#despite the title this is actually an upbeat drabble.

[cloudbattrolls]

Blood in the Cut

Gliese Benral | Present Night

Gliese gritted her teeth as she walked through the forest. The weather was nice; cool with just a hint of humidity, and she could hear the distant sounds of construction. A few bugs zipped through the air.

“You always know when I’m close.” She muttered. “Somehow.”

“Not every time.”

Came the voice she’d expected from behind her, but she still jumped a little as she turned to see the false maroon.

“Yeah, okay!” She said with a bark of laughter. It merely tilted its head, expression neutral.

She sucked in a breath. 

“Anyway. I guess…as much as I hate it…I have to admit you were right. I shouldn’t have seen Quilis then.” She said with a grimace.

It nodded.

“It was not personal. I would have turned away anyone who came.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Poor Quil…she’s really not the best at standing up for herself or saying no. Girl could use a moirail, or an ashmate, or something.” She said with a shake of her head. “Trouble is finding someone in her age range.”

It nodded again. God, it felt weird to be agreeing with it.

“Anyway.” She said, coming up to it and poking its shoulder. “I wanna fight you.”

It blinked.

“All right.”

She snort-laughed.

“Wow, that was easy. And Quil was so disapproving.” She said with a smirk.

“Not here, though.” It said. “I don’t want to damage the forest.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Damn, just how wild do you get? Nah, don’t tell me, I wanna see for myself.”

“Do you know a good place?” It said. “It can’t be anywhere too close to anyone else. I don’t want to be seen by another troll, if possible.”

Her eyebrows raised, if possible, even higher. 

“Yeah, we can fight in my hedge maze - well, the part of it that burned down a while ago. I still haven’t gotten to regrowing that yet. But if you slice up some of the other bushes it’s okay. I was thinking of remodeling the whole thing anyway.”

It nodded. “That works.”

“My signmate might see you, though.”

It thought about that, hand to one cheek. “As long as there’s some cover.”

“Great, time’s a-wasting, let’s go.”

She walked back to her waiting lusus, not bothering to turn around and see if Eileit was following, then jumped on the hare’s back, looked around, and -

-hey, where did it go.

She shrugged. Either it had lied to her or it hadn’t, and it seemed to be able to hide and reappear really easily for whatever reason.

She made her way back to the burned-out part of her maze, several dozen square feet of bare earth between the green hedges bordering it. Sure enough, a minute or so after she arrived and got off her lusus…

…there it was when she turned around, looking at everything with interest.

She shook her head in wonder.

“Man, what the fuck are you.”

It either didn’t hear her (doubtful), or it didn’t want to answer, much more interested in chasing a grasshopper it had found. Haredad watched it a moment, then retreated so that he was away from the fight. 

Gliese smirked. Well, if it wanted to be caught off guard…

The blueblood took out her scythe and ran for it.

It leapt into the air, spreading great metallic wings that hadn’t been there a few moments ago. Gliese switched to her gun, aiming at the bladelike ‘feathers’ as it dodged and flipped, evading most of her shots. The few that did hit didn’t do much damage; they warped a few feathers, but it seemed unbothered.

She whooped in the joy of a challenge, and it dove for her - she took out her scythe and jabbed it directly through the neck as she ducked just in time.

Red liquid leaked out, but not nearly at the rate a troll’s blood would, nor did it seem to bother the creature. It splashed to the ground and on her, and the hare troll grinned in excitement as her foe wheeled away and she swapped out her flamethrower instead, waiting for Eileit to get close enough for a good blast.

Which of course is when it disappeared.

“Oh, you bitch.” She said, mildly annoyed but mostly fascinated. It had just sort of…shimmered out of existence.

The rush of air as it flew by again was just enough to warn her to duck, but she knew as soon as she fired that she’d missed it.

Then she found herself picked up and carried into the air, cold wind streaming past her ears and face and making her eyes weep as it held her firmly, visible once more. Its wingbeats were steady and quieter than they should’ve been, she realized - how?

The gash on its neck was open…but there was no real flesh beneath it, no veins or muscle. Just…synthetic gray stuff she recognized from her fleet training, structures that were model-perfect but nonfunctional. It was creepy as hell, but also fascinating.

Gliese put her flamethrower away and took out a knife instead, jabbing at Eileit’s eye.

It let the hit happen, and simply looked at her a moment before pulling the knife out of its face with its free hand and putting it away. The eye had lost its light, cracked like a screen, but began repairing itself as she watched. Creating small metallic and crystalline lines of…cells? It couldn’t be, could it?

“Not smart, Gliese, what if I dropped you?”

“I have skeletons to catch me.” She said smugly. “Besides. I can tell you’re waaaay holding back. You won’t drop me.”

It shook her gently. She let her head bob around for the gag.

“Ah, uh oh, my thinkpan, it’s dying. Medic.”

It snorted. “I think we’re done for now.”

“What, nooo.” She whined. “This is fun.” 

The blueblood wiped her eyes, because damn the wind was getting to her - aaaand down they went, Eileit gently depositing her on the ground as its wings folded back up and disappeared. Somehow it had manifested them over its clothes, as far as she could tell.

“Why didn’t you use your magic?” It asked, now a few feet away from her.

“Why didn’t you go all out?” The mage said in return. “I was testing the waters. Plus, it’s a bad idea to get too reliant on the stuff. I coped without magic for sweeps, I don’t want it making me sloppy.”

It nodded.

“If I went all out it would kill you.” It said bluntly. “As you can tell, I was designed for combat.”

“No you weren’t.” Gliese retorted, point-blank. “I dunno what exactly you were made for, but it wasn’t that, though yeah, I can tell you’re no slouch. You don’t act like a real killbot. 

Your tactics are more diversionary, meant to isolate and capture, geared toward concealing you. You could’ve had me instantly and you chose to let me fight. You could’ve restrained me with both arms or had a blade to my throat. You could’ve snuck up on me from the first go. 

I don’t believe you don’t know how to do those things; I think you intentionally chose not to.”

It was silent for a few moments. “Quite the theory.” It said.

She grinned. “I know you won’t tell me anything. But I know this shit, I’m ex-fleet. Fuck those bastards, but I did learn some things there.”

It turned away.

“Why did you leave?” It asked.

“Cause fuck ‘em.” She said bluntly. “I was conscripted, I tried to cope and make the best of it, but…it sucks. It all fucking sucks, for everyone who’s part of it. Lowbloods most of all, but all of us. Every single blood color shoved into that miserable fucking machine.”

She paused.

“Uh. No offense.”

It laughed, sharp and amused as it turned back to face her.

“None taken.” It said, sounding genuine if deeply entertained.

“Wow, good, cause I was about to feel like, robot casteist.” She deadpanned. “You’re not a robot, though, are you?”

“No.” It agreed.

“Not gonna tell me what you really are, are you?”

“No.” It said again, amused. “I haven’t even told Quilis, not that they’ve asked. It’s safer that way, for me and everyone else.”

“Ah, so you aren’t imperial, huh. And they don’t know about you.”

It went silent. The pause stretched as its expression became unreadable.

“Please keep that to yourself.” It said softly. “If you do nothing else, please keep that to yourself.”

“Ah, another secret for our pile. Yeah, don’t sweat it.” She said, patting its shoulder. “You aren’t so bad, huh? Funny freaky toaster.”

It made a ding noise as a real toaster oven would and Gliese cracked up.

“That is hysterical.” She said, between fits of laughter. “Holy shit, how many noises can you do? No, wait - can you like, mimic voices?”

“Can you like, mimic voices?” It said back to her, the imitation of the necromancer’s tones nearly perfect.

She clapped her hands. “Oh, we are going to pull so many pranks. You, me, bothering people. You cannot tell me that wouldn’t be fun.”

“I’ll help you with a prank if you tell me something I’d like to know.” It said, placid.

“Yeah, sure, what is it?”

“Where can I get real maple and marshmallow flavoring?”

She blinked.

“You don’t eat, do you?”

It shook its head.

“No. It’s for a friend. They make candies.”

She grinned. “Aw, that’s sweet. Literally.”

It looked at her, and she raised her hands in defeat. “Hey, my moirail likes puns, bad humor’s contagious.”

“I have died. Badly.” It deadpanned. “Cause of death: being pun-ished.”

The blueblood put a hand to her chest in mock agony. “Oooh, that hurt. You and Nan can never meet, I’d wind up stabbing myself in the eye.”

“Objective acquired: meet Nan.”

She squinted at it.

“Okay, now you’re just fucking with me.”

“Data not found.”

The hare troll pushed the false maroon, who toppled over rigidly for the bit and played a cartoon coconut thunk noise, and it took a while before Gliese stopped laughing.

[alexiethymia]

regarding erina

title: regarding erina

after the blue, mana and souma have a conversation

ooo

“That was quite a marvelous dish, but I don’t know if I should be insulted by the fact that you weren’t trying to win.”

If Souma was surprised to be addressed so suddenly by the famed mythical Bookmaster of the WGO, he didn’t show it. Nakiri’s kaa-chan was a lot like her, or was it that Nakiri was a a lot like her kaa-chan? Point is, they had this imperious air about them that just demanded servility, or expected it even. He smirked before what she said caught up to him.

“Hey! I was going there guns blazing and in it to win it.” There was Yukihira’s at stake after all. To Souma’s mind, his plan was fool-proof. Shake Nakiri out of this weird funk she was in with a dish so delicious that he’d have complete victory over her. There was no way he was going to win if she was like that, looking so subdued and helpless. That wasn’t Nakiri at all. That wasn’t the goal nor the shrine he was working towards all this time. 

She was Nakiri Erina with as much fire in her as ice, and it wouldn’t be them if she wasn’t acting all high-and-mighty and insulting him every step of the way, equal parts laughing and angry. Anything was fine as long as she was no longer crying.

Mana raised one finely groomed eyebrow at that. “Oh? So you completely disregarded the customer you were supposed to serve and the order given to you in order to cook something for your opponent, and you still wanted to win? My, my, now who’s being greedy now?” Mana couldn’t help but be amused at the boyish look of indignation of the young chef in front of her. 

Truth be told, Mana doesn’t know what to expect from this Yukihira Souma. It’s just that as soon as she tasted his dish (and she’d say he was rude for serving Erina before her, the actual judge, but she doubts he’d care) she was able to see his personal flavor and through that know more about him than she’d otherwise have. 

Yes, she could taste that overwhelming desire to win, but it wasn’t because of The BLUE, or her as the Bookmaster, but purely and entirely because it was Erina he was facing. It was a unique dish in that she didn’t get to just know him, but also got to know Erina through the dish he presented - their whole history leading up to that point. Despite it not being Erina who cooked the dish, it felt like she was there to see her during those moments Mana was not present in her life and it crushed her with the overwhelming gift and guilt of it. 

If Erina’s dish was purely the mother she missed, then the face that came to mind when she was eating Yukihira’s Souma’s Queen’s Eggs Benedict was Erina’s, her sweet daughter’s. A dish that was created with the force of emotion and pure hearted desire for the sake of one person, and coming from a chef so young, Mana wonders if the boy in front of her even realizes what he had done and the implications of it.

“I couldn’t help but notice. During the regiment de cuisine, if I recall correctly, Erina cooked an improved version of what you served her during your entrance exam. So is that what this was then - a way to get the better of her?” Mana is genuinely curious but then the boy suddenly smirks. 

“So you have been keeping tabs on her.”

Mana, there is no other word for it, sputters,”It is my duty as one of the heads of the culinary world to keep abreast of the events surrounding promising chefs, and Erina is among those chefs, if not the most promising.”

To Souma, it just sounds like she’s bragging about her daughter but he guesses most moms are just like that. “Yeah, yeah. You really are parent and child. The both of you should just be more honest with each other.” 

Mana wants to remain indignant, but something in Yukihira’s tone softens her. “You should say whatever you want to each other while you still can. After all you don’t know what will happen in the future.” She guess it’s an uncharacteristic state for him to be in, because he continues upbeat, “And if you can’t say it with words, there’s always food.”

She wonder if that’s how the two of them have been communicating, a language all of their own. Not for the first time, she feels a pang of pain at all that she’s missed when it comes to Erina. Perhaps it’s too late to act like a mother now, after all this time. But she still has to ask.

She intended to ask, ‘what are your intentions towards Erina?’, but what comes out instead is, “What do you think about Erina?”

Surprisingly, he seems to be putting some thought into it, with his head in hand, then blurts out, “She’s prideful, and bossy, and is a bit of a snob,” he continues, listing insults on his fingers one by one and Mana starts to feel unsure about all of this, “She drives me crazy and insists she’s better than me even though she’s obviously not. She won’t tell me she likes my food even though she obviously does. She’s angry all the time, and smiles only when she thinks no one is looking. She’s beautiful when she cooks, and even more when she laughs.” “She,” And here after everything he’s said that leaves Mana speechless, here he pauses, “She makes me a better chef and she’s the best chef I’ve met. I want to beat her and make her say ‘delicious’.” He looks relaxed as if finally getting it off of his chest. What surprises Mana the most is how blase and matter-of-factly he says it, as if he didn’t say anything profound and what basically amounts to a - what, exactly? 

Despite this, Mana still has to be sure. She has to be sure she can trust him.

“You are aware though, of the risks of the God Tongue? Are you sure you want to stay by Erina’s side even knowing her possible fate?”

He narrows his eyes slightly at her, but his tone is light, “I’ve already told this to the Headmaster - well former Headmaster, I guess he’d be your father - that the Nakiri history sure sounds complicated, but it has nothing to do with me.”

Mana bristles at that.

“My goal back then hasn’t changed, and nothing now changes what I have to do. I just want her to say ‘It’s delicious’ from that mouth of hers.” He smiles and it’s a bit like the sun at dawn melting snow. “And isn’t that perfect? I just have to keep making dishes that wow her and are worthy of the god tongue. Even if she tastes some awful dishes here and there, she won’t break. And no offense lady, but maybe you shouldn’t underestimate your daughter.” He smirks.

‘She’s stronger than you,’ Mana hears what he doesn’t say out loud and rather than insult her, it incites a full-belly laughter, which confuses the normally unflappable boy.

Maybe it’s just simple-minded naiveté on his part, the confident words of a youth who hadn’t yet experienced the world, but it was his simple straightforwardness that cut through to Erina, and gave her daughter the strength to accomplish the impossible. She wants to trust this boy, the same way Erina trusts him.

“That’s all I wanted to hear, Yukihira Souma. Thank you.” For everything.

part 1 of snapshots in the life of an ice queen and a demon king

a series of interrelated and semi-chronological drabbles on what happens next, because the storm is endless but they don’t have to go through it alone. for nakiri and yukihira-kun what happens next only happens to be the rest of their lives.

next; regrading souma

erina and another slumber party

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Chaos in Coccham

Genre: Fan Fiction (The Last Kingdom) Pairing: Finan/Reader Warnings: N/A Rating: G Length: Drabble Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: My entry for @geekandbooknerd​ 1K CELEBRATION! - Whoo! Congrats! My prompt was  “I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.” 

thank you @gearhead66​ for the header 

The Last Kingdom Master List

Chaos.

Absolute and pure chaos!

The house was upside down and barely hanging on. Toys scattered all over the living room, a sock in the dishwasher, and was that a bucket of sand in the fridge? Uhtred had been gone for the weekend, Friday to Sunday.

Looking at the clock, you rub your hands over your face and sigh. Uhtred would be home before dinner, surely. When he'd left he had made it clear –  behave!

Perhaps that had been a warning to the babysitter. Finan loved his surrogate nephews and niece, in return they loved him. What child wouldn't? Uncle Finan was a giant, bearded, kid himself. Your last straw was finding the sticky note on the fridge, claiming that one of the children had thrown up. Finan had insisted he cleaned the kid, the mess, and thanked his time in college for the help.

Had he been drunk?

Through the window in the kitchen, you hear the commotion. Yelling, laughter, and what sounds like something being hit. A brief glance from the window gives you a view of Finan, surrounded by children. A ball of some sort in his hand, he is gearing up to throw it at Osbert, the youngest of Uhtred's children.

Swinging with all his might, the boy closes his eyes, and the others cheer when the make shift ball hits the bat. A loud splat sends bits of obliterated apple soaring through the air. Apple lands everywhere. On the side of the house, the ground, even Osbert. Who, despite the mess he is in, cheers loudly and does a victory lap around the others.

“I told you.” Finan shouts with glee. “I told you that you could do it. See!”

A chorus of “great job!” and “Way to go Os!” follows Finan.

“Alright, little man, are you ready?” Finan shouts and points at a forth child.

Before any more apples can be thrown, you step through the screen door. Everybody wrapped up in their game, nobody took the time to notice you looming.

“Finan.” Your voice rings through the yard.

Heads snap and Osbert even gasps. As if they had saw a ghost or another sort of daunting monster, the gang freezes.

“My love, my heart. What a lovely surprise.” Finan is grinning like a mad man. A bushel of rotting apples by his feet. His beard covered in bits of apple, his shirt muddy, and his jeans grass stained. He looks as rough as the children around him.

Shaking your head, you roll your eyes. “You're in trouble, Mister.”

“Oohh!” the children mocked, giggling and laughing at their babysitter.

“My love, my heart. Trouble? We're only having a bit of fun.” He tries his best to woo you with his cheeky grin and those big brown eyes.

Ignoring him, you set your sights on his accomplices. “Kids, you all know better than to let Finan run wild.”

“Run wild? I did no such thing.” The Irishman defends his actions.

Ignoring his plight the best you can, you try your best to steady your mood. This was a disaster. Finan meant well, he adored the kids, but sometimes he got a little out of hand. Taking the drunk favourite uncle to a whole new level. When Uhtred had asked his best friend to watch his children, he knew what he was getting into.

“Athelstan, what are you doing here?” Your gaze falls upon the dark haired boy, mud and apple all over him.

“I wanted to come play.”

“Do his parents know he's here?” You look at Finan, hoping he had at least mentioned taking the boy to somebody in his family.

“No clue, but his grandmother knows. She brought him over.” Finan's smile is wide, as he ruffles his little shadow's hair.

“Do you want to play?” Uhtred, the younger version, asks holding out the bat.

Scowling at the teenager, you huff. “No, I don't want to play. What I want is everybody inside and cleaning. Your father is going to be murderous, when he comes home to this.”

Sulking and grumbling, Finan's miniature terror brigade slowly move to your will. Had you made it a game, like Finan, they would have gladly got on board doing whatever you asked. Unfortunate for them, this was business that needed dealt with. If you'd left it to Finan, it would never be completed and Uhtred would never speak to either of you again.

Inside the mood was somber, children filing in, and Finan following you like a lost puppy. He would have gotten around to cleaning, eventually. In his defense, Uhtred had lived in worse. Most of their college years were spent living in absolute chaos and disarray. To think of it, Finan couldn't remember either of them ever cleaning. Perhaps that was the reason Sihtric had always kept his door locked and refused to grant them entrance to his room.

“Uhtred is going to kill you,” Hands on your hips, shaking your head at the destruction. At home, Finan would never allow this to happen. If he did you would be gone and he would be left to pick up more than a mess.

“We'll have it all cleaned up before then.” Finan winks and plants a kiss on your cheek. “Come on gang, time to get dirty.”

“But we were having fun,” Stiorra whines pouting and using her best attempt at puppy dog eyes. It was her no fail, fool proof way of getting whatever she wanted.

“Oh, well, I suppose...” Finan smiled softly at his favourite – not that he would tell the others.

“Finan.” You gently cuff the back of his head. “No wonder this place it a wreck. Did you let them play you like that all weekend?”

Finan gently rubbed the back of his head, frowning. “Not all weekend.”

Unbelievable!

Finan was useless when it came to authority with children.

He was kind with a good heart, fun, and trusting. However he had no control over the younger beings, when they wanted something, he was easily played and every kid who met him somehow sensed that. Fun Uncle Finan was his claim and he adored the title, it meant more to him than anything else. Yes, he could allow the children to get unruly. Yes, he could do better with being the boss. He could even feed them a vegetable or two now and then, but what did any of that matter?

At the end of the day they were alive. Happy. Fed. And couldn't wait to start all over again in the morning. These were the things that made memories. Memories of a happy home and childhood were the things that dictated success. Providing a happy childhood, with their favourite drunk uncle, was worth more than gold to Finan.

House somewhat cleaner than when you'd arrived, dinner on the table, and kids cleaned all in three hours – it was something short of a miracle. Finan finished sweeping up the living room, while you wrangled children to the table. This time there wasn't a piece of pizza, chip, or candy insight. No complaints, either, which greatly amused Finan.

If he'd tried to feed them salad, they would have revolted. Staged a coup and hung him by his underwear.

“Well done my love, my heart.” Finan praises, stashing the broom and dust pan.

“See what being a mindful leader gets you,” You wink and turn to give him a well deserved kiss on the cheek. “You can take control, the kids will still love you.”

“Tell me about it, I love you every day. Despite having my bal-” Wisely he shuts his mouth, when he receives your glare. “I will do better, next time.”

“When this is done, I am taking Athelstan home. Finan, please do the dishes and get the kids in bed before it's too late.”

Armed with your instructions, Finan salutes. “Yes ma'am.”

Dinner finished, it's up to the kids to load the dishwasher and get cleaned up. Allowing Finan to flex his authority skills. Gathering the grubby Athelstan, you listen to Finan as he tries to be demanding. The Irishman really doesn't have it in him to be tough, not with three of his favourite young humans at least.

He'll learn. In time.

You had been telling yourself that for a few years. It was never going to happen. Those children had him right where they wanted him, the only other person they could overpower and outwit that easily was Osferth and he was growing wise to their wicked ways.

Shouting goodbye, you usher Athelstan out the front door. His parents likely have no clue he is missing, his grandmother would have told Finan to let her know when he needed to come home, which would have been forgotten in the chaos and fun.

Chaos and Fun were only two of Finan's greatest qualities. Despite how they drove you mad.

“What do we have here?” Uhtred's voice startles you, the car door shutting with a thud. Taking a look over the messy child, he folds his arms and waits.

“Uhtred,” You greet him with a faint smile, speaking loudly in hopes Finan and the children will hear you through the window.

“How bad is it?” Uhtred sighs. He had no illusions about how big of a mess Finan and his children would make. Seeing you was the indication that there was some hope.

“Not as bad as it was.” You shrug, instructing Athelstan to get in the backseat of your car. “They're just finishing dinner.”

“Alright, well, I should go in and see them. Are you going to wait for Finan?”

“Actually, that is a great idea. Tell him to hurry, I won't wait long.”

Waiting for Finan, you smile at Athelstan in the back seat. He looks like he's been lost in the woods for a week, wandering through mud and muck, as if he'd never met a bath before. Thankful that you were the one who didn't have to clean him.

Looking through the windshield, you frown at the sight of Finan dragging himself from the house. Overnight bag in hand, he had a pout and his eyes are downcast as he walks. His upbeat, eager demeanor is dampened. No doubt Uhtred had given him a quick once over about the responsible adult – again.

“What's wrong?” Your immediate instinct is to ask when he opened the car door.

Finan's brow is creased and his eyes sad.

“I wasn't ready to say goodbye.” Finan let the door shut behind him, sighing heavily. “But that is fine, Uhtred asked if I can come over Wednesday, when he works late.”

@ceridwenofwales​​​​ @pokeasleepingsmaug​​​​ @tiyetiye​​​​ @whenimaunicorn​​​​ @sifshoney​​​​ @goldentailedmermaids​​​​ @joyofbebbanburg​​​​ @laketaj24​​​ @kawennote09​​​ @medievalfangirl​​​ @tephi101​​​  @fandomfic-galore​​​ @therealcalicali​​​ @carlya65​​​ @inforapound​​​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​​​ @captstefanbrandt​​​ @naaladareia​​​ @nxrdist​​​ @wilddrabble​​​ @equalstrashflavoredtrash​​ @ivarlothbroks​ @thewildbeauty​ @ivarinleatherpants​

*If you wish to be added on to/taken off of The Last Kingdom tags, please let me know*

[softfics9]

School Facts 9

Fandom; SF9

Genre; High School AU

Trigger Warnings; Mention of bullying

Rating; G

Word Count; 1,635

Beta’d: No

Cross-Posted; AO3

Author Notes; This is a short drabble I wrote for a writing competition on the SF9 Amino. It gives a backstory for each of the characters before they met when they were in high school. It is set in the same universe as my previous work Post-Its, and so the age grouping of the characters are the same. (Hyung line same age, Middle line same age, Maknae line same age.) I hope you like it!

Kim Youngbin was just your average student. He did well in class, usually understanding what was going on and always completing his homework assignments on time. His work was neat and well presented, and he was well liked by all in his class. In saying that though, there was only one person he would consider a close friend for most of his school years, and that was Kang Chanhee. The majority of students believed them to be brothers, or at least related in some manner, because of how close they were and how much they looked alike. In reality, though, they had just been friends for as long as either could remember due to their mothers being old school friends. Chanhee was a good student too, similar enough to Youngbin. However, where Youngbin was quiet and only spoke when he was asked to, Chanhee was very outspoken. He was that one kid who always answered back to the teacher with a snide remark or sarcastic comment- but he never got into trouble for it. Despite being a little rude at times, he was a good kid and it was very hard not to like him. When it comes to extracurricular activities in school, the pair differed in their interests. Youngbin was very sporty, playing on the soccer and basketball teams and you could usually find him in the gym if he had a free period. He might just be messing around with a ball, or coming up with some dance routine or practicing covers of his favourite songs. He was the leader type, well able to take charge and everyone was happy to follow his instructions. On their sports days, some people would even compete to get onto Youngbin’s team, because they could be guaranteed to do well with him leading them. Chanhee, on the other hand, was a drama kid, he was always in the theatre with the rest of the club in his free time acting out their favourite scenes in different manners. He even came up with his own one act play for a school festival, which was highly commended by the teachers and students alike. Youngbin did try to steal him away from the theatre sometimes though, and Chanhee was a naturally gifted dancer who had great inspiration for new choreographies. Coming into their last years in school, Chanhee started spending more time in the gym dancing with Youngbin and although he loved his drama, he found more satisfaction in dancing with his best friend.

Kim Seokwoo was the kid in school that everyone loved. He was the teacher’s pet every year without fail, even though he never did anything to look for the title. Probably half the students in the school had a crush on him at some stage, boys and girls alike, and those who didn’t just wanted to be his friend. There was no one who didn’t like him, sure there were some guys who may have been jealous, but he was such a sweetheart so it was impossible to hold his natural charm and good looks against him. Even though everyone wanted to be his friend, he only was really close with one other boy in school, and that was Yoo Taeyang. They were related by marriage or something, it was never really explained to them properly. Taeyang was the kind of kid that was friends with absolutely everyone. Anyone could pass him in the hall and he would greet them by name with a smile. He was known throughout the school as a ball of energy and sunshine, brightening up anyone's day with just a short conversation. No matter the class he was in, he could be partnered up with anyone since he knew everyone. And like Seokwoo, he was a dedicated student who put a lot of effort into his work and learning. Since Seokwoo was such a gentle giant who didn’t want to hurt anyone's feelings, he often ended up getting roped into doing things he would much rather avoid. Some of the things he got into, he ended up loving, such as the cookery club, but others he wasn’t as big a fan of. He ended up on the school’s basketball, volleyball and baseball teams because even if he wasn’t great- having him there was a good morale boost. Of course, another huge boost for those teams came from having Taeyang as a cheerleader. He loved to dance and was incredibly gifted at it, so it was only natural he would put his talents to use and cheer for his best friend. Taeyang could often be found on the pitches behind the school coming up with new routines and running drills with the rest of the school’s cheerleading squad. Seokwoo went to watch sometimes if he wasn’t training, and even picked up a few tricks. The pair were best known around the school for their vocal talents though, after one fateful duet at a parent’s night concert, the whole school praised their clear tones and how well their voices blended. In Seokwoo’s senior year, the two even performed a song at the opening of the school’s new gym.

Baek Juho was an enigma, he slept in the back of most of his classes but still got above average grades. No one in the school really knew much about him, his cold exterior scared a lot of people away from befriending him. He was tough and competitive, when they played aggressive games like dodgeball in gym class some people knocked themselves out rather than go against him. The only person who was close to him was Kim Youngkyun, another kid with a cold exterior who had a mysterious aura around the school. There were rumours when the two started hanging out that Juho had saved Youngkyun from a group of bullies, but no one could verify the source, and they didn’t want to risk getting in either of their bad books. A few people in Youngkyun’s class claimed he was actually really sensitive and had cried at films they were shown before, but even if that was true no one was going to test it out. They were both also known for their deep voiced rapping, after being forced to compete in a talent show one year where they showcased contrasting rough and smooth styles. Despite all their external images, the duo was actually very tenderhearted and sensitive, only creating the “cold-city” facade to protect themselves from harsh words and judgment by other students.

Kim Inseong was a pretty quiet student, he never really spoke out in his classes and kept to himself most of the time. Despite all this though, he was quite popular among everyone in the school. Most of his lunches were spent in the library, reading some new book or just going over class material- not that he needed the extra study time of course. Inseong was a genius in literature and languages, always picking up on nuances in their material that no one else even considered. When he spoke in foreign tongues, it was possible to believe he was a native speaker, his diction and flow was perfect. In other subjects, he also done very well, usually coming in the top 5 of all his classes. He was interested in artistic things outside of academics as well, and if he wasn’t reading you could find him drawing in his sketchbook, playing piano or singing covers of ballads with his soothing vocals. Inseong was never short of a partner for projects, often having people ask him before the topics were even decided if they could work with him, knowing they would get a great grade and have fun doing it.

Lee Jaeyoon was known by every teacher, student, and visitor to the school. He was the voted as the class president on day one and no one ever regretted their decisions. When he was in class he was focused and always done well on tests and projects, but as soon as he was outside the classroom he was wild. No one was safe from the upbeat peppiness he brought into their halls and gym and cafeteria- even the library wasn’t safe. He spent every free moment making posters and organising events for the entire student body to enjoy. And once the event was organised and advertised, he would flit around the school buildings getting everyone hyped up and ready to participate. He ran fundraisers for all the extra things he wanted to plan and managed to get the money he needed every single time. All the little things he did made the school a much brighter place, and everyone felt like Jaeyoon was a close friend of theirs.

Lee Sanghyuk was affectionately called “Loud Sanghyuk” by the entire student body- with some teachers even accidentally calling him as such during assembly. He was the class clown, a trouble maker most of the time, always getting into some sort of mess. Despite this though, he was top of the class in most of his subjects, especially anything practical like science. No one could deny his energy and enthusiasm was infectious, anyone who spent time around him could be guaranteed to leave with sore cheeks from laughing and smiling so much. Even people from outside of the school knew who Sanghyuk was, as he was part of all the media clubs within the school and promoted their sports teams, academic competitors, and students who took part in art or music displays diligently. He was head of the radio club in the school, keeping students engaged by playing upbeat music at lunch times and hosting all sorts of fun talk shows and segments. The school was a much duller place when he wasn’t around, and everyone was infected by his happy virus personality.