

The last one was clearly a joke, but his smile tensed.  “Are those treats for me, or treats for you?”

“Those are just examples!”  You threw your hands up, exasperated.  “I want this to be the perfect day for you, Crutchie.  Think.  If there was any one thing to make a normal day into the Best Day Ever, what would it be?”

He shifted, uncomfortable.  He ignored the frown you shot him.  “I dunno, Y/N.  This has been a great day.  I don’t need anything else.”

One more try, you promised yourself.  One more, and if he still said he was fine, that would be it.  “Today isn’t about needs.  It’s about wants.”

“I already have you,” he protested.  “Why can’t that be my treat?”

“You always have me.”  Why would that make the day special?

He became very interested in shifting his bags from one arm to the other.  “Well, yeah, but that doesn’t make the day less great.  It wouldn’t have been as much fun with anybody else.”

You forced a laugh, hoping it masked the way your chest constricted.  Worrying that it wasn’t enough, you distracted yourself by fixing the collar of his shirt.  You must have messed it up when you tickled him.  “Awe, bro.”

“Not really like that,” he said with a cringe.

“Like what, then?”  Your hands froze at his neck while you waited for him to respond.

He blinked at you, eyes wide and sad.  His face was very close to yours, and you could see it registering with him in the way his eyes flickered all over yours.  He leaned in, his nose brushing against yours.

Your eyes closed, but it didn’t stop you from knowing the exact second his lips would brush against yours.

Your fingers latched onto his collar again, no doubt messing it up further, but you didn’t care.  You used the leverage to pull him closer, and you heard no protestations.  All you heard was his sharp inhale and his cane slipping from where it leaned against the table.  Neither sound made as much of an impression as his lips or his fingertips.

When he pulled back, it wasn’t far.  “Was that enough of an experience?”

“Treat yo’self,” you said.  His nose was still brushing against yours, and you smiled.  “That was great, bro.”

He gave a huff of laughter before pulling away.  “So that’s enough?  The day can end now that I’ve made it into my Best Day Ever?”

“We could go back for those shirts,” you offered.  You leaned over to pick up his cane, and when you handed it off to him, he shifted the bags onto his wrist so he could hold your hand in his free one.

“No,” he said quickly.  “No, this was good enough.”

“But having a shirt would let you remember today all the time,” you said dramatically.  “You’d never have to forget.”

“I’ll just stick with repeating the experience, if that’s okay.”

“That’s fine.”  Great, really.  Really, really great.

[a-corndog-named-schibbs]

Fangs, Fur, and Phantoms - Chapter 8

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Next Chapter

Gonna be busy over the weekend, so you guys get this chapter a little early!  Lance brings a present to the festival, Pidge isn’t feeling like herself, and Hunk is a badass in an unexpected way.

Enjoy!

The All Hallow’s Eve festival was finally here and, as usual, Pidge was helping her family set up their booth.

After taping the large banner Matt had made reading “Baked Goods from Mochas & Magic” to the front of their table, Pidge and Hunk set out trays of the treats themselves.  They arranged maple donuts, pecan tarts, and every type of pumpkin-flavored dessert imaginable into aesthetically-pleasing shapes.  Pidge double-checked that all the spells on the treats were properly applied. There were the classics: charms to ensure a good harvest and wards against evil, but also ones that Pidge herself had designed to fit the Halloween spirit: good-luck spells to ensure pranks went smoothly, minor glamours to give any costume extra pizazz, and protection spells against unwanted jumpscares.

As she finished arranging everything, Pidge looked around at the other booths set up along the avenue, selling everything from street food to homemade Halloween knick-knacks to fall-themed accessories.  Pedestrians were already wandering from booth to booth, eager to see what the vendors had to offer.

The All Hallow’s Eve festival was honestly one of Pidge’s favorite events of the year.  The vast majority of New Altea’s population was supernatural and Halloween was one of the few days of the year when they didn’t hold anything back.  And the festival itself was a great draw for supernaturals from out of town.

Coran had set up the St. Groggery’s booth just across the street from their own.  Once they were done with their set-up, Pidge and Hunk wandered over to talk to him.  He was handing out the church’s newsletter, as well as some small, strange cards that Pidge didn’t recognize.

“What are these?” Hunk asked, picking one up to study it.  An image of St. Peter looked back at him.

“Well, All Saint’s Day is tomorrow,” Coran explained, “and one of the nuns thought it would be funny to make trading cards of different saints.”

“Like Pokemon?” Pidge snorted with laughter, “That’s awesome!  ‘The Virgin Mary used Immaculate Conception!  It’s super effective!’”

“Yes, that was the idea.  I don’t suppose I could convince you to give me a free maple donut if I give you a limited edition St. George?”

Before long, Lance and Keith showed up as well, along with Keith’s family, most of whom immediately scattered throughout the street, following various delicious scents.  Lance was carrying his umbrella to keep the worst of the sun off, as well as a briefcase for some strange reason.

“What’s in there?” Pidge asked, pointing at it,  “Money?  You know, our pumpkin muffins aren’t that expensive.”

“Just a gift for someone I’m meeting here.”

Pidge raised an eyebrow but didn’t push the issue further.

Meanwhile, Keith and Romelle had successfully bugged their mother into buying donuts for them.  They chowed down while Krolia chatted with Pidge’s mom about the teddy bears her cousin Antok was selling from his booth.

“He makes them himself and sews little costumes for them.  You should check them out, they’re pretty cute.”

“We should get one for the café,” Pidge said to her mom, “We could put him next to the tip jar with a little sign that says ‘Tip if you think I’m cute!’”

Pidge’s mom chuckled, “That does sound like a cute idea.  You know what, I think I will get one.  Where did you say Antok’s booth is?”  She stepped out from behind the table so Krolia could show her the way.  Romelle tagged along behind them, eager to see more of the festival.

“So,” said Lance, after the two moms had wandered out of earshot, “any news about our…” he held up his hands to resemble antlers, “…horny friend?”

“Listen, if I never see that grendel thing again for as long as I live, it will be too soon,” said Pidge, “Also, please for the love of everything holy, never call it that.”

“Lance?” said Keith, between bites of donut, “That man across the street is looking at you.”

All four of them turned to see who Keith was indicating.  A tall, platinum-blond man stood across the street in front of the hardware store, staring intently in their direction.

Pidge shivered.  Hunk put an arm around her shoulder.  She noticed Lance angling himself so that he was blocking Keith from the man’s line of sight.

The man began walking toward them, giving Coran’s booth a wide berth as he crossed the street.

“Well, Lance,” the man said as he approached them, his voice silky-smooth, “It certainly is good to see you here.  I hope you did that favor I asked.”

Lance’s expression was cold, “Can we please discuss this somewhere private?”

“No, I think I’d rather discuss it somewhere public.” the man said lazily, “We wouldn’t want your little friends here to think you’re hiding something.”

“Lance, what is he talking about?” said Hunk.

Lance didn’t answer him.  Instead, he handed his umbrella to Keith, lifted up his briefcase, and opened it.

Inside were various articles of clothing, a suit jacket, a dress shirt, a woman’s blazer, a pencil skirt, all covered in bloodstains.  Pidge’s stomach turned.

“I did what you asked, now leave me alone.”

“Not so fast,” said the man, lifting up the dress shirt, “I just want to make sure.  Young man, your name’s Keith, isn’t it?  Can you tell me whose shirt this is?”

Keith sniffed the air, “That’s Shiro’s shirt, but how…?”  He suddenly grew pale.

“And is this Shiro’s blood on the shirt?”

Keith turned toward Lance.  “Lance, you didn’t.  There’s got to be some mistake.  Lance, tell me you didn’t—“

“I can’t tell you that,” Lance cut him off.

“Well, Lance, I must say, I’m impressed.” said the man, “I didn’t think you had the spine to pull it off.  I’m surprised to say I was wrong.”

“Oh, I’m full of surprises,” said Lance.  He reached into the briefcase, under the clothes, pulling out a small plastic water pistol and spraying the man in the face.

At first, Pidge thought it was simply a poorly-timed prank.  But then the man’s face began to break out in boils, filling the air with the smell of burning flesh.  He wailed in pain and many of the pedestrians stared, backing away from him.

“What the hell?” Pidge heard Hunk whisper faintly.

“I think you might be on the right track,” she whispered back.

“You horrible little bloodsucker!” the man snarled, trying to wipe the water out of his eyes with his sleeve, “I’ll kill you for that!”

“Not if we can help it.”

Pidge looked up.  There, standing across the street next to Coran’s booth were Shiro and Allura, holding…

“Are those Super Soakers?” asked Keith.

“It’s over, Lotor,” Allura called from across the street, “You’re under arrest.”

“And we’re making sure it sticks this time,” Shiro added.

The man, Lotor apparently, growled, “It’s not over by a long shot.”  Having gotten the water out of his eyes, he scanned the crowd.

His gaze landed on Pidge.

“You’ll do,” he said.

Then suddenly, where the man had stood moments before, there was a cloud of smoke.  The smoke rushed past Lance and over the table, straight at Pidge.  It surrounded her, filling her nose and mouth.  Her vision went black.

Oh, yes, said a voice in her head that wasn’t her own, You’ll do quite nicely.

***

One moment, Hunk had his arm around Pidge.  The next, she yanked herself out of his grasp and leaped over the table, knocking trays of pastries to the ground.

“Pidge, what—?”

Pidge turned toward him and he froze.  Her eyes were solid black.

“Well, this ought to do nicely,” she said, but it wasn’t her voice coming out of her mouth.  Lotor’s voice was layered over hers, creating an unsettling echo.  “A little short for my tastes, but certainly a spry young thing.”

Keith, who was standing closest to Pidge, took a step forward, “Pidge?  What is this?”

Pidge reached for him and wrapped a hand around his throat.

Keith dropped the umbrella he was holding and gasped.  He gripped Pidge’s wrist, trying to loosen her grip, but she only squeezed tighter, lifting him off the ground with inhuman strength.  His feet dangled as he tried to kick at her, his face turning red from lack of oxygen.

“I told you, Lance,” she said in Lotor’s voice, “If you failed me, I would kill everyone you care about.  Starting with this shaggy-headed little lapdog of yours.”

“No, don’t!” said Lance.  He turned toward Agent Shirogane, “Shiro, spray her with the holy water!”

But Shiro was shaking his head, “I can’t, it’ll hurt her too!”

Lance turned toward Hunk, “Hunk, do something!”

“Do what?  There’s nothing I can—!”  But there was something he could do.  He hated doing it, of course, it was one of his least favorite powers.

Still.  Pidge needed his help.

Normally, it took a fair bit of concentration for Hunk to maintain his physical appearance.  Now, he let it go, becoming only a vague shape of a human.  He passed through the table, as easy as passing through fog, and came up behind Pidge.  She snapped her head in his direction as he approached.

“What do you think you’re—?”

Hunk took the opportunity.  He floated toward her, then through her, into her, pushing his way into her consciousness and possessing her.

It was a little crowded in here for his tastes.  Lotor took up the most room, his presence forming an inky black cloud that nearly pushed Hunk out again.  For one frightening moment, he couldn’t find Pidge at all.  Eventually, though, he did locate her, a small but bright entity pressed up against the edge of her own mind, trying to shove Lotor’s massive presence out of the way to give her more room.

“Hey,” he said reaching for her.

“Hunk?” she said, reaching back for him.  He caught her and pulled her towards him.

“Are you okay?” he said.

“I’m alright…I think.  This guy keeps pushing me to the back.  I can’t even tell what’s going on out there.”

“I know,” said Hunk, “I think we’ve got to push him back out from in here.”

“How do we do that?”

“It’s your brain.  You’ve got to reject him, force him out.  Here, I’ll help you.”

It wasn’t an easy task.  Lotor hadn’t been here long but he was already rooting his way into the nooks and crannies of Pidge’s brain, determined to anchor himself.  Hunk yanked his grip loose wherever he could, while Pidge tried to shove him out, expanding to fill the spaces where he had lost purchase.

At first, it seemed like Lotor’s grip on her mind was too strong.  But then Pidge gave a final shove and suddenly Lotor was ejected from her mind.

“You did it!” said Hunk wrapping himself around her in a hug.

“We did it,” said Pidge.  She returned the hug before pulling away slightly.  “God, this feels so weird.  It’s better because I know it’s you, but…if you don’t mind, would you please exit my brain?”

“Right, of course.  I’ll leave you to your thoughts.” said Hunk, before stepping out of Pidge’s mind and back into the physical world.

“—him before he gets his strength back!” Allure’s voice was the first to reach his ears, as she shouted orders, “Coran, how fast can you bless this garden hose?”

Hunk was hit full in the face with the chaos of the scene.  Vendors and pedestrians were crowded around the group in a circle, clamoring to see what all the noise was about.  Hunk spotted Colleen among them, clutching a small teddy bear in a pumpkin costume with one hand and frantically pointing at her daughter with the other, saying something to Krolia that Hunk couldn’t quite hear.  Pidge was doubled over, trying to catch her breath after being possessed by two different people.  Keith was on the ground, gasping and coughing while Lance hovered over him protectively.  Allura was standing by the entrance to the hardware store, holding the nozzle of a garden hose while Shiro frantically tried to screw the other end into a spout on the side of the building and Coran repeatedly made the sign of the cross over it.  And Lotor was on the pavement, back in his human form and shakily getting to his feet.

“You…” he growled, turning in Hunk’s direction, “You’ll pay for this!”  He swung his fist at him.

Lotor’s hand passed harmlessly through Hunk, throwing him off balance.

Hunk grabbed a tray from the table and brought it down on Lotor’s head.

Lotor reeled several steps backward, before being knocked forwards again by a stream of holy water as Allura sprayed him with the hose.  He shrieked in pain and fell to the ground again, shriveling up on himself and sending up billows of foul-smelling smoke.

“That’ll hold him but not for long,” said Allura, dropping the hose, “Coran, please tell me you’ve got some way to contain him.”

“I can but I’ll need a vessel to put him in.  A doll or something…”

Pidge stood up straight, “I know what we can use.”  She turned toward her mother, “Mom!  Mom, throw me the bear!”

Colleen tossed the pumpkin-clad teddy bear to Pidge, who tossed it to Coran, who caught it and began chanting in Latin.

At once, the smoke billowing off of Lotor began to flow into the bear as Lotor’s form dissolved before them.

“No! No!” Lotor shouted before the last of his form disappeared into the toy.

“You cannot do this!” the bear shouted in Lotor’s silky-smooth voice, which had lost much of its intimidation coming out of a plush toy the size of a rabbit.

“Quiet, you,” said Coran, giving the toy a shake.

Colleen, meanwhile, had muscled her way out of the crowd and was pulling Pidge into a hug, while Krolia and Romelle knelt down next to Keith.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?  Are you hurt?” said Colleen, stroking Pidge’s hair.

“I’m okay, Mom, really.”

“And you,” said Colleen, letting go of Pidge and giving Hunk a hug, “I can’t thank you enough.”

“I-It’s not a problem, Mrs. Holt, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”  Hunk turned toward Allura, “So what happens now?”

“Now we all calm down and see about locking him up properly this time,” said Allura, nodding toward the teddy bear that was now Lotor, “As long as there’s no more excitement, I think we’ll be just—“

She was interrupted by a loud roar.

The entire crowd turned as one in the direction of the noise.  In the distance, its horned head rising above even the rooftops, loomed an enormous beast.

The grendel had arrived.

[hobiboo1]

The DUFF- Part 5

the duff au // college au // future smut // humour // basketball player jungkook // dancer jimin // best friends jin + taehyung                                                                       

Your annoying neighbour and childhood friend, Jungkook, strikes a deal with you to help you get the attention of your crush, Jimin, if you help him pass his philosophy class.

warnings: sexual content, drinking, swearing, use of the words ‘fat’ and ‘ugly’

Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5

Part 5:

“Have you talked to Tae and Jin today yet?” Jungkook asks, stuffing more chips than you thought possible into his mouth directly after.

“No,” you sigh, remembering the situation from which Jungkook had been distracting you. “Did Tae tell you what I said to him?”

“He told Jin and I overheard,” He admits, “Not that I was eavesdropping.”

“I feel terrible about it,” You grimace, resting your head in your hand and gazing out at the aftermath of the sunset from your booth next to the window. You like the way the purple seems to melt over the buildings, it reminds you of how you’re feeling.

“Can I ask you something?” Jungkook suddenly leans in closer to whisper. You tilt your head to look at him.

“Yeah…”

“Is it because of… that stuff I said about the D.U.F.F?” You’re about to say something but he just carries on. “Because that’s all bullshit, it’s just childish bullshit and I don’t even know why I brought that up, and it’s obviously not even true because Jimin likes yo-”

“Stop, Jeon,” You find yourself having to squeeze his hand to get him to stop rambling, and it does instantly. “you were right, anyway.”

“What do you mean? I wasn’t right-”

“Yes, you were.”

“No. I wasn’t.”

You scoff and roll your head backwards, “I got all butt-hurt and sensitive about it because it’s true. Or, at least, it was true. I’m not mad at you for just being honest.”

“Y/N…” He says softly and then abruptly stands up to slide into your fake leather seat next to you. He drapes his arm around you and points to the darkening sky, with almost no trace of color left spare the smudge of gold from the distant city blurring into the midnight blue. “How beautiful is that?”

Yeah, it’s really beautiful, but you’re not sure where he’s going with this, so you just hum in agreement, but he doesn’t say anything else for a while, not until you turn to look at him, his nose nearly touching yours.

“Look, I’m not really good at this kind of stuff,” He says, “but I’m really sorry about that stuff I said because it’s just nonsense, childish shit that I regret ever saying. Maybe you had those kinds of issues in high school but just leave that label out of it, for your own sanity.”

You appreciate the sincerity in his voice but you’re not even sure how to respond. What should you say? That with or without the label you had those insecurities in high school? Should you tell him how terrible you feel for throwing it in Taehyung’s face out of the blue when he never did anything wrong? Or should you just sit there and enjoy the way his arm is holding you tightly, comfortingly. Neither, apparently.

“Well this is… interesting,” A husky voice snaps you out of whatever daze you were in.

“Hey, Hana,” Jungkook turns his head to greet the fashionably dressed girl. She’s dressed almost like the way Jungkook dressed you and you suddenly wonder why they broke up. Did he love her? You can’t even imagine that. You used to assume it was for some other reason than her being as mean as she is because you wouldn’t have put it past him to stay with a girl because she’s pretty, even if she is really rude. But you’ve come to realize you may just be a really unfair person.

“I must say, I thought I made it clear that you should stay away from Jungkook when he was hanging out with you out of pity in the mall that day,” She fake laughs.

“Hana, we aren’t dating anymore,” Jungkook’s voice is more serious than you’re used to.

“Oh come on,” She draws out, throwing her head back in frustration, her red hair bouncing healthily. “You? Hottest guy on campus. Me? Hottest girl. It’s just the way things work.”

You can’t help but laugh at that and it reminds her that you’re still there. “You know,” She pulls out her phone and does something with it before showing the screen to you and Jungkook, “when I saw these photos, I thought I really must be going out of my mind, or that Jungkook just really, really pities you.”

Your eyes widen in shock at the photo. It’s of Jungkook, tired and sweaty after basketball practice, shirtless and standing in front of the stands, where you are sitting. You’re smiling at each other. Of course, in this photo it looks like something is going on between you, but you don’t understand what that has to do with her.

“What the fuck is this?” He asks.

“And I can’t forget this,” She grins wickedly and swipes to the next photo. It’s of you and Jungkook at that coffee shop on campus, he’s leaning forward with his hand supporting his cheek, and he’s smiling at you. The back of your head is towards the camera. You grab Jungkook’s hand from the other side of his thighs under the table, feeling anxious and confused and sort of scared, and he holds it tightly.

“What do you want from us?” You ask.

She laughs like you’ve said something completely stupid. “Oh, sweetie, that’s the thing. There is no ‘us’. I don’t want anything from you. You are nothing and you can just disappear, ok? Stop bothering me and my boyf-”

“That’s enough! What the fuck is the matter with you?” Jungkook hisses, not wanting the people at the fast food register to hear and misunderstand the scene as him yelling at some pure, innocent and pretty girl. “In what world is stalking someone ok? Did you have to follow us around to get those?”

She smiles as if she’s unfazed and slides into the seat opposite you. “He did always like to fight with me,” She says to you and you want to spit in her face. “So, at first, when my girls told me they’d been seeing you two around, I laughed, but when they started sending me these photos, I thought maybe Jungkook really has lost it. He’s actually fallen for you,” You can feel him tensing up next to you, “the thing is, though, I don’t care if Jungkook got hit in the head with a ball or something and decided he could be seen with you, what I do care about, however, is that he comes back to me. Jungkookie, baby, if you come back to me now, I’ll forgive you for this little ‘rebellion’ of yours.”

“Hana,” He laughs and you turn to him in surprise, not expecting him to. “You’re actually insane.”

“Jungkook, I don’t care what you think of me. In fact, I don’t care about you much at all, but I care about my career. I’m about to be famous, and I need you by my side, ok? This isn’t a discussion.”

“Yes, this whole having your ‘girls’ take photos of us is creepy, but I don’t see how you think you could get me to do that.” He says straight-faced.

“Oh, if you think the photos are something, you should see what else I have. Could really ruin poor Y/N’s university life. You wouldn’t want that happening to your little lady love, right?”

“What are you-”

“But you know what the funniest thing about this whole situation is? It’s that Jungkook is the one in love with Y/N, while Y/N is in love with Jimin. Isn’t that pathetic?”

“That’s enough,” That finally pushed Jungkook over the edge and he abruptly stands up, looking down at you to tell you to do the same. “Stay the fuck away, ok?”

He grabs your hand and pulls you with him.

Jungkook is mad. He’s fuming silently, his knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. You have no fucking clue what to say. You have no fucking clue what just happened. You recognize the route he’s taking as the one back to your apartment building, but he ends up taking some arbitrary street.

‘Let’s go out, how’s that sound?” You can tell he’s forcing his voice to sound normal.

“Uh, are you sure you want to do that?”

“Hobi said he was going to this concert, he’ll be able to get us in,” He tempts. “It’ll be fun and we need to relax.”

That’s true.

“Ah, Jungkook, and Y/N,” Hoseok walks out of the back door to greet you with his arms open and his smile as electrifying as ever, “you look lovely as always.” He says while pulling you into a hug.

You know he’s just saying that for the sake of saying something, you’ve heard those same words used on other girls around him since he was 14-years-old.

“You won’t believe the crowd in here tonight,” He leads you through the back room and towards the music. “You like dance music, right?” He spins around to ask you. “I’m sure Jungkook’s taken you out to a place like this before. He’s a big fan.”

“Actually-”

“Anyway, just follow my lead and you’ll experience this place in the best possible way.” You decide it’s best to just let Hoseok do all the talking. You’re surprised Jungkook gets along with him so well seen as he also never shuts up. “The artist performing really knows his stuff, knows how to get that beat into your bones, if you know what I mean.” He stops at the final door, the music being it’s loudest yet. “But you’ll see for yourselves.” He says and opens it.

A sudden wave of sound floods over you, almost like a strong gust of wind that could blow you right over. It takes you a few seconds to even be able to step into the room, crowded with dancing bodies, full of blue lights and flashing strobes. Jungkook is walking just ahead of you- his grey sweater doing little to hide the definition of his back and shoulder muscles, and his raven hair is glowing from the blue lights in front of him, illuminating his loose strands. He stops and peeks over his shoulder, barely sparing you a glance before grabbing your hand, like it’s just a normal thing you two should do when in a crowded place. You suppose you’ve felt his hands for a couple of reasons in the last little while.

Hoseok leads you to some steps and gestures to the bouncer that you are Jungkook are with him. The tall, buff man unhooks a red rope and lets you up to an elevated area, full of comfortable couches and hookahs, accommodating rich looking people. You’ve never done anything like this.

Hoseok collapses dramatically onto one of the couches and pats the space next to him. The only open space left. A small open space. Jungkook sits down first and you squeeze in next to him. He’s kinda forced to put his arm behind you to give you more space.

“This is Namjoon,” Hoseok adds nonchalantly, gesturing with a flick of his head to a tall man sitting opposite you in a single chair as he leans forward to grab a bottle of champagne. Namjoon is dressed in an alternative plaid coat, beige pants, dark ankle boots and a beanie pulled nearly right down to his eyes. Once again, before either you or Jungkook get a chance to introduce yourselves, Hoseok is thrusting two glasses of champagne in your faces, raising his voice so you can hear him.

“He’s going up on stage in a little bit. Real good!”

“Oh? Are you a DJ?” You yell so that Namjoon can hear you from his seat a meter or so from you.

“Rapper,” He leans forward to grab his glass from the table between your seats. He leans back, his leg coming to rest over his other as he looks out to the side and over the pulsing crowd. You watch him for a minute, his mysterious, detached and confident aura making it difficult to look away.

“You’ve probably heard him on the radio. His stage name is RM.” Hoseok says and takes a gulp of his drink.

“RM!?” You exclaim with wide eyes and instantly cringe at your reaction. Great, now you sound like a total fangirl right in front of thee RM. He turns his head and smirks at you but spares little time on you, turning back to the crowd.

You bring your free hand to cup your burning cheek, deciding to take a sip of your icy drink. “Do you always hang out with fucking celebrities?” You hiss into Jungkook’s ear.

He quirks his head to look down at you and he’s sitting so close that you can smell the champagne on his breath. He chuckles, “sometimes.”

You roll your eyes, “Can you get any more irresistible to these girls?” You eye a group of pretty girls watching Namjoon, Hoseok and Jungkook and giggling to themselves.

“Jealous?” He says with his mouth so close to your ear you can feel the soft skin of his lips grazing you, making the hairs on your neck literally stand up.

You scoff, “Please,” But find yourself having to quickly down your drink.

You catch a glimpse of Jungkook’s stupid bright smile from the corner of your lips but move forward in an attempt to join Hoseok and Namjoon’s conversation, and to get further away from Jungkook.

“You look stiff,” Namjoon says before his eyes even reach your figure, and you only realize he’s talking to you when his eyes meet yours.

“Oh! I-”

“Have another drink,” He cuts in, pouring you another glass and smiling pleasantly as he hands it to you. You cannot wrap your head around the fact that you’re sitting in the VIP area of one of the trendiest clubs in the city, sipping champagne with fucking RM.

“It’s this song!” Hoseok suddenly screeches, jumping up and pulling Jungkook away with him into the crowd before you can blink an eye.

They make their way to the center of the dance floor, unsurprising for Hoseok. They’re both grinning their chiseled faces off, starting to move their bodies as they yell the lyrics. The song must be special to them, or something.

“I thought Jungkook was dating that Hana girl,” Namjoon pulls your attention away from the boys. You instantly stiffen at the mention of that name. Well, he’s blunt.

‘They-”

“So how long have you two been a thing?”

“We aren’t dating- wait, you know Jungkook?”

“Kind of. Good guy. Personally, I think he’s better off without her.”

“What makes you say that?”

“She tried to sleep with me. But, other than that, he’s just too good for her. Always cared more; I mean that isn’t difficult with someone like Hana, but still. Treated her like a queen and she was trying to fuck any vaguely famous person she could get her hands on.”

You suddenly had 1000 questions you wanted to ask him about Jungkook and Hana. “So Jungkook was like… in love or something…”

“I think ‘love’ is a strong word… but he was into her enough to commit, to try make it work, you know? Anyway, I’m glad he got out of that before he did actually fall in love with her.”

“That would be hard,” You say without thinking.

“Ah” He grins, “so you’ve had the pleasure of meeting her?”

“Jungkook and I were just fucking threatened by her.”

“Threatened?” He raises his eyebrow with intrigue.

“Her creepy minions went around taking photos of us…”

“Wait, I thought you said you and Kook aren’t a thing…”

“We aren’t, but Hana is still out to get me. She wants him back. For her career or some shit. She even knows I’m… with someone else, but she doesn’t want me and him hanging out… I don’t know… maybe she thinks he cares enough about me to get back together with her. Apparently she has some ‘dirt’ on me.”

“So you’re with someone else? You seem awfully touchy with Jungkook for someone who’s taken.”

“Jesus, you’re a curious dude-”

“Namjoon, they need you! Y/N, come on!”

Hoseok runs up to you and pulls you up. When you look towards Namjoon, he’s already disappeared. Is he an actual ghost? What a weird guy.

“Wait, Hoseok! Where are we going?” You yell, being whizzed forward in a blur with his hand pulling you behind him.

Hoseok pulls you into the center of the crowd, the scent of excited bodies and the vibrations of the music already sinking through your skin and into your bones, your hands itch as you are overcome with the urge to dance to the beat. Jungkook grins when he notices Hoseok pulling you towards him, he has a look in his eyes that tells you he’s impressed. It may be surprising, but you love a good club, especially one far from campus, where no one knows you.

The music dies down and an MC walks onto stage, already causing a cheer from the crowd, you find yourself clapping along.

“Alright, alright, it’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” He starts. Cliché. “Finally, please scream your drunk little heads off,”Slightly better. “For RM!!!!” He drags out RM’s name, causing the crowd to do exactly what the MC asked of them.

The energy is contagious and you use your hands to cup your mouth to echo your cheers. When Namjoon walks onto the stage, the music booming and his words catchy, you spare a moment to admire his unique style and original energy before losing yourself to the crowd, the music, the moment.

On either side of you Hoseok and Jungkook are also swept up by the sound, bobbing their heads and moving their hands as they chant the lyrics. You all get more and more excited until you’re just about screaming along to Namjoon, who is jumping and sweating and captivating. As the night progresses and Namjoon performs more and more songs, it’s like Jungkook and Hoseok just get crazier, doing these strange little dances, Hoseok twerking at one point and Jungkook doing exaggerated and stiff jazz hands, the look on his face even more hilarious than the actual dance move.

By the time you stumble out the back of the club all three of you are all laughed and danced out, except maybe Hoseok. He looks like he could go for another song or two, despite the sun starting to rise. The best part? No upcoming hangover. You all had one or two glasses of champagne at best, and that was long out of your system.

“Ahhhh,” Jungkook let’s out a long, happy sigh, lifting his arms to the sky, his eyes adorably droopy as the tiredness sets in and the adrenaline wears off, “hello, sun.”

“Wait, you two,” You point to a spot of ground in front of you, “stand there. This sunrise is gorgeous.”

They follow your instructions as you pull out your phone, they throw their arms over each other, stumbling forward slightly and causing them to laugh. You capture a photo just at that moment. They’re both grinning, mid-laugh, leaning slightly forward as they hang onto each other affectionately, buildings shadowy behind them as the sky is orange above them. Good, you think, Jungkook especially looks good.

Spreading out in the back seats of Jungkook’s car, you feel extremtly good. Extremely tired, but extremely good. You had a blast, the concert was great and so was the company. Hoseok is a lot better than you remember him, then again, there wasn’t much conversation had. Jungkook and Hoseok are still laughing and talking, out doing your energy level as always. Jungkook’s voice sounds particularly hoarse from all his screaming, but it sounds kind of good. You’re too dazed to try and concentrate on what they’re saying. Your phone is close to dying but it manages to hold out for you to check your messages. You see you have 3 missed calls from Taehyung and 4 from Jin. Your chest feels heavy again and you bite on your lip. You have to go home. And then there’s a message from Jimin. A few from Jimin.

Jimin [17:09]

Hey. Just got home, where are u? Wanna come over?

Jimin [19:29]

Is everything ok?

Jimin [21:22]

I don’t want to be dramatic, but is this about last night?

Last night? You suddenly flashback to your entangled bodies, his groans that fluctuated from deep to near whines, your own calls of pleasure. You can see his thick thighs and sweat laced neck, his adam’s apple bobbing and his thighs quivering as he reached his orgasm. You can almost feel how it felt to have him inside you and find yourself swallowing thickly. You look at Jungkook, who is in the middle of a dramatic reencounter of one of the night’s stories, and feel your stomach twist. Why do you suddenly feel so guilty having dirty thoughts about Jimin in the mere presence of Jungkook? Just a little while ago having sex with Jimin was one of your fondest secret dreams, and spending days in a row with Jungkook would be repulsive. But now, Jimin has left three texts, all showing concern for you and your shared night of hot sex and you’re dreading reaching your apartment because of how comfortable you feel right now, with Jungkook laughing that boyish laugh, rumbling energetically from his chest and his hands you’ve become so fond of gripping the steering wheel confidently.

Despite that, you inevitably reach the tall grey building that has become one of the most comforting sights. You feel yourself feeling down, your heart aching slightly as you reach for the door handle, but then they both get out of the car too and you remember oh right, Jungkook lives right opposite me. You drag your feet lazily, stopping every few to steps to yawn.

“Oh my godddd,” Jungkook groans as you keep slowing him down. “You’re always so goddamn slow.”

You would chuckle at him if you weren’t about to fall asleep standing. He rolls his eyes and walks towards you, spinning around just in front of you so you’re facing his back and he crouches down. You look down at his figure, not really getting what’s happening.

“Hop on, then.” He gestures to his back with false impatience.

You do as he says, trying to do it as gently as possible. He has a little trouble getting up, probably because of how tired he is. “Wrap your arms around me neck,” He directs you, putting his hands under your thighs for more support.

“Oh, kinky,” You joke, with the genuine intent to be funny, but you’re resting your head in the crook of his neck, practically whispering into his ear.

He clears his throat, readjusts you as you start to slip and starts up the stairs, not responding. Maybe he didn’t hear. That would be preferable.

“Why don’t we just take the lift?” You ask him, knowing Hoseok would be in there.

“May as well get some exercise in,” He says. It’ll give me more time. Your thighs feel good under my palms. Your breath is warm.

“I’m here anytime you need some exercise,” Damn it, you instantly regret saying yet another joke that could definitely be interpreted in aweird way. Well, this one was a dirty joke, but you suddenly feel inappropriate. He stiffens, his grip tightening on your thighs.

He just carries on climbing the stairs and you burry your head in his shoulder, your cheeks hot. You’re embarrassed. Very. Maybe you’re just letting some sick, secret part of you out. You’ve always been disturbingly honest when you’re very tired. You don’t want to think about that right now, though. Right now they’re just bad jokes.

He feels no need to fill the silence as he climbs up to the 4th floor, his jagged breaths starting to fill the empty halls, the only noise. At least he’s getting his 5am session of exercise after a night spent jumping around.

There’s an awkward moment, a goodbye cloaked in a stiff hug, both of you not knowing how to end the night. Like one of those moments everyone’s gone through too many times, one going in for a hug, the other for a handshake, fist bumping a high five, seeing someone you know and stopping thinking you should greet, them just walking past.

Hoseok shines you one of his stellar grins from a half open door, beating Jungkook to the apartment by far. Still, when you close your apartment door, you smile. A movie moment, leaning back against the door, hand on your heart, thudding sporadically. Why do you feel so happy?

You nearly break into a skip, a song, on your way to your bedroom. You come to an abrupt halt, however, when you hear a loud cough echo through the house. Taehyung. It’s not the right time, literally, to see him. You slowly look around, thank god, it came from his room.

After having the best piss of your life, you’re finally in bed. Happy. Happy. Happy. You’re happy. Too happy to even sleep. You figure it’s a mixture of things. Jimin, Jungkook, Hoseok, your night. Despite your fight with Taehyung, and sort of with Jin, and your strange conversation with Hana, you feel worriless. You flip so you’re lying on your side, and when you see a text from Jungkook, that feeling surges back, stronger, like it’s sitting in your throat, or being thrust into your face. You need to take a deep breath.

Jeon [05:56]

You get home safe?

You laugh out loud; he’s probably about 20 meters away, in bed, most likely. You picture it. He’s always been funny, but it’s much more enjoyable when he’s laughing with you.

You [06:01]

Barely.

[dave-meowstaine]

All those mf asks yo

👌Finally getting round to doing these, sorry it took a while!

1: How tall or short do you wish you were? - I’m happy with my height. I’m around 6ft

2: What’s your dream pet? (Real or not) - I would love a dragon or a grisly bear

3: Do you have a favorite clothing style? - I love all of my hoodies. I also love my Dave Mustine shirt and my really edgy shirt, both bought for me by Lizzie

4: What was your favorite video game growing up? - Diablo 2 is my favourite game of all time

5: What three things/people do you think of most each day - Lizzie, college work, and Everquest to be honest

6: If you had a warning label, what would yours say? - Warning: Too clingy and over emotional lol

7: What is your opinion on [insert person/thing here]? - Ooh that’s my favourite thing haha

8: What is your Greek personality type? [Sanguine, Phlegmatic, Choleric, or Melancholic] - I have no idea

9: Are you ticklish? - No where near as ticklish as when I was younger, but yeah I am still ticklish

10: Are you allergic to anything? - I get hay fever and I found out I’m allergic to my cat’s fur (doesn’t stop me from cuddling her though, I just end up sneezing a lot and having very itchy/watery eyes haha 

11: What’s your sexuality? - Never really know, to be honest. I like anyone I like, whether that’s a boy, girl, or whatever you identify as

12: Do you prefer tea, coffee, or cocoa? - Definitely tea. I must drink at least 5 mugs of tea a day haha

13: Are you a cat or dog person? - I’ve lived my entire life with cats, but I love my dog to pieces. It’s impossible to choose one over the other

14: Would you rather be a vampire, elf, or merperson? - Probably an elf. I’m not a huge fan of the water and although I’m basically nocturnal (thanks, Lizzie ;) ), I would miss the daytime if I was a vampire. Plus everything is shut at night

15: Do you have a favorite Youtuber? - I used to but not anymore. I do have a couple of channels I regularly check, such as Funhaus

16: How tall are you? - I’m around 6ft

17: If you had to change your name, what would you change it to? - Most people get my name wrong and call me Taylor so I guess if I changed it to Taylor at least people would get my name right haha

18: How much do you weigh? [Only ask this if you know the user doesn’t mind!] - Eh I’m about 9 stone. I know, I’m light as fuck. Trying hard to gain weight, though

19: Do you believe in ghosts/spirits? - To an extent

20: Do you like space or the ocean more? - Definitely space. I long to explore the stars and the galaxies…

21: Are you religious? - Nope

22: Pet peeves? - People being rude

23: Would you rather be nocturnal or diurnal [opposite of nocturnal]? - Probably diurnal. I love the night time, but more things happen in the day

24: Favorite constellation? - Don’t have one

25: Favorite star? - Don’t have one

26: Do you like ball-jointed dolls? - Eeerrrr I guess?

27: Any phobias or fears? - Don’t like clowns, height, or the water

28: Do you think global warming is real? - Of course it is

29: Do you believe in reincarnation? - I think it would be pretty cool

30: Favorite movie? - John Carpenter’s The Thing

31: Do you get scared easily? - Not really. I have my moments, though

32: How many pets have you own in your lifetime? - 4 cats, 1 dog, 2 fish, 4 guinea pigs, 3 chickens, and 1 hamster

33: Blog rate? [You’ll rate the blog of the one who’s asking.] - You’re on anon so no can do haha

34: What is a color that calms you? - I love red or purple

35: Where would you like to travel and/or live? - I like the area I live in now, to be honest. I know most people can’t wait to get away from where they grew up, but I think Malmesbury would be a lovely place to settle down, have a family, etc.

36: Where were you born? - I was born in South East London

37: What is your eye color? - Grey/blue 

38: Introvert or extrovert? - Ambivert

39: Do you believe in horoscopes and zodiacs? - I do

40: Hugs or kisses? - Depends who it is. If it’s Lizzie, then kisses. Otherwise hugs

41: Who is someone you would like to see/visit right now? - Lizzie, obviously

42: Who is someone you love deeply? - Lizzie, obviously

43: Any piercings you want? - I don’t know if I want anymore piercings 

44: Do you like tattoos and piercings? - I love them

45: Do you smoke or have you ever done so? - Yeah, I smoke

46: Talk about your crush, if you have one! - Lizzie!

47: What is a sound you really hate? - The fucking disconnecting sounds on Facebook or Whatsapp calls

48: A sound you really love? - Lizzie’s voice

49: Can you do a backflip? - Nope

50: Can you do the splits? - Nope

51: Favorite actor and/or actress? - KEANU REEVES 

52: Favorite movie? - John Carpenter’s The Thing

53: How are you feeling right now? - Eh I’m alright. Want to be with Lizzie

54: What color would you like your hair to be right now? - I’m happy with my natural colour

55: When did you feel happiest? - When I’m with Lizzie

56: Something that calms you down? - Lizzie

57: Have any mental disorders? [Only ask this if you know the user doesn’t mind!] - I have anxiety and depression

58: What does your URL mean? - Dave Mustaine as a cute cat

59: What three words describe you the most? - Kind, loyal, asshole haha

60: Do you believe in evolution? - Obviously

61: What makes you unfollow a blog? - If they never post anymore or their theme changes to something I’m not interested in

62: What makes you follow a blog? - To be honest, I never follow any new blogs anymore

63: Favorite kind of person - Kind, caring, sensitive, funny, doesn’t take life too seriously

64: Favorite animal(s) - Chimps and sharks

65: Name three of your favorite blogs. - I don’t have any favourite blogs

66: Favorite emoticon - 👌

67: Favorite meme - DO YOU KNOW DE WAE

68: What is your MBTI personality type? - INFP

69: What is your star sign? - Libra

70: Can your dog roll over on command, if you have a dog? - Nope

71: What outfit out of all your clothes do you like to wear the most? - I don’t have any specific outfits, just throw on whatever suits the occasion

72: Post a selfie or two? - Look at my /tagged/me

73: Do you have platform shoes? - Nope, unless my DMs count

74: What is one random but interesting fact about yourself? - No idea

75: Can you do a front flip? - I used to be able to on a trampoline, dunno if I still could. Probably could, if I tried

76: Do you like birds? - Of course!

77: Do you like to swim? - If it’s leisurely swimming, then yea

78: Is swimming or ice skating more fun to you? - Ice skating

79: Something you wish didn’t exist - There are many things I wish didn’t exist

80: Some thing you wish did exist - Dragons, as long as they didn’t fuck everything up

81: Piercings you have? - Septum and three in my left earlobe

82: Something you really enjoy doing - Spending time with Lizzie

83: Favorite person to talk to - Lizzie

84: What was your first impression of Tumblr? - Thought it was really cool

85: How many followers do you have? - Currently at 1990

86: Can you run a mile within ten minutes? - I’ve done it before, yeah

87: Do your socks always match? - Yeah

88: Can you touch your toes and keep your legs straight completely? - After limbering up, yeah

89: What are your birthstones? - Sapphire

90: If you were an animal, which one would you be? - Probably a chimp

91: If a flower could aesthetically represent you, what kind would it be? - Maybe a rose? I really don’t know haha

92: A store you hate? - None that I hate

93: How many cups of coffee can you drink in one day? - Never drink coffee so none haha

94: Would you rather be able to fly or read minds? - Definitely fly

95: Do you like to wear camo? - Sure

96: Winter or summer? - Winter, to be honest

97: How long can you hold your breath for? - I don’t know, I think I got to two minutes before, maybe more

98: Least favorite person? - Don’t know

99: Someone you look up to - Don’t know

100: A store you love? - There’s a retro video game store in a town near me that I love, although all of their stuff is really expensive

101: Favorite type of shoes - Converses or Doc Martens

102: Where do you live? - I live in a town called Malmesbury

103: Are you a vegetarian or vegan? If so, why? - Nope, used to be but I need to put on as much weight as possible

104: What is your favorite mineral or gem? - Don’t really have one

105: Do you drink milk? - I do 

106: Do you like bugs? - Yeah

107: Do you like spiders? - I love them

108: Something you get paranoid about? - I get anxious about a lot of personal stuff going on at the moment

109: Can you draw - Hell no haha

110: Nosiest question you have ever been asked? - No idea

111: A question you hate being asked? - No idea

112: Ever been bitten by a spider? - Nope

113: Do you like the sound of waves at the beach? - I love them

114: Do you prefer cloudy or sunny days? - Cloudy if it’s still warm, otherwise I guess sunny

115: Someone you’d like to kiss or cuddle right now - LIZZIE 

116: Favorite cloud type - The big ones?? lol

117: What color do you wish the sky was? - I like blue

118: Do you have freckles? - Nope

119: Favorite thing about a person - Don’t have one

120: Fruits or vegetables? - Fruit

121: Something you want to do right now - Be with Lizzie

122: Is the ocean or sky prettier? - I would say the sky

123: Sweet or sour foods? - Definitely sweet

124: Bright or dim lights? - Dim lights

125: Do you believe in a certain magical creature? - Not that I can think of

126: Something you hate about Tumblr - Basically everything now haha

127: Something you love about Tumblr - I met my girlfriend on here so…

128: What do you think about the least? - I don’t know, I don’t think about it haha

129: What would you want written on your tombstone? - Just put the 👌 emoji on there and be done with it haha

130: Who would you like to punch in the face right now? - Too tired to punch anyone right now

131: What is something you love but also hate about yourself? - Everything??

132: Do you smile with your teeth showing for pictures? - Nope

133: Computer or TV? - Computer

134: Do you like roller coasters? - Love them

135: Do you get motion sickness or seasickness? - Motion sickness yeah, but not seasickness 

136: Are your ears lobed or attached? - Lobed

137: Do you believe in karma? - Definitely

138: On a scale of 1-10, how attractive would you say you are? - Definitely 10  ;)

139: What nicknames do you have/have had? - Big T and Tyrone are the only two that come to mind

140: Did you have any pretend or imaginary friends? - Didn’t everyone as younger children?

141: Have you ever seen a therapist/shrink? - Many haha

142: Would you say you are a good or bad influence to others? - I hope good

143: Do you prefer giving or receiving gifts/help? - Ehh I like both

144: What makes you angry - A lot of things

145: How many languages do you speak fluently? - Only English, but I need to learn Spanish

146: Do you prefer boys, girls, and/or non-binaries? - Don’t have a preference  

147: Are you androgynous? - No

148: Favorite physical thing about yourself - Everything

149: Favorite thing about your personality - Everything

150: Name three people you would like to talk to right now in person. - Lizzie, Dom, and Ed

151: If you could go back into time and live in one era, which would you choose? - I like the present day

152: Do you like BuzzFeed? - Not really

153: How did you meet your spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner? [If you have one.] - Through Tumblr. Turns out she’s been following me for about 3 years but never thought anything of it. Then we started talking and yeah

154: Do you like to kiss others’ foreheads or hands for platonic reasons? - I don’t kiss people platonically 

155: Do you like to play with others’ hair? - I love playing with Lizzie’s hair

156: What embarrasses you? - Not much

157: Something that makes you nervous/anxious - A lot of personal stuff

158: Biggest lie you have ever told - No idea

159: How many people are you following? - Only 98 people

160: How many posts do you have on your blog(s)? - 72,845

161: How many drafts do you have on your blog(s)? - None

162: How many likes do you have on your blog(s)? - 2,380

163: Last time you cried and why - I can’t remember

164: Do you have long or short hair? - Short, but I’m growing it out

165: Longest your hair has ever been - About half way down my back

166: Why do you like, dislike, or have neutral feelings about religon? - This is a whole other debate

167: Do you really care how the universe and world was created? - I would love to know, yeah

168: Do you like to wear makeup? - Nah

169: Can you stand on your hands or head for more than thirty seconds? - I used to be able to, dunno if I still could

170: Did you answer the questions you were asked truthfully? - I did

Thank you! :)

[lukeysgirl]

The Note Tree ❋ L.H. Pt.2

Part T W O 

Summary: A cherry blossom tree, residing at the farthest part of the schools courtyard. Nobody dwelled there, and you didn’t care much for it. Until you kept hearing one song played over and over, with lyrics changed to touch at your curiosity. They knew you were listening, and one day you gave in and made your way to the pink tree. Waiting for you, a series of notes tied to a single strand of string.

Word Count: 2.5k+

AN: yay, next part! im hoping to make this series as intriguing as possible, so please do bear with me! i know it’s starting pretty slow, but i wanna develop this story well enough for your lovely minds! please do get it at 100 notes please, as it delays the quickness of releasing parts xx please enjoy this one ! 

Parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.

I M A G I N E 

Tuesday

“Y/N!” You felt defeated, listening as Savannah exclaimed words to you at the lick of 8 A.M. The two of you resided in the library, as first period was typically a literacy hour for seniors. The library was like Belle’s fairy tale, the entirety of it coming straight out of Beast’s castle. The entire library was circular, with 2 floors worth of dark oak shelves of books. In the center of it all, first floor, resided the desk where the librarians sat with boredom. There were students already ornate inside, keeping quite with several works of literature sprawled along the rectangular desks provided. 

“It’s too fucking early,” you muttered, keeping in mind to be quiet as you were in the library. Every Tuesday morning, you took up the job of getting the books left to collect dust on the desks and place them back in their appropriate shelf. “Can’t be bothered to talk about this right now.” 

“Des said there were no notes on that tree yesterday!” Savannah began, repeating yesterdays ‘eventful’ news to you. “This is specifically for you!” A librarian suddenly appeared at one of the aisles of shelves and shushed Savannah. She sheepishly muttered an apology before trailing you once more. 

“Or maybe we got the wrong timing of the song,” you mumbled, spewing out a possibility. You didn’t admit you were right about it anyways. 

“I thought you said it wasn’t a hard song to decipher,” Savannah mocked. You rolled your eyes, rolling the cart of books as you parked it by another table. You began gathering the books sprawled on them, checking the checkouts before placing them on the cart. “Y/N, you’re the one to receive those notes.” 

“Oh no, how tragic,” you sarcastically mumbled, reading the checkout of a book to see the dates. You placed it on the developing stack of books you were creating. “This stalker should’ve chosen someone who actually gives a shit.” 

“Secret admirer,” Savannah corrected. “Also, he probably didn’t have a choice. He probably fell for you without even trying, Y/N. It must be his destiny to chase you.” You sighed, leaning across the desk to ask a seated kid if he was reading the book that was just sat there. He nodded no, having you nod before grabbing the book. 

“Man, you won’t let up,” you groaned, pushing the cart towards the CD area of the library. Although it’s only a series of book audios and music, people tend to leave books on the desks as well. “How about go be useful and find the other two? They’re probably on the second floor.” Savannah nodded, rushing away from you as her skirt danced from the sudden velocity. 

Relief washed over you as you slowly entered the section. You found several students with headphones plugged into CD or cassette players. You tried your best not to distract them as you found books just spread all over vacant tables. You checked out 7 of them before firmly placing them on your cart. You then saw one book that caught your attention. 

Everything, Everything. 

It was currently one of your favorite books. The entirety of the story sent goosebumps all around your arms every time. You loved the way the author captured love between a boy who was outside by choice and a girl who was sheltered in by force. And the fact of the matter was that you were going to read it again. 

You opened up the book to the very first page, just for your breath to be taken away. 

The entirety of it was covered by white post-it notes. With each one, there was part of a whole drawing made with what looked like paint. You held the book up and a bit far from you to widen your eyes even more. It was a cherry tree, one of the richest hues of pinks and browns. You didn’t know what to say or think, looking around to see anyone suspicious. But there was no such face. 

Checking the checkout paper of the book, you saw that it was as well covered in a white post-it note. And it read: Why won’t you come to the tree, Y/N?

You blinked, removing the note real quick to stuff it in your pocket. You looked around once more before turning the page of the book. You flipped through the rest of them, seeing slivers of white on the first 10 pages before returning to the one you stopped at. 

Before anything, I just wanna admit how grateful I am that you opened the book. 

Turn page. 

I love this book, and I hope I don’t sound too insane, but I wish we were them. 

Turn page. 

Olly can freely be outside whereas Maddy was forced to be inside. 

Turn page. 

But for us, it’s the twisted opposite. 

Turn page. 

You choose to shelter yourself away from others while I’m stuck on the outside, desperate for an entrance. 

Turn page. 

I just want to dive into you, Y/N. 

Turn page.

I want to see you at your most embarrassed moments. 

Turn page. 

I want to listen to you sing when you listen to your favorite band. 

Turn page. 

I want to see you dance while cleaning up your room. 

Turn page. 

I want you to become my everything, everything. 

You quickly removed the notes from the book, cautiously putting them in order as you stuffed them into your pocket. You didn’t even know what to think. But it was obvious this boy has had his eyes on you for a long while. He must be a stalker-- knowing what books you like, knowing when you steal insignificant items. 

As you continued your book checking, you began gathering several aspects of this case to get closer to knowing who this person was. It was obvious that this person had to be in your year, seeing as you barely interacted with the lower grades, let alone anybody else in your class other than your best friends. This person also is musically talented, seeing as he wrote a song and plays guitar. He also must have a fairly fluent schedule to be tying notes to a tree fairly far away. Also being able to sing that song during your English class provokes some curiosity. 

Fuck, you thought as you slammed a book closed. Why am I thinking about this so much? I don’t care! You huffed your way through your library job, just on time to go to your next class. 

“Y/N, he’s asking you to be his everything, everything!” Savannah whispered cheerily, having you groan as you dragged your eyes left to right on your text book. History had been the only class you shared with all the girls, having it be the hardest class to focus on due to their hyperactive energy as a whole. “How can you not go insane over this?” 

You rolled your eyes, glancing up from your read to see Savannah’s ecstatic face before you. You 4 had always put your desks together, having you be in front of Savannah, next to Alexis, and diagonal to Des. You looked up at Savannah, seeing as her blonde hair danced down until the tips had touched her desk. 

“He’s some creepy stalker, Sav,” you whispered, diverting your eyes back down to the page. “I don’t care for stalkers.” 

“So then you won’t go to the tree because you’re scared?” Alexis dared to test, having you look up and blink at her once. “Someone who wants to break through to your shell?” 

“Alexis, fear is a social construct,” you began quietly, turning the page to the topic of World War II. Some of your black nail polished chipped on the page. “Anyways, they obviously don’t know what they’re getting into.” 

“They do if they’ve accepted the challenge,” Alexis began, having you feel your heart skip one beat. “You just have to close the books and take the chance.” 

It was absurd in your head. The idea of someone attempting to approach you. The brainiac of the year, the girl who cares more for literature than love. It’s not like you asked to be an overachiever anyways. Many people misunderstand you, hence why your friend group is handpicked wisely. 

“This boy won’t like me once he sees my colors,” you spoke briefly, turning another page. Des was quick to look at you and grab your hand, feeling how smooth it was. She smelled of coconuts today, probably from that new Chanel perfume Savannah had bought her. 

“You’ll never know if you keep him in the black and white, Y/N,” Odessa said calmly. You were hesitant, but looked up from the textbook to see your friend. She had a soft expression, giving you a reassuring smile. “He wants to mean something to you, more than these black and white books.” 

“How do I know he’d want my colors then?” You asked her, pure curiosity dawning you. 

“Because,” Des began, her smile much wide now to reveal her clean, white teeth. “You must’ve been a different shade he’s never seen before.” 

Today’s lyrics were ‘be my everything, everything.’ 

The song was especially provoking your mind today as you entered your Anatomy class. Luke, of course, wasn’t present just yet. So you took it to yourself to open your notebook and stick all your notes onto the last page of it. You didn’t want it to crumple anywhere, so surely your notebook was the best idea. 

“Why does he want someone like me?” You whispered to yourself, forgetting that you were now in a loud, but crowded, classroom. 

“Why does who want someone like you?” You blinked a few times before tilting your head slightly up. You were taken aback to find Luke’s face just a few inches from yours. His elbows planted on the table, with his hands used to keep that stupid head up. But his eyes were consuming you in a trance you didn’t ask for. 

“How about putting that curiosity into anatomy, Luke?” You scoffed, looking to see a substitute take a seat at Ms. Lee’s desk. You were already disappointed, frowning at the obviously nervous substitute as you rose from your seat. 

“My priorities are ordered differently than what you’d like, Y/N, sorry,” Luke said, zero sympathy on his tongue as he trailed you. You walked over to the desk without a word, picked up the assignment stack and began to hand them out. “So anyways, someone likes you?” 

“It’s none of your business, Hemmings,” you began, quieting down to give him the cue to lower his voice as well. 

“Why do you choose to be so cold like this?” Luke asked in a hush tone as you handed out the work to a duo table. You glanced over at him, seeing his lanky figure bend to meet his head with yours. His hands were stuffed him those skinny jeans pockets as he trailed you. You also notice pairs of eyes now watching you due to the blonde boy’s presence around you. 

“It’s not that I choose to be cold or am cold anyways,” you said quietly while hanging out more of the papers. “I’m just not focused on that sorta stuff right now.” 

“What, love?” Luke announced ponderously. You choked. Halting, you look over at Luke and give him a good stare. His eyebrows were a little tilted, but going upward towards the middle of the two. His ocean eyes glowed, but there was a dullness in it that was obvious. As of recently, you could tell that they no longer shine like they used to. Attending school with him for a good 3 years made you awful familiar with his expressions and change of mood. 

“I wouldn’t call it love at all,” you began with a shrug, looking away as you entered the other aisle of tables. “It’s just a small, stupid crush out of pure boredom, I’m sure.” 

“How do you know how another person feels about you?” Luke began. “I mean, it’s their feelings, not yours. So how do you know the level of how much they care about you?” 

“For once thing, they’re a secret admirer, therefore a stalker too shy to confront me,” you muttered quietly. “So they obviously don’t care as much if they’re just hiding their identity. Probably for their own little cruel joke or something.” 

“Or maybe they love you too much to reveal themselves to you,” Luke suggested. You looked over at the blonde boy, seeing as he was distantly looking down at the beige tiles. His bottom lip was pushed out, shiny with a layer of Blistex smacked on it. “They don’t want to disappoint you, maybe, with who they are.” 

You studied Luke for a good moment. His ocean eyes were now soft, no longer stern or really curious. They were wandering off, probably lost in some sort of thought. His face was just staring wistfully to the ground, like his very own words caught him speechless. And, you could admit it to yourself, too: his words were of pure sentiment. 

“Hemmings,” you began as you handed the final sheets of paper to the shared table of you and Luke’s. “D’you reckon you can do me a favor?” 

“What does it consist of?” Luke asked as he took a seat beside you. You looked down at the sheet of paper, focused on it fairly well while holding the conversation you began with Luke. He began tapping the table with the tips of his rough fingers. 

“So my secret admirer/stalker happens to be musically inclined,” you began, having his tapping stop as he studied you intensely. “And I don’t know shit about lyric meaning too well, so I was wondering if you could... um...” 

“...Figure out the meaning for you?” Luke finished, having you nod as you began filling out the sheet. You grabbed the note with the lyrics from your notebook (credits to Des, of course) and handed it over to Luke. You explained to him what you had so far, noticing his attentiveness with nods and ‘mm.’ You gave him most of the period to read it, allowing you to finish the work as he did. 

“So did we go wrong anywhere, or?” You asked, having Luke begin to open his mouth to utter words, But before he could, the dismissal bell rang as all the students, including the sub, flooded out of the room. As you packed your things, Luke was quick to place his hand on top of yours to stop you, feeling the mountains of arid callouses of his hand. 

“Wait up for a few minutes?” Luke suggested, having you reluctantly nod as all your classmates poured out of the classroom. As you zipped your book bag closed, you noticed Luke swiftly go to the door and close it. He even taped a piece of paper over the small glass window of the door. 

“You could tell me tomorrow, you know,” you said simply, taking a seat on the table rather than the chair as he slowly walked up to you. Luke grinned, taking a seat beside you on the desk. 

“I would, but I know you wouldn’t want to use any more energy on me within the span of 2 days,” Luke began. “So I might as well get this over with so you can be done speaking with me.” 

“O-oh, yeah...” You stuttered. Although you didn’t care for Luke Hemmings and his wild antics, you couldn’t help but falter from his words. You knew how careless you were, but you didn’t realize you let off such a cold aura. 

“Anyways, this guy probably wants you to leave right at the beginning to lunch,” Luke began, having you frown in confusion as you watched his blue eyes study the sticky note. “Eat before three could be eat but not at lunch, considering how long it takes to go to the tree then back to the school.”

“How did you get that conclusion from just 3 words?” You asked, pure curiosity rolling off your tongue as you stared at the perfectly chiseled jawline of the boy. You watched as he let out a simple sigh, his rose lips slightly parted to breathe calmly. 

“It’s only a guess, just like yours,” Luke said simply. He handed the note back to you without meeting your eyes. He stuffed his hands back in his pockets as you shoved the note in your pocket. “You’ll never know until you try.” 

“What if my attempts prove to be vain?” You said quietly, watching as Luke stood from the desk and slowly began for the door. His curls danced with his movements with ease, shining a dirty yellow from the after school sun. He freed one of his hands to let sit on the shiny, gold doorknob. But he stood there, with a smile forming on his lips. 

“Then remind yourself of August,” Luke said quietly, looking over to give you a soft gaze. “Let me know how it goes if you go to the tree.” And with that, Luke Hemmings had escaped through the door, ripping the paper off of the window before he took his exit. 

“Popular schmaltz,” you murmured, holding your face with one hand as you felt blood surge right up your cheeks. 

please do give me any sort of feedback or reactions right here and ill see ya the next part x