#wolves route shenanigans

[ashes-of-ailell]

Shez (Three Houses Unit)

For the Ashen Wolves route I'm creating, Shez may end up being a character within it (if this were something I could actually make, they'd be a playable unit). As a result, I've attempted to adapt them into a Houses unit based on what they can do in Hopes.

This is going to be a long post because I've thought about this perhaps more than I should have. Also - a lot of this will be subject to change depending on how the Wolves Route stuff ends up unfolding. This is just what I've got so far :3

Forgive the probably weird formatting - I'm on mobile browser.

Shez will be an optional unit recruited via a paralogue battle. Their gender will be determined through a dialogue prompt in a small cutscene before the fight (note that their gender will have no effect on the game outside of appearance. They can be S-supported regardless). This paralogue is unlocked shortly after the timeskip.

When recruited, Shez will have two unique classes. One is unlocked upon recruitment and is their default class (Fluegel), while the other is unlocked by completing a separate paralogue battle that appears a bit later on in the story (Asura).

Shez's sword will work how it does in Hopes and share qualities with whatever the other sword you have equipped.

With that background out of the way, here is Shez's unit information:

Personal Ability - Shadowflash (Unit is capable of dashing at incredible speeds, granting them cavalry type movement regardless of class or terrain).

Default Abilities - Sword Prowess Lvl 3 / Reason Lvl 3 / Authority Lvl 2 / Rally Strength

Default Combat Arts - Wrath Strike / Grounder

Default Learned Magic - Blizzard / Banshee / Mire

Default Skill Levels and Strengths/Weaknesses:

Sword - B (Strength)

Lance - E

Axe - E+ (Strength)

Bow - E

Reason - C+ (Strength)

Faith - E (Weakness)

Authority - D+ (Strength)

Heavy Armour - E (Weakness)

Riding - E

Flying - E+ (Budding Talent)

Combat Art/Spell Pool (Specific Skill Level Ups):

Sword - Windsweep (A)

Lance - Tempest Lance (D) / Knightkneeler (C) / Frozen Lance (A)

Axe - Smash (D) / Helm Splitter (C) / Wild Abandon (C+)

Bow - Curved Shot (D) / Point-blank Volley (B) / Ward Arrow (A)

Brawl - Fading Blow (D) / Rushing Blow (C) / Bombard (C+) / Mighty Blow (A)

Reason - Luna (B) / Dark Spikes (A)

Faith - Heal (D) / Nosferatu (D+) / Physic (C)

Authority - Battalion Wrath (C) / Rally Speed (C+)

(Those listed above are just specific combat arts/spells the unit can learn. Unit will learn all other abilities as anyone else would as long as they are not unit specific. All combat arts/spells were cross-referenced with the ones Shez can learn in Three Hopes).

Unique Class Information:

Fluegel (Unique, Advanced) - A dual wielding class exclusive to Shez. Speedy and strong, this class excels with swords. This class can also use magic.

Class Abilities

Vantage - Allows unit to attack first regardless of speed/combat initiation.

Axebreaker - Grants Hit/Avo+20 when using a sword against axe users.

Class Mastery:

Ability - Dual Wielder's Ploy (Increases unit attack range)

Art - Shadow Slide (Allows unit to warp to an allied unit on the field (3 uses per battle))

Asura (Unique, Master) - A dual wielding class exclusive to Shez. A force to be reckoned with, this class boasts a mastery of swords and is highly skilled with dark magic. (Unlocked through paralogue battle, Overcoming Destiny)

Class Abilities:

Vantage - Allows unit to attack first regardless of speed or combat initiation.

Axebreaker - Grants Hit/Avo+20 when using a sword against axe users.

Heartseeker - Adjacent foes receive Avoid-20 during combat.

Class Mastery:

Ability - The Creation (Prevents foes from instantly killing the unit)

Art - Shadow Slash (Allows Shez to unleash their power for a devastating blow. Ignores target's resistances and has a chance to instantly kill non-commander units (6 durability cost)(Asura Only))

For Shadow Slash, it is essentially supposed to be their warrior special in Hopes.

The Creation had two possibilities, one was what is listed and the other was 'Grants Def/Res/Luck+10 during combat. Please let me know if you think the alternative works better! :D

(As a side note, I'm aware that Fluegel technically counts as an Intermediate Class in Hopes, but for the sake of Houses story progression and when Shez is actually recruited here, I've changed it to be an Advanced Class equivalent).

If you've read this far, thank you so much and I hope you like this adaptation of Shez! As I mentioned earlier, this is all subject to change, it's just what I'm working with for now. If you have any feedback or ideas I'd love to hear them too! :3

#fire emblem warriors three hopes #fire emblem three houses #few3h shez #fire emblem shez #shez fire emblem #shez fe3h #fe3h #few3h #I'm not an expert on stats and stuff hence why they've been left out #I also may have messed up on some of the skill level up stuff please forgive me if so #again this is just a rough thing so I know what I'm working with #wolves route shenanigans

[h-worksrambles]

To be a Good Dog, or an Enemy of the World: Models of Masculinity in Shelter

Shelter is a very easy game to treat lightly when you first start it up. A bright colourful visual novel about anthropomorphic dog men, with clear Shounen anime influences in its tone and aesthetic. Charming, funny and unabashedly horny, Shelter presents itself as a game about a group of aggressively quirky treasure hunting doggos getting into all kinds of shenanigans amidst a post apocalyptic frozen wasteland. But to my surprise, not only did I find a game with unexpectedly rich worldbuilding, some sick action scenes (especially for a visual novel) and some genuinely powerful emotional payoffs. But it turns out Shelter has some surprisingly relevant things to say about constructs of masculinity and how they affect queer people. Full spoilers for the everything up to the most recent public update below.

Much of the story of the game revolves around Luke, the overseer of this technologically advanced home for lost Canines, and, apparently, one of the only known remaining Humans, as well as his three closest friends, and our three route characters: Burry, Rune and Max. We follow three alternate timelines where Luke spends the day bonding with one of the three, and, during the recurring event of Skies Ablaze, struggles with his identity as the only human in a giant facility full of anthropomorphic dog men. When Shelter malfunctions and is overrun by monsters, we witness three alternate ways the attack can play out. And in the course of this, the magical nature of Skies Ablaze as an event causes Luke to experience the memories of one of the three route characters. Through this we see the events that brought them to Shelter and how they became the self actualised people we see in the main game. That’s an extremely basic rundown of the gist of the game. But what I think makes this interesting is what we learn about the what the three used to be like before they joined.

All three of the route characters were in the service of one of the other powers that make up Shelter’s setting. Burry grew up along his many siblings only to be contracted as a scientist by the Wolves. Rune likewise was raised to be a soldier by the Wolves from birth. And Max was a spy and assassin on behalf of the Felines. It’s a common joke in the fandom to say that ‘everyone in Shelter is a war criminal’ but there’s definitely a major component of these dogs all being obligated and indoctrinated to serve corrupt systems of power, that lead then to do deplorable things. Burry begins research into the nature of Monsters, which leads him to turn the Wolves’ living test subjects into Monsters in a series of horrific experiments. Most shockingly, this included all of his own siblings. Rune, as the latest incarnation of the legendary hero, Moon, is trained to become the champion and general of the Wolven army and key to their expansion. Having been wrenched away from the only father figure he ever knew, he has taken countless lives in various campaigns, preparing himself for the moment when the power of his past lives finally manifests and his individual consciousness will fade.

Max is the least clear due to his route being unfinished, but we do know that he along with his brother Atri were trained not just to kill by the Felines, but also to hate and repress their own identity as Canines. To think of themselves as Felines, not being given a chance to choose that for themselves. Even in the present day, this still has an effect on Max. He struggles to relate to the other dogs, to adopt their mannerisms. Because he spent years being told that part of him was shameful and he should aspire to be something else.

So what’s the point of all of this? Well, while on the surface, Shelter is a fairly straightforward story of redemption, of people who have all done bad stuff in the past finding a home where they can make a fresh start and live better lives, it becomes very interesting when read through a queer theory lens. In fact, one starts to see some very pertinent points about the societal cishet masculine constructs that queer people have to exist in every day.

A recurring idea that comes up in the cast’s past is their instinctive desire to be told they’re a ‘good dog’. It’s a validation Burry craves as a scientist and Rune craves as a soldier. And sure, there’s a basic anthropomorphic element that they’re dogs who want to be praised. But what defines a ‘good dog’ in this context? Well, in a word, obedience. To live up to a very rigid social standard of what’s expected of them as a Canine, and crush any impulse that tells them otherwise. Burry must be cold and rational as a scientist, quashing his own empathy to perform disgusting experiments. Rune must be a constant image of strength as the legendary Hero. Always fighting for the sake of others and never showing a hint of weaknesses or vulnerability. As Luke points out, if his purpose is to save others, then who is going to save him? All three characters have to deny a part of themselves to live up to what arbitrary wider forces of power or culture have decided they should be. The realisation of this causes then to voice one of Shelter’s arc phrases:

“This World, truly, is Hell.”

And it is something they are only able to shake off when they are among the other dogs at Shelter. Or, in other words, when they are among other queer non conforming men, both literally and metaphorically. This is marked by then declaring themselves as having become an ‘Enemy of the World’. They have rejected the identity that was assigned to them by those in power, and have chosen one that lets them live as their best and true selves. Even when it may cause others to see them as a deviant or even an enemy.

Another factor that leads me to equate caninehood with queer masculinity is the fact that pretty much every named character in Shelter is male. Only one character with female pronouns has even been so much as mentioned so far in the text. Now there are other meta reasons for this. Shelter is an MLM centric, very NSFW game. One of the core draws of the game is to bang a bunch of hot muscular anthros, with very traditionally hypermasculine bodies. But when the game chooses to explore these themes of repression, identity, rigid social constructs and healthy self expression, it’s hard not to see a commentary on masculinity being made if every character is very pointedly, a guy. Now, I don’t want to imply that only queer men will get anything out of Shelter. I think these themes can resonate with any queer person. But I do think that when Shelter is read through the lens of being about the effects of toxic masculinity on queer people, it gains additional resonance.

In addition I think this lens of caninehood equalling queerness is also seen in the overt, casual sexuality of the dogs at Shelter. Luke is already friends with benefits with all three of the route characters before the game even starts. The player can have Luke hook up with other characters like Thistle and Alon and it has no negative consequences as no one really cares about that sort of thing. Again, this is to be expected in a smutty gay furry VN. But it does serve the point about queer celebration and expression. These characters can now be themselves here, whatever that entails. Homophobia is not really brought up as a concept in this game (again, with practically no female characters there are no straight relationships to be propped up as more desirable). But the spectre of it lingers metaphorically in the game’s subtext. There is a conflict between what other forces claim a ‘good dog’ should be, and what caninehood means to these characters.

So how do our characters break free from these masculine constructs? Well, in many ways, because of Luke. Burry, having left behind his masters after deciding he could no longer work for them, goes into hiding in the snowy wastelands beyond Mozeburk. Trying and failing to save his brothers’ souls. He finally meets Luke, half dead in the snow, where the two band together and ultimately discover and establish Shelter. The two devise a magic to restore the souls of Burry’s brothers which Burry calls on in the present day during the final battle. Burry believed he had been irreparably warped by his complicity in the systems around him. That he was no longer a Canine, but a monster still worse than the ones he created. But he reinvents himself through finding connection with someone who believes in him, and who he believes in too. His love for Luke gives him a new purpose and identity. He now lives not for the sake of obedience but for loyalty. The toxic idea of what it means to be a dog is reimagined as something more positive. Kind of like embracing a healthier understanding of masculinity.

This applies to Rune as well. Before he felt he could never express his own weakness due to his socially mandated role, and awaited the total loss of his sense of self. He even ends up imposing those harsh systems on others by intending to take Shelter away from Luke and Burry and hand its powerful technology over the Wolves. Meeting Luke causes Rune to reconsider everything he once thought about himself. And it culminates in him manifesting the power of the Hero not in himself, but in Luke. He allows himself to be saved, to be emotionally vulnerable, to be sexually liberated (as it is around this point that Rune starts engaging freely in casual sex). He comes out, both literally and symbolically, not as the Hero, but as Rune. He trades closed off stoicism for boisterous earnestness. Again, a newer, healthier form of canine masculinity. And while Max’s flashbacks have not yet been elaborated on, I fully expect them to follow this theme.

There is also something to be said about how, within Shelter, they take on new roles that have sometimes culturally bern labelled as not being stereotypically masculine. Burry is the tavern cook. Rune, while ostensibly the chief of Shelter and head of defence, spends most of his time as a teacher for the other dogs. And Max shines as a musician. There too they take on gentler, nonconforming images of masculinity, ones in which their queerness can shine.

And key to all of these arcs, is Luke himself. I would posit that, if Shelter is about a bunch of traumatised men learning to embrace and celebrate their queerness, then Luke, narratively, is queerness personified. His own struggles as the only Human among the dogs represents a near universal queer experience. He wants to be accepted, to be as much of a canine as they are. But he is othered for something he was born as, something he can’t control. He is bullied and isolated by Teak, who is himself a walking hotbed of every toxically masculine trait in the book to drive this home further. In fact, between his hang ups over the physical differences between him and the dogs and how this eats away at his perception of his own identity, you could potentially read Luke’s arc as metaphorically being about gender identity, as he comes to realise that those arbitrary differences he was born with don’t make him any less of a canine at heart. But, as a random cis dude, I kinda feel like that’s not really my analysis to make beyond the broad strokes, even though it’s worth bringing that up.

He undergoes many relatable queer hardships But he also embodies the positive transformative power of queerness. Giving Burry someone to love and live for. Becoming the Hero for Rune to allow the latter to be true to himself. And accepting Max even though he is far from a typical Canine. In the present day story, Luke is the one who undergoes a character arc, compared to his friends/lovers who all go through theirs in flashbacks. In an act of queer solidarity, these now self actualised men are able to help him when he struggles with his identity and purpose in a way that mirrors themselves. Like Burry, Luke struggles with his sense of duty, keeping Shelter running smoothly at a distance, versus what he wants in his heart. Like Rune, he bottles up his emotions to act as the support for everyone else, and learns to confide in them and ask for help (all while stepping once more into the role of the Hero during the final battle, taking on a power only a canine could wield and proving his true nature once more). The Enemies of the World find home, support and empathy with each other, even as that World tries to quash them.

Of course, not only is the story incomplete but I’ve only scratched the surface with Shelter as a game. I could go further into characters like Teak, Alon and Cooper and how they all reinforce these themes in various ways. Or mine further details from the rich worldbuilding. Or even discuss the meta significance of the game’s multiple endings through the Barkest Corner. But my point was really to discuss what made Shelter so special to me. It’s a goofy, gorgeous, shameless visual novel with a lot of polish, a lot of porn and an even bigger amount of heart and sincerity at its core. It tells a moving queer narrative draped in a fantastical veneer and does it incredibly well. And I can’t wait to see how Rausmutt plans to bring it to a close.

#thank for listening to me ramble on about the gay furry doggo game #shelter vn #shelter #rune moon #burry tangleroot #max shelter #luke shelter

[ancientgreekyuri]

we know that hades 2 isnt out yet but what if we made our s/i to ship with Odysseus a dog boy... not sure what to name him yet tho (Sonata is a whole other thing) but we have no idea what in terms of mythology that would be, maybe Zeus shenanigans. or maybe something similar that happened to Asterius (as u know) anyway he look like this and hes like less golden retriever bf and more like border collie bf.

he looks like this. far too smart for his own good.

hi :>

Making him a dog boy sounds like such a fun, I love his energy! There's actually two different guys in mythology who got turned into wolves (Lycion I think, but I can't recall the other) so that's another route you could consider too ^.^ lots of fun curses to go around in the world of mythology :~) I hope him and Odysseus have lovely times together as well 💘

#💌 letters

[abeinginsand]

Sparrow Spiderman AU

Radioactive wolf spider bites teen Sparrow who was definitely playing with said spider beforehand. Spiders and wolves are just so friend-shaped after all, so of course a wolf spider would be as well! Feel like Sparrow named the spider Top Hat (not sure why other than silliness) and the spider sticks around like Nick jr on Glenn's shoulder

Powers listed below:

Barely noticeable fangs normally but all teeth turn razor sharp temporarily for combat etc cold resistance/minor ice and plant magic? cannot make webs but can high jump half mask, floral and wolf theme (yes their mask has wolf ears...and probably fluffy leg warmers/arm warmers) Who is the person Sparrow couldn't save? I was thinking about Lark but that lead to a villain route. Maybe that is a villain the twins face off against at some point--would be an older Sparrow. But for the main au, maybe Glenn? Close-Freeman and Oak Garcia families are really close here! Glenn's like a fun and mischievous uncle to the twins. Helping teach them how to drive recently too. Lark, Sparrow, Nick, Grant, and Terry are still friends. Nick's been a friend to the twins since childhood, they met Grant in middle school, while Terry is a new transfer student. All of the teens are in the school's adventurer's guild. Its a dnd club that Henry founded when he was in school. Sparrow took over the mantle and brought the club back into existence. Lark brought the 'literally sneaking out and adventuring like when we were kids but more intense' part into things. They lead the club together but Lark doesn't want to be held responsible for dealing with faculty etc so he's a normal club member on paper. I think it could be fun if Lark swaps places with Sparrow sometimes as the spiderhero, did he get bitten too? Possibly and/or maybe the two have a bunch of gadgets for him to use. Added shenanigans...Lark and Sparrow can communicate telepathically sometimes (after both were bitten). At some point Lark does make his own costume, but the two still have fun switching around as usual. Both Nick and Glenn still dislike spiders here and while Sparrow was plenty mischievous regarding that info as a kid (and Nick also brought up snakes in revenge), they are pretty...worried about either of them finding out about Sparrow being part spider now.

#sparrow oak garcia #sparrow oak #dndads #dndads au #lark oak garcia #lark oak #spider #spiders #spiderman au #spiderman #abeinginsand talk tag #Seeing a lot of cool spiderman aus and some posts about the new movie too but #...well I've never seen the first one before :0 Watched it yesterday night and really enjoyed it! #will probably make some doodles at some point too #spidey wolf sparrow au #abeinginsand writing tag

[neo-shitty]

roger rabbit — l.mh

description. notorious troublemaker lee minho teeters between suspension and expulsion when he finally gets caught, except it’s for something he didn’t do and when the boy cries ‘innocent’, no one bats an eyelash to drive the wolves of consequence away. with only one eye witness and the world’s faith turned away from him, it’s up to his friends to white out a well-earned reputation and serve justice where it’s due. (all prior cases that led up to said notorious reputation aside, though.)

pairings. lee minho x everybody, 3racha x ocs.

genre. adventure, comedy, platonic!au, friendship!au, high school!au, a pinch of angst and fluff sprinkled everywhere

warnings. swearing, mentions and the act of underage drinking and smoking, attempted arson (?), bullying, slight violence and fighting.

word count. 26.8k

playlist. roger rabbit

notes. for @districtninewriters​ writer’s room theme: yearbook. roger rabbit is yet another installment to the in these halls series, set a year before the events of checkmate. this fic lacks a reader character and will be told from six various perspectives: from the boys of 3racha and the 3 ocs from checkmate BUT the plot is still minho-centric, enjoy!​

BEFORE. Lee Minho. October 26th, Friday.

The afternoon bell often meant the culmination of all the shenanigans on the fourth floor of the Hui Building. Apparently, that wasn’t the case for today.

11-A scattered as soon as the familiar chime of the afternoon bell came in through the speakers, echoing a tune down the hallways that was more ominous than it let on. The high pitched clangs of the metal poles elicited panic across those who knew the consequences of being caught outside classrooms after the bell rang. The halls bustled with students rushing to get back to their rooms, boisterous chit-chat fading into whispers as they disappeared into their respective cubes. Chairs clattered as they’re dragged back into place, whiteboards squeaked as they’re wiped clean, and students filed back to their seats.

Minho hopped off the front desk as his mind registered the sound of the school bell above the game noises his phone emitted. His eyes and thumbs remained glued to the screen, navigating the room blindly and hoping he wouldn’t knock yet another hydro flask off a table top. The timer on his screen showed ‘00:10’ — ten seconds to turn the tables of the game.

He heard his name called out from the back row but he didn't look up, too engrossed. Dragging his fingers, his avatar sneaked past the enemy defense line to a route away from the center of the team fight where everyone else was on each other’s necks. There his target was sprinting back, a weakened avatar retreating back to the enemy base to refill its health bar.

A flicker from the side of his screen caught his eye, a timer ending, a recharged skill. He thumbed the button, dragging it across the screen as the arrow charged. Pointing the arrow to the edge of the screen, where the weakened hero disappeared off, trusting his knowledge of the map to guide him from months of gaming.

Then he let go, and his character shuffled weapons and aimed a bazooka at the corner.

For a moment there was nothing, just the whistle of the grenade shell as it left the barrel. He waited one second, then another, and another. Until finally, distant in the audio of his right earphone, the sound of the bomb hitting and exploding. A banner flashed on the screen, tipping the scales and bumping his team’s kill count up one more digit — one more than the other team’s. The screen froze and 8 scripted letters appeared in glowing white print then dispersed in a flurry of white specks. Game Over.

“Nice one!” Someone beamed from the back row. Jeongin leaped out of his seat, eyes disappearing into thin concaves as he smiled from ear to ear. “Who made the last kill? Was it you?”

Beside him Felix shook his head, setting his phone down and cracking his knuckles. Seungmin did the same. Jeongin turned to Minho last, as if he was the last person he expected to win the match for them. Ungrateful brat, Minho thought. But the younger boy skirted around the desks to give him a hi-touch and a small thank you and the snarky comment withered on the tip of his tongue.

“Good game.”

Minho turned. The members of the other team were already shuffling out their seats, chucking their things into their bags and making the cross to the other side of the classroom. Among them was Han Jisung who gave the winning team a slow clap.

He held out a hand, outstretched for Minho to shake.

And he took it, clasping it for the shake before he whispered, “The M in Minho stands for MVP. Remember that.”

Jisung managed a nod, grinning even as the older boy’s grip tightened around his hand. “I’ll be sure to be on your team next time,” he said, wincing, but maintaining his smile.

“Not a chance.” Minho mirrored him, his own tight-lipped smile on his mouth before he let go.

On his way to his new seat, he passed the losing team, chin high and chest puffed even his lucky strike could’ve been ruled as nothing but a stroke of luck. The games added a bit of spice to their lunch breaks and determined how they’d enjoy the afternoon. The lucky half would be able to sit on the half of the aisle closest to the door, where the air was cooler and the getaways were less noticeable, while the others sat closer to the windows and basked in the afternoon sun that burned bright and blinding.

Minho couldn’t believe it. Closest to the window yesterday, closest to the door now. He set his bag down on his new table, glancing to the end of the row and locking eyes with its previous occupant. Changbin scoffed, muttering something that he couldn’t hear across the aisle. So he yanked the chair backward, gaze unwavering and taunting. It was hard to wipe the smirk off his face, especially when he still managed to snag the seat when it was collectively kept away from him.

But the chair wasn’t where it was supposed to be and Minho noticed it a little too late.

His center of gravity shifted with the absence of the chair, careening backwards until he hit the floor with a solid, loud thud. A moment of stunned silence hung in the air of the classroom, heads turning out of both curiosity and concern. The silence didn’t last. Laughter filled the air, bubbling out of the mouths of the people in the back row. Minho felt heat spread across his skin, his face, his ears.

“Are you alright?”

Minho was too busy helping himself off the ground to notice that someone else offered a hand. When he looked up, he found himself looking at the girl on the chair in front of him. Lia had an outstretched hand held up, one that he felt bad for not noticing sooner. He nodded, reassuring.

The fall captured the attention of the two other girls on her row; one with a blank, judging gaze and  the other wide-eyed with her mouth agape.

Saeyeon’s eyes didn’t linger on Minho for long and he went to dust his ass off with the spare seconds no one was keeping a too close watch on him. “You’ve done it this time, Hyunjin,” Saeyeon warned.

Minho’s ears twitch at the mention of a name, the culprit of his embarrassment finally bearing a face in his mind. Behind him, he heard faint giggles, fading as its owner slipped away from the site of his mischief. The others cleared a path for him to get away, but they didn't make a move to block Minho. Not that it would’ve done much.

Their classroom was small. Hyunjin managed to vault over a row of desks once to escape the grasp up the older boy but the ways out the room were shut and with the hallways off limits after the bell rang, Hyunjin didn’t have much room to run to.

It didn’t take long for him to be cornered. He stood with his back against the front door, trapped by the frontrow killjoys who were unwilling to aid him on his escapade and by Minho who blocked his only other way out.

“I’m sorry!”

Hyunjin shrank when Minho grabbed him, the tall boy reduced to a crouching wimp backed up against a solid surface of the door. Minho tightened his grasp, hand framing the twin bones of the younger boy’s arm.

“It’s alright, it’s alright.” Minho tried to muster the most gentle voice. The back row erupted into snickers as the scene unfolded up front like a school play scene. “I just want you to remember what I said.”

The blond blinked back, clueless.

Minho frowned. “My, aren’t you a forgetful guy.” He tightened his grip again and the younger boy’s eyes flicker over to him. “How many degrees did I tell you?”

Hyunjin’s giggles seized for a sliver of a moment. And Minho thought the boy had forgotten all about it, opening his mouth to repeat the phrase when, “180, 180!”

“180, what?”

“180 degrees,” Hyunjin stammered, but still managed to squeeze a giggle in between. “180 degrees for 20 minutes to cook me in an air fryer.”

It almost made Minho smile. “Good.”

He pulled the boy off the ground, standing at eye level for a moment. His lips parted to say something, but fell short when the door swung open.

Rays of bright light spilled into the dim classroom and the secrets of the dark cube lay exposed to those who were prying. The sunlight was blinding, enough to have him squinting to make out who stood by the entrance. Three silhouettes, enveloped in white light and nearly impossible for him to recognize.

“Well,” a voice said. “When are you going to move out of the way, Lee Minho?”

Minho knew that voice too well. It belonged to the bane of his high school existence; the one that shouted his name way too many times down long hallways and through the school’s announcement system, so damn much that he started to hate it. Recognizable even without the layers of autotune, Director Park stood by the doorway, flanked by the Student’s Affairs Chief Mrs. Gong and the student council president Brian — the SSA’s beloved (but hated by most students including himself) ‘gotta-keep-these-animals-in-check’ triumvirate.

The fluorescent lights of the classroom flickered on overhead, basking everyone in steady light for the triumvirate to scrutinize. Minho hated it when the trio visited, it never meant anything good. He’d had enough of them tailing him for anything he did, though he knew they were there for good reason. He’d been stirring trouble for them for the past three school years he’d been enrolled and they were right to be cautious of him. Their rules had loopholes; he just happened to be good at spotting and exploiting them.

“You must be wondering why we’re here.” Director Park’s voice boomed from across the room as Minho made his way back to his seat, answering the question no one dared to ask. The old man swept the room like a scanner, burning through eye sockets as he met each students’ gaze. He settled on Minho longest and they locked eyes like rivals in a ring before the match starts.

The old man is the first to relent, tearing his eyes away to gesture at the student beside him. Brian nodded lightly before he turned to the class.

“We’re here to do a mandatory bag check. Bags on the table, now.” He didn’t explain further, immediately walking over to the first row to start checking.

The gears in Minho’s mind churned in speculation. Fridays were standard for bag checking days, but October itself wasn’t in bag checking season. The checks only ever happened nearing the end of the semester which was well over a month away. A quarter of the council’s force would join Brian on his hunt to expose students but never the other members of the triumvirate. Minho glanced down the row, catching a glimpse of Chan’s confusion then proceeded to tick a box on his mental checklist of things that would support his hypothesis. One clueless council member down and one other to go. He leaned over to the row in front of him, tapping Taehee’s shoulder before he asked.

“Did you know about this?” he whispers, hypothesis strengthened when Taehee shook her head.

Whatever the reason for the bag check, it wasn’t disclosed to the rest of the council members. And whatever it was, it was serious enough to warrant the presence of two of the most powerful administration officers.

A few vape sticks, cigarette packs, and a ‘water’ bottle filled with liquor later, Brian cleared the student in front of Minho and made his way to the last row. The older boy’s eyes ran over Minho in the same scanning fashion the director did, searching for discrepancies like they always did when they walked past each other.

“Improper uniform again, Lee,” Brian muttered, flipping his infamous ticket-to-hell booklet to the nearest available sheet. He set it on the desk, topping it with a ballpen for Minho to sign himself on to. Minho checks the tick boxes blindly, muscles gaining memory after filling the receipt way too many times to count.

“At least I’m present.” Minho grinned as he handed the booklet back.

The sloppy thing was down to its last few leaflets. Brian was due for another booklet change and he still had half a semester to get through. It made Minho wonder how much he contributed to the thinning of its available sheets.

“Why the sudden bag check?”

“Student council lost something.” Brian didn’t look up when he answered, too busy pulling out unused notebooks and untouched textbooks out of the depths of Minho’s bag.

The latter studied the president’s face. He kept a poker face, but the creases on his forehead showed his agitation and the underlying frustration that came with whatever was missing.

But before he could ask for further details, Brian stilled. The brief pause sent Minho into a mini-panic. Did he accidentally leave something behind? Fridays weren’t safe anymore and he learned that the hard way. He made sure his bags were contraband-free during those days, even bothering to double-check every Friday morning.

“Minho.”

He didn’t miss the tone drop, it made him uneasy—anxious. He slipped his arm beneath the table, putting a weight on his leg to keep it from bouncing. “You can’t find anything there. I didn’t bring anything with me today.” He said, mustering his confidence that his bag was indeed devoid of anything they could be snooping for.

Again, Brian didn’t answer and Minho would’ve pried for one if the former didn’t pick something out of his backpack. A brown paper bag, weighted, thick, and definitely not empty.

Minho unconsciously looked around, scanning for any hidden cameras that could be filming him but there were none. He didn’t recall seeing a brown bag when he opened his bag earlier that day. How Brian managed to pull it out of nowhere? Minho didn’t have the answers. “What’s that?”

The older boy stared, unamused. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

Brian dropped the bag onto Minho’s desk. Minho avoided the older boy’s gaze, pushing himself up and peering down the bag to check its contents. Inside were papers coiled by rubber bands — wads of money, Minho realized — stacked horizontally to fill the bottom of the paper bag. Pieces fell into place in his mind; the reason behind the rushed bag search, the item the council lost, the stash of money in his backpack.

“Brian, did you find something?”

And before Minho could utter a word in his defense, Brian picked the bag off of his desk and raised it for the class to see.

Breaths hitch, hushed whispers, stunned silence. Eyes turned to the bag, to Brian, then to him last but only he felt the weight of their gazes, the heaviness of passed judgment. He was just as stunned as everyone else.

“I didn’t do it, I swear.” It was the first thing he blurted out when Brian turned back to face him, but the older boy only casted him a frown.

He sounded ridiculous and he looked the part too, caught red-handed and recycling the same line he used to get away with everything in a pathetic attempt to defend himself. Everyone heard it way too many times and have been fooled just as much. Their eyes held no surprise, like they knew if the culprit was anyone in the class, it would’ve been him.

“Lee Minho.” The voice snapped him out of his head, chucking him back into the classroom to face the looming reality of his situation. “If you could follow us downstairs?”

The walk down was a blur of three backs leading him through flights of staircases and endless hallways. When he was asked about the bag and its contents, he answered with nothing but his version of the truth but it wasn’t what they wanted to hear. They stared at him, disbelieving, like there was no way in hell he was still trying to get himself out of this one when he’d been shoved to the corner.

Except he really was telling them the truth this time, yet the idea of him being set up was hilarious to them—bordering made up than reality. He walked out the Director’s office with his head down, hands shaking, winded. It wasn’t the first time the triumvirate deliberated on what to do to him but it was the first time he was this shaken and unsure. It didn’t even matter that he told the truth this time. With how things have been set up, all signs pointed nowhere else but his direction.

For the first time, he dreaded the moment they'd come out to tell him he’d been suspended because he knew deep down that this might be his last time.

ONE. Bang Chan. October 26th, Friday.

He hated the way they were staring. 

Chan never disliked council meetings, not even when they lasted long after the sun hid itself beneath the horizon. He thought of it as a productive way to pass his time, the same way he once viewed his soccer in middle school. To him, it was always a pleasure to throw in ideas for school events, tugging the ropes backstage, and seeing the whole thing play out after all the hard work he’d put into it. The stress that came with it exhilarated him, driving him to do better, knowing well that their labor would be rewarded with fulfillment. 

But being in the student government had its fair share of mundane work, littered between the weeks leading up to the planning of the monthly events. Those were the days Chan dreaded most. Days passed with him barely stepping within the walls of his classroom, missing school work after school work that would all be accounted for when the hectic week passes. This month, he didn’t expect something else to top it all off. 

The council was called upon not long after Minho was escorted out of their class by the triumvirate, the council’s bustle falling into hushed whispers when he entered the office. It had been the same when Minho left earlier, ‘I knew he did it’s exchanged by other classmates while most of the back row remained silent—dumbfounded. He kept his head down, eyes glued to the pearl white tiles as he shuffled to his seat in the oval. When Brian arrived after deliberating with the triumvirate, he didn’t waste a moment to fill everyone in on the events of that morning; the stolen cash fund, the culprit, and the suspension that came as the consequence.

The meeting was shorter than usual, nothing else on the agenda but the discussion of the lost and found funds and the people responsible; the treasurer and, after accusations were exchanged, Minho’s classmates—him and Taehee.

“You were both in it, weren’t you?” 

It made his blood boil, more so when he looked up and caught the eye of a coward who never took a fall without dragging someone else along with him. The smirk tugging on the corner of the treasurer’s lips doesn’t go unnoticed and it took every fiber of Chan’s self control to stop himself from bursting. But he stayed silent, willed himself to keep his mouth shut to not add fuel to the fire.

He left the room as soon as they were dismissed, exhausted and heavy with unnecessary baggage he never wanted to carry. Guilt weighed him down even when he knew he wasn’t in on it. To be accused of letting slip that the council room was left unlocked was outrageous to him. He didn’t even know the lock was broken! 

The accusations were getting to his head, twisting the truth as he knew it the longer he was inside the office’s walls. A wave of relief washed over him when the meeting was adjourned, taking the first opportunity to walk out before anyone could pester him about it any longer. He thought stepping out would feel like a breath of fresh air, that the walk to the restaurant would be less suffocating. But the silence between him and the other junior was cold, different from their usual comfortable silence. 

Taehee walked a few steps ahead, not even letting him catch up to her. He didn’t need to be a genius to know when he was being avoided, but his conscience never let him rest until he knew the reason why. Though he did know the reason and in his mind he could still see her glaring from across the oval table. He wanted to say something, anything.

“Why did you stop me from talking earlier?”

Chan blinked. He wondered if he imagined her talking or it was just one of those moments where his brain spoke too loud it broke physical barriers. 

But Taehee turned to face him. “Why did you stop me from talking earlier?” she repeated.

The memory flooded back in pulses of rage, a relentless ticking in his ear as Jae justified the accusations with circumstantial evidence that had nothing to do with the robbery — nothing to do with him. He caught the moment Taehee nearly snapped, the intensity of her glare at the senior. Their eyes met for a moment, and he could tell she was waiting for one last signal to go off but was only met with a firm head shake. And he worried she wouldn’t listen, but she reclined on her seat, closing her eyes the way she wished she could her ears.

“The situation looked bad enough for us. I didn’t want it to get worse.” A half-truth, he knew he had more reasons and Taehee could see right through. “We can’t do anything about it anymore. He’s suspended and we don’t have the evidence to counter what they had, what we witnessed earlier.” He replied.

Taehee scoffed, a cloud of air fogging where she exhaled. “Are there ever times where you don’t let people get to your head? Where you, I don’t know,” she shrugged, “stand your ground?”

And that was all it took for his facade to shatter, to have his thoughts spiraling on themselves, to feel transparent—seen. Like the screen he put up did nothing to hide him and the instability of his own beliefs. All she did was ask but her words felt like daggers lodging into his chest. Maybe it was the amalgamation of Minho’s petty crimes that made him lose his fate, or his desperation to be free from the treasurer’s accusation that made him break. Worst of all, her words echoed Minho’s. 

“You’re being biased.”

“Of course I am, dumbass. He’s my friend.” My, not our. “I know Minho in a way your rich ass doesn’t and if there was anything he wasn’t willing to risk it was his scholarship. He wouldn’t do anything that stupid.”

“Minho’s my friend too.” It was the only thing Chan managed to utter, her words seeping through the way the accusations in the council room did. 

“Of course he is,” she answered, unbelieving. 

“Taehee.”

But she didn’t turn her head. A bus rolled to a stop in front of them, hailed by another person at the bus stop. She stepped away from the sidewalk, letting other passengers line up before her and put herself last on the queue. 

“If they ask, tell them I have a project to finish.” She boarded the bus and never looked back.

Chan caught a whiff of the barbecue house long before he came in. The air shifted as he walked down the barren sidewalk, autumn breeze blowing his direction and picking the smoke from the restaurant along with it. The smell of cooked meat made his stomach churn, mouth watering as his senses were overrode by his own hunger, enough to even dull his raging thoughts. God, I’m hungry. He picked up the pace until he reached the swinging doors of the BBQ house and let himself in.

The house was packed today, tables occupied by groups of students and casual-clad workers. He satcheted across the room, squeezing through narrow aisles and avoiding the occasional arm swing of another customer who had too much to drink. Like usual, his friends occupied the long table at the back, the only table in the restaurant that could sit everyone down. They greeted him when he approached, setting their bags down and making room for him on the edge of the bench. A plate found its way to him, along with utensils and slices of his favorite meat.

“Where’s Taehee?” Saeyeon asked from across him, her eyes glinting from the light hanging overhead — expectant.

Chan stilled at the mention, knocked back into the thoughts he tried to escape from. “Went home,” he answered. “Had a project to do.”

The girl cocked her head, “Didn’t she say she finished it last night?”

Silence fell upon them like a veil, excluding them from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the restaurant. Chan didn’t answer, the lie wasn’t his to justify. The topic was dropped, moving on to other things as they went on with their meals. 

Every now and then, his eyes would wander over to the vacant spaces between them, all too wide and hard to ignore. At their maximum, they sat elbow to elbow with the occasional complaint about personal space thrown about. There were no complaints about brushing arms today, but no one seemed enthusiastic about it. He shrugged the thought away.

“How was the council meeting?” Changbin asked. 

Chan glanced up, wishing for the topic to be dropped. But there was no point in avoiding the elephant in the room and even if he got around it now, he’d still have to answer it sooner or later. “Jae got scolded and he accused us of being accomplices,” he said, hoping the explanation would suffice for Taehee’s sudden absence. 

Jeongin rolled his eyes. “God, isn’t he annoying? Can’t he own up to anything?” 

“Right,” Felix said, pursing his lips before turning to Chan. “You know that isn’t true, Chan. Don’t let it get to you.”

Another echo. The words rippled in his mind, three different faces all saying the same thing. There was a simple irony in the way it, too, was getting to his head. 

If what Chan believed wasn’t the truth, then what was? The version of reality in Chan’s mind felt too distorted to be the line between facts from opinions, real from imaginary, truth from lie. Was the truth the one agreed upon by most? Was it the one insisted by those who only saw one side of the story? Was he biased and clouded by his own beliefs? 

His thoughts race in his head, conflicted on who and what to believe. Did he really play a role in having the cash fund stolen? Did one of his closest friends act without thinking of what would follow? Was he a bad person for being rational? Or was he shallow for letting himself be swayed easily?

“Earth to Bang Chan?”

Chan’s vision refocused, finding himself staring at a waving palm held in front of him. He blinked as the blonde lowered his hand back down to the table. 

“Eat your meal, tough guy. It’s been a rough day.” Hyunjin said. 

He couldn’t, not while his thoughts raged. Not while the events of earlier put him on chokehold for being both a bad friend and an irresponsible officer. Fridays were supposed to be good days, a hooray for the weekend celebrated with a meal at their go-to restaurant. They were supposed to be complete on Fridays. 

“Do you,” he started, but trailed off. He wanted to drop the subject but all eyes were on him now, waiting for him to finish. He exhaled the last of his hesitance. “Do you think he actually did it?”

There was a pause in their actions; a blink, a split-second caught off guard by his query. Nervous glances were exchanged across the table but the moment passed and no one motioned for the topic to be dropped. Chan guessed that they were all just tiptoeing around it, afraid of how the others might react.

Chan’s gaze landed on a boy at the opposite end of the table. “Honestly, if it’s just the evidence, it sure seems like he did it.” Seungmin said, the others nodding in agreement after him.

Another person stirred, setting their own pair of chopsticks down with a rather loud clatter. Lia furrowed her eyebrows. “Can’t be. We were together the whole morning.”

“You were together the whole morning but you didn’t say anything?” Frustration got the better of Chan and his voice came louder than he expected. A few heads turned from other tables but he was too agitated to be bothered. Guilt made his stomach twist, calling Lia out for keeping silent felt hypocritical after the meeting earlier. He could’ve said something, done something. Why do you keep letting them get to your head?

“I was just as shocked as everyone was. Everything happened too fast.”

That, he could agree with. It was over before he could even ask why the bag check happened in the first place. 

“It’s alright, actually,” Seungmin said, drumming his fingers on the table. “If she said anything, they’d say she was in on it too.” 

“But where were you?” Everyone’s attention panned to Lia. Chan hoped they were just as desperate as he was to hear anything that could support Minho’s innocence, rid their minds of the secondhand guilt they were feeling. He didn’t put too much faith into it yet, a million things could’ve happened between first period and lunch break when the stash was uncovered missing.

“We came in late. Classroom doors were locked so we passed the time at the cafeteria.” Lia answered, no pauses in her statement but seeming as though she was merely recollecting her thoughts.

Jisung shifted beside Chan, leaning over the table to narrow his eyes on the girl across the table. “You didn’t join him when he stole the money now, did you?”

“And why would I do that?”

“Who knows?” Jisung shrugged. “You loved your friends so much you stole the council’s stash so you could split it between all 11 of us.”

“Jisung.” Chan warned.

“Sorry.”

Across the table, Changbin asked, “What was the verdict?” 

“Suspension. A week.” 

Felix shook his head, frowning. “Can’t be just that. Stealing is a serious criminal offense. Might be bumped into an expulsion before the week’s over.”

For a moment Chan wished it wasn’t mentioned, the gravity of the situation being deeper than what he initially thought. His blood ran cold beneath his skin at the mention, at the thought of being the one in the end of the cruel consequences. A part of him wanted to laugh, to tell Minho he dug his own grave and now had to lie in it. But after hearing Lia’s statement, a verbal testimony that Minho was elsewhere when the robbery took place, he wasn’t too thrilled to hear about the expulsion.

Still, it was evidence enough; a singular hope he could clutch onto, a chance that his friend might not be the one behind the grave offense. It was a gamble he was willing to risk. He had his own mind to disprove and friends to make it up to. And the impulse came like a lighthouse’s beam through a foggy day at sea.

Heads turned to Chan when he abruptly stood from his seat, the bench rattling backwards and nearly making the others beside him fall off.  “I’ll talk to him tonight, get his side of the story,” he announced.

“Do you even know where he lives?” Jeongin asked.

Right when Chan was about to shake his head, Lia sprung up from the other side of the table. “I do. I’ll come with you.”

No one bothered to stand in their way. Whatever they’ll get out of the boy tonight might not be the whole truth. The chances of them getting vague cryptic answers or straight up lies were high but it was better than nothing. Chan could only hope they’d be enough to tranquilize the thoughts inside his head and for once give him a concrete place to side on.

“You’ve been to Minho’s?”

The bus hummed beneath their feet as it turned down narrower streets. Outside, the skyscrapers were distant, nothing but blocks of light this far out from the center of the city. A glowing arc curved over downtown Seoul, a vibrant halo against the inky black sky—nothing like the suburbs that sat outside its walls. The buildings here were no more than a few stories high, stacked atop each other as they hiked up sloped roads.

Lia shook her head. “No. We just see him here a lot.”

She craned her neck, fingers curling around the pole that kept her upright throughout the ride then pressed against the red stop button. The bus swerved lightly, coming off the fast lane before groaning into a stop beside the road. Chan followed her out to the bus and onto the sidewalk.

“Quite far for your adventures,” Chan said, squinting at the starless sky overhead then down the dimly lit road. “And a bit dangerous too.”

Lia let out a small laugh. “Taehee lives nearby.” Her eyes find Chan’s before he could mask the way he faltered. “Did something happen back there?”

The memory of the girl's gaze resurfaced in Chan’s mind, a cold stare that didn’t warrant any words to show how she’d been let down. He sucked in a shaky breath but when he opened his mouth to speak, the words didn't come.

“It happens a lot, Chan,” Lia muttered. “She says things she doesn’t mean when she’s pissed. Sorry you had to hear it.”

The matter of whether she meant it or not didn’t bear any weight to him. It struck true regardless. “Don’t worry about it. She had a point.”

They walked in silence up steep hills that made Chan’s thighs burn. The question of why Minho always showed up late to class finally made sense. The thought almost made him smile before he remembered why he was making the hike in the first place. After today, he might never see the other boy walk in late again. 

The pair stopped across the street from the only bustling part of the suburbs. A building spanned the entire block, a mix of mini-marts and restaurants where you couldn’t tell apart which were open and not. Chan wasn’t used to the silence. He was always used to the hustle and bustle of the streets of downtown Seoul.

They crossed when the last of the traffic passed. Chan followed her footsteps until they reached a small indent in the building. The eatery didn’t have a door. A counter occupied half of the entrance while the other led into the empty dining area. The employee working the counter shot out of their seat when he noticed them approaching. “Sorry, we’re already closing up. Come again next time.”

Chan’s eyes panned to the direction of the voice, familiar even with half his face covered in the shade of his cap.

“Minho.”

The boy’s head shot up, a pair of round eyes blinking up at them from behind the counter. Recognition washed over his face but his mouth twisted into a frown. Chan thought he’d ask them to leave.

“Do you both want to freeze to death?” Minho shouted from across the counter. He reached over to unhook the chain blocking the entrance to the restaurant. “Come in.”

Chan hesitated. But Lia stepped around him, walking up to the front of the entrance and soon enough he followed suit. Despite the restaurant being open, it was a lot warmer inside — safe from the chilly winds that swept down the streets of this side of the city. The restaurant was small, just enough to fit a dozen dine-in customers. Its yellow walls were matched with red accents, both dark and vibrant. The scent of fried chicken hung heavily in the air even after closing time. Only one other table was occupied, a lady hunched over a record book, tapping away on a calculator.

Minho led them down the narrow space, to a table not far from the back, adjacent to a statue of a rooster. He turned to them as they were seated, the wobbly stools giving Chan a scare when he teeters backward. Both Lia and Minho stifled their laughter.

“Can I get you anything?” Minho asked.

“We’re fine,” Chan said. “We’re just here to talk.”

The expression on Minho’s face shifted, unreadable with his head hung low. He nodded slightly, rounding the table to take the stool across Chan. He looked up, face steeled and eyes blank, it made Chan’s stomach twist and grumble. The restaurant was quiet enough for it to be heard. He forgot about his hunger, buried by his anxiousness, but it seemed that his body did not.

Minho’s eyes widened in amusement, breaking into a grin. “You can’t lie for shit, Chan. Hold on, I’ll get you something.”

Minho disappeared behind a curtained doorway, reappearing moments later with pieces of chicken in a mesh strainer and two pairs of chopsticks. He set it down on the table between them along with a tray of sauces. Chan’s guilt swelled up again. The thought that he never once viewed Minho as a possible victim to a setup crawling into his mind and making his hand heavy. He felt ashamed.

“Well,” Minho said. “Are you just going to stare at it?”

Lia shook her head, “I already ate.”

He nodded, turning to Chan. “You?”

Chan chewed the inside of his cheek, pride and hunger brawling within him. But he shook his head, priorities resurfacing. “It’s not what we’re here for.”

“So?” The change in Minho’s tone caught him off guard. “I’m not talking until you eat something,” he said, arms crossed over his chest as he stared Chan down.

The older boy resigned. His hands found their way to the table, coiling around the chopsticks before he picked up the nearest chicken finger in between. He muttered a small thank you, voice quiet. Minho nodded across him, only slumping back on his chair when a portion of the meat had been bitten off. 

“Did the council send you?” Minho asked, jokingly but it was enough to make Chan freeze. Then before the latter could formulate a question, he turned to Lia. “How about you? Let this be a lesson to never come to school late again.”

He lost Chan at the first question. Minho joked an awful lot and his tone wasn’t laced with distrust. What if Chan really was sent by the council to pry the answers out of him? Chan shook his head. He was here for his own sake, for his own peace and his conscience. But didn’t that make him anymore selfish than he already seemed?

The silence that hung between them dissipated when the girl spoke. “Wow. Are you going to change once you’re back from suspension?”

Minho looked up, staring. The dim light of the restaurant reflected on his eyes, a sparkle on the glossy surface. Then he dropped his gaze, avoiding their prying ones and choosing to look at the table between them instead. His fingers darted across the coated wood, tracing the circular patterns.

Then his answer came a moment later.  “I don’t think they’ll let me go back.” 

The chopsticks nearly fell out of Chan’s grasp. He opened his mouth to say something and again, his words failed him. What was there to say? 

“There aren’t any mid-school year scholarship offers so I might be taking the rest of the year off. So I offered to help around a bit.”

The words spilled from his mouth so easily, like he’d already rehearsed what he would and wouldn’t say. Chan doesn’t miss the gloss coating Minho’s eyes. He recalled seeing him the first time during freshman year, scoring back-up for senior performances before weaving his way up the ranks until he became the first junior to become the leader of the school’s dance troupe. He was easily one of SSA’s best leaders, a strict perfectionist who ensured a quality performance under his lead — a loss to the academy. 

“Minho, it’s—”

He held up a finger. “I know what you’re going to say. I wouldn’t say no to a solution if you had one.” His voice was light but the hopelessness in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed, like he spent the rest of his afternoon twisting the situation a million times over to see a way out but to no avail. A jester who finally ran out of tricks up his sleeve. He looked worn out.

The sight was enough to finally change Chan’s mind. His friend was innocent, distraught as much as they were. In the boy’s eyes, there was an anxiousness that mirrored his own. While he worried about an internal crisis, the other was lost in the gravity of the situation he found himself in.  

“But you didn’t do it.” Lia’s voice was just as quiet. Chan could only imagine what it was like for her, carrying the truth with her but still being helpless.

Minho’s eyes didn’t waver from the table. “It doesn’t matter if it isn’t what they believe.”

“We’ll find a way.”

“Don’t bother.” 

“Minho,” Chan deadpanned. 

“No, for real though.” He blinked up, looking straight into the eyes of the older boy.  “Good for the both of you because if you got caught stealing something, everyone’s going to say, ‘Oh, they’d never do that.’ Did you even see how our class reacted? No one was even surprised that they found the stash in my bag. Even the director expected that it’d be there.”

Chan scrambled for the right words to say. “Won’t you at least try to defend yourself?” he suggested, only realizing how stupid he sounded when the younger boy rolled his eyes at him. Then the echo came again, as if to remind him of his hypocrisy. He was in a position to help, one with better chances of working compared to Minho’s attempts to defend himself. But the moment passed, the chance slipped out of his fingers because he let it.

“You think I didn’t? I told them the fucking truth earlier and nothing changed.” Minho’s voice was strained now, more eager to end the conversation than to discuss it further. “Put it this way. We don’t know each other. If you see the stash pulled out of my bag, what would you think of me? You’d think I stole it, right? Even if I told you that I didn’t actually do it, you’d think I was just lying. Imagine that but with someone with a mad-record of rule breaking.”

The restaurant fell quiet. Chan lowered his head. As much as he hated to admit it, Minho was right. Word of mouth wouldn’t be enough to disprove anything. Earlier that day it wasn’t enough for him to be convinced either.

“Face it.” Minho muttered. “There’s nothing you can do.”

A voice called out from behind the kitchen curtain, an indication they’ve overstayed their welcome. Minho showed them the way out, the bigger matters left untouched in their remaining moments together. Minho stayed behind to close up, leaving them to traverse the road down to the bus stop in the middle of the night.

The ride back to the city was spent in silence.

TWO. Jeon Saeyeon. October 29th, Monday.

Even the best fell down sometimes. When news about Minho’s suspension spread across the campus like wildfire, that phrase always came with it. Like a king with a fallen crown, a hero walking into the hands of the enemy. It was the subject of recess chatter and the whispers of faculty gossip. Saeyeon heard it all, and it made her wonder if the bustle was enough to make the school paper’s headlines.

Everyone wanted to pry and their own classmates strived off of it. They stroked the fires, fed the wood to keep it burning—all to keep the moths drawn. They ran their mouths, recounting any form of bad experience with Minho just to mount on to the issue because any kind of attention was good. If anything, the more scandalous the better.

Digging up Minho’s past became boring eventually. The audience didn’t want justifications and back stories. They wanted the reasons behind it, the how-he-did-it, insider information. But the class had nothing to offer for there were no witnesses to the crime itself, only its discovery and their assumptions. The more they talked, the more loopholes showed, lies surfacing as the tide drew back. The closest accounts were locked away, at the back row of the classroom behind zipped lips.

They got nothing out of her, nothing out of them. But it didn’t mean she wasn’t getting annoyed.

A part of her wished she would be careful of what she wished for. Everything was good in moderation and while she dreamed of making it big someday, even attention was tolerable in minute amounts. The pestering didn’t stop in their classroom, it followed her down the hallways and into the cramped comfort rooms, up flights of staircases and through crowded corridors.

Curious cats did not understand the idea of personal space. Arms were hooked around hers, dragging her away from where she needed to be, where she would then be asked of something she didn’t have an answer to. Then the stares came, pairs of eyes gazing with doubt swirling in their irises, because the answers she gave weren’t what they wanted to hear. She was one of the easier people to approach, but it didn’t mean she slipped up easily. 

A dozen white lies and shrugged shoulders later, the hype died down and their holds loosened and Saeyeon could finally breathe. As soon as she reached the ground floor, she planned the quickest route to her destination. She made a turn at the nearest exit, marched down the narrow hall leading up to the wooden exit door and stumbled out into the alleyways. 

Like most noons, the narrow paths were devoid of people but their traces lingered everywhere. Empty liquor bottles were tucked into corners, the ground littered with crushed cigarette butts, and the faint scent of nicotine hung in the air—stuck to the walls like strong perfume. It was home for some and a get-away for others. For Saeyeon, it was a life hack. 

The narrow paths ran along the edge of the campus, hidden behind the grandiose buildings up front. It weaved through the grounds like a network of shortcuts, exclusive to those who explored enough to discover. She found herself there when she needed a breather, to be away from the public’s eye for a few minutes or to calm herself down after a mind-drying test.

She ran into Minho here often and for a while it was their little secret, a nook away from everyone else, where they could talk about anything and everything just to get it off their chest. He’d put his cigarette away, crush it beneath his feet the second he’d see her pop out of the doorway. The scent still irked her and it showed on her face enough to always warrant an apology. But having someone to confide in was better than nothing, especially one who didn’t let slip a single thing. Nothing she said at the alleyways ever got out and she never spoke a word about the cigarettes. 

Minho hadn’t been there for a while now, long before his suspension, yet a part of her still expected to see that hunched back figure tapping away on his phone. She thought it was better than having him burn his lungs off but after the past week, she wasn’t so sure anymore. Then she’d shake her head, cast her doubts aside the way he did his cigarettes. 

The others should be at the meeting place by now, passing time under the heat of the midday sun. The rooftop deck was their last resort for lunch breaks, mainly because the open air didn’t compensate for the scorching rays. But it was away from the public’s eye so for the sake of their own well-being, they all agreed to spend the lunch hour there. 

Saeyeon slipped back into the normal route unnoticed, head down and hair tucked beneath a hoodie as she made the hike up the steep stairs. There was only so much the sweater could hide, her curls cascaded down and framed her face and she prayed it won’t be enough for anyone to recognize her.

“Thank fuck!”

The rooftop door swung open with a light nudge and with her full force pushed onto it, it slammed against the adjacent wall. A breeze swept past her, kissing the pinpricks of sweat on the sides of her face and she walked over to the pile gathered on the shaded part of the rooftop, kicking the door back shut behind her. 

“Took you long enough.” A voice called. Jeongin had one hand clutching his phone and the other outstretched before him. 

Saeyeon arched her brow. “Who left me alone with the paperwork, huh? The nosy bastards were just a cherry to top it all off.” She tugged the sweater over her head, peeling it from her skin before chucking it at the boy’s face instead of his open palm. She shrank into the space beside him.

Across her, Felix frowned. “Who even purposely takes math as an elective?” He asked, his own brows knitted at the thought.

“Jeongin does because he skipped his classes for the past two years and now needs to catch up so he could graduate with us next year.” Saeyeon replied, smiling brightly—fakely—at the freckled boy who eyed them skeptically.

“But you passed?”

“I’m not saying I didn’t.”

“What she’s saying is,” Jeongin didn’t let her finish, dropping his phone on his lap and finally paying full attention,“that she’s a very kind friend who’s willing to help me out.”

“And you express your gratitude by leaving her with paperwork?” Saeyeon was glad that Felix, at least, took her side in the bickering.

“Not the point!”

A large crash from the entrance startled them out of their wits. They all overestimated the door’s newly oiled hinges. An unusual pair walked in through the doorway, both sweater-clad like Saeyeon was.

Taehee crossed the roofdeck in half the time Jisung did, scowling as she approached. Jisung trailed behind her, looking like a tornado swept through him. His hair was a disheveled bundle, his uniform only half-tucked in, and his bag spilling out half its contents. 

“I thought you weren’t coming today.” Lia asked, looking up at the pair. 

Taehee sat a spot away and pointed at the wreck that was Jisung. “Said he needed me.”

Saeyeon narrowed her eyes at them but she slumped back against the wall when she couldn’t think of anything else to say. Needed. Something about the term tickled a memory out of the depths of her mind, still she couldn’t quite fish it out.

“You’re late!” Seungmin yelled. “Are you planning to beat Minho’s tardy record while he’s gone?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Jisung answered. “I’m late because I didn’t get a wink of sleep last night.”

Something skidded against the rooftop floor, the sound of plastic wheels scratching against the rough cement. Hyunjin stomped and he was airborne for a moment, flipping the board over. It clattered back to the ground before he did and it creaked as he landed. He rolled past them with a smirk on his face. 

“Competing with Chan, then?” he asked. Jisung laughed but the eldest frowned.

The crooked circle shifted as Jisung took his place, slotted between Lia and the eldest with a small space between where Minho would’ve been. They were a tough crowd to gather but the absences never went unnoticed. There were gaps and spaces in between, and dead air where more retorts should’ve been. 

Changbin stirred. “So why were you up late? It’s not like you have anything important to do.”

Saeyeon bit back a laugh, the others snickered. For a fraction of a moment, it felt like a normal day on the rooftop. Yet Minho’s absence was noticeable. The savage remarks were his lines and they felt different rolling off someone else’s tongue.

Jisung blinked but he continued. “Good question, incorrect assumption. What I did last night concerns the absence of our beloved friend and nuisance, Lee Minho.” 

He pulled something out of his pack and threw it onto the ground in the middle of the circle. It fluttered, failing to land perfectly but he rushed up to fix its arrangement. Saeyeon tilted her head, glimpsing at the notebook from an upright perspective.

A portrait of Minho, she realized, was glued to the center of the first page with the words INNOCENT OR NOT written in bold red ink. Someone within the circle let out a laugh, another followed. Jisung didn’t seem amused.

“Is Minho really innocent or not?” Jisung asked. “Of course, we’re trying to prove that he is. So if there’s anyone here who doesn’t believe that he isn’t, speak now or forever hold your peace,” he paused, “Or at least until the end of my discussion.”

Not me, Saeyeon wanted to mutter but the words lodge on her throat, afraid of finding out that someone within their circle believed differently. Friday resurfaced in her mind, the long on Minho’s face when he was escorted out the classroom. She was around Minho enough to know his lips twitched before he lied, and he stared at his targets first before he made his savage comments, but he never flinched whenever he was caught red handed.

Saeyeon saw the bewilderedness in his eyes when the contents of the bag spilled onto his desk and the confusion that came after. She hunched that he didn’t do it, his reactions said as much but it wasn’t enough to prove anything else. Until another witness took the podium.

Whoever thought differently must’ve chosen to keep their mouth shut instead because Jisung continued. He flipped the notebook over and on the next page were the words ‘Who framed Roger Rabbit?’

Minho would’ve laughed before chucking the notebook at Jisung.

“Do you see what I see?” Jisung asked, head tilted up at something by the entrance.

Their gazes followed, a succession of head turns that would’ve left the rooftop door conscious of it had the ability to think. But it stood still and unmoving like the wall keeping it in place, like the small overhang that never really shielded it from anything. 

Not even a few seconds in, Felix said. “Of course, we can see the door. We have eyes, Jisung.”

“Do you know what else can see what we see?” Jisung asked, but he didn’t leave room for anyone to answer. He pointed at something on the top of the rooftop door’s overhang, half a black orb jutting out of the ceiling. “Behold the all-seeing eye.”

“Wouldn’t they catch us hanging out up here?” Lia asked.

“The rooftop cameras don’t work.” Heads turned to Chan when he finally spoke, quiet as he set the skateboard aside for them to focus. “Admin felt there was no need for them.”

“Dumb,” Jisung blurted. “But helpful for our current situation.”

Saeyeon remembered the first time the cameras were installed. There had been an influx of students getting caught; couples snogging in the hallways, boys loitering, corridor pranks, everything. She recalled how Minho easily found the blind spots, just as quick as she did. It never meant much to her until the need for a place to compose herself became a close to daily necessity. A part of her was thankful for the installation, even more so that it could be their leverage now. 

Beside her Jeongin’s eyes went wide, picking up on what the grand plan was. “If SSA won’t bother to find the true culprit, then we will.”

It was the last thing she needed to have the gears in her mind click into place; the peculiar gathering where no one else could hear, the need for everyone to be around—it all made perfect sense. The circle went quiet, an uneasy silence of perspectives not falling in line with one another. 

“How do we even access those? Isn’t the CCTV room manned 24/7?” Changbin narrowed his eyes on the camera, waving his hand even when it wasn’t recording.

“I’ll cover that later. For now, I need someone to scout the school to find all the cameras and where they are facing.” Jisung turned around, facing the circle again.

Hyunjin shot up, dusting his slacks off of pebbles that stuck to it. Patches of grey formed where he made his quick brushes, making Saeyeon snicker as he walked past her. “I can go and sketch a rough layout of the school. Is that cool?” he said.

“Anything will do, so long as it helps us see what the cameras see.” Jisung clamped the notebook shut, picking it off the ground to hand it to Hyunjin. Only to retract it at the last second. “You’re willing to help Minho out even if he wanted to cook you in an air fryer?” asked Jisung.

Hyunjin pursed his lips. “This is why I want to help so he won’t cook me in an air fryer,” he answered, snapping his fingers. “What’s not clicking, Jisung?” Then he snagged the notebook from the other boy’s hand.

Jisung made a face, biting back a retort before letting the thought go. He nodded then turned. “Understood. Seungmin, join him. You have a good eye. You could get the job done quicker.” 

Seungmin stood up not long after, wordless, following Hyunjin as he headed for the exit. “Nice butt print,” he said, earning a glare from the taller boy before they disappeared behind the door.

Jisung dusted off his own palms as if his work had been done but Saeyeon knew it was only one cog put to motion and the rest of the plan was still to follow. They’ve barely scratched the surface. She’d only witnessed Jisung’s skills at work once before, during the final exams of the prior year. One of their instructors made it a habit to dish out exams beyond their lessons; incomprehensible items, solutions out of their level of experience. Unnecessary, if you asked her, especially for a school supposedly focused on arts. Written exams have been abolished but the instructor had other plans. So did Jisung.

The enormity of their friend group was often more of a nuisance than a pro. Finding a table large enough to occupy everyone was a problem enough, but finding one where the people on opposite ends could still hear each other proved to be more difficult — all the while respecting everyone’s need for personal space. Though during times like these, when brilliant plans required more than a one-man team, it came in handy. The distribution of labor was often fair, made to suit the area of expertise of every person involved. Seungmin was always the perfect person to dish out first, no one ever speculated about nice guys. Pairing him up with Hyunjin maintained a perfect balance between mischief and staying in line.

“Now that they’re out of the way, does anyone want to burn down the chemistry lab?” Jisung asked with utter nonchalance, his tone carrying none of the gravity his words suggested. 

Lia blinked. “Burn down the chemistry lab?”

“Burn down the chemistry lab,” he repeated.

“What does that have to do with proving Minho’s innocence?” Chan furrowed his eyebrows, turning to Jisung. “Doesn’t this mean more crimes caught on cam?”

“It’s only considered a crime if it’s proven.”

The older boy tore his gaze away, shaking his head. “No.”

“If you don’t want to help, no one's forcing you to. There’s the door.”

Saeyeon’s eyes darted across the circle, feeling her presence disregarded with the tension streaming between. Taehee didn’t even glance up, eyes fixated on the pages of the book she was reading.

“There’s the door, bitch.” Felix whispered in a high pitched voice that earned a nudge from Lia and glares from the opposing parties. He shrank in his place, hand flying up to his lips to keep his mouth shut. “Sorry,” he said, muffled by his own palm.

Chan sighed, “All I’m saying is that it’s dangerous.” 

Taehee mumbled to herself but Jisung cut her off. 

“Drop it, please?” he said, his voice laced with its own annoyance. 

Saeyeon would have applauded him there for taking the pair of glares sent his way. But he doesn’t show any signs of backing down, nor do the pair make any more notions in arguing. He exhaled in relief. 

“Good, because you’re paired together and I can’t make any more changes.” Jisung rapped. The pair picked up on it easily, one frowning in disapproval and the other smirking in amusement.

“Is it in the burning of the chemistry lab?” Taehee asked, looking up from her book.

Creases appeared on Jisung’s forehead. “Hell no,” he squeaked. “You might actually burn the whole thing down. But you,” he turned, gaze landing on Saeyeon who didn’t expect her role to come this soon. “I think you can do it without anyone suspecting anything.”

Jeon Saeyeon. October 30th, Tuesday.

The objective of Operation Roger Rabbit was simple: get enough evidence to prove Minho’s innocence. The process leading up to it, however, was not. The only evidence on neutral ground was CCTV footage. With the council’s lack of interest toward a further investigation, the reels were free from their access. But that didn’t stop them from trying to get it.

The only hurdle they had was to draw out the man who manned the CCTVs. After days of scouting, Jisung concluded that the man never left the office — a lot more diligent than instructors he knew. He wasn’t sure if it was a one-man team handling the cameras, or a duo who were secretive enough to make their switches undetected. Whoever it was, they needed to be out of the room. Or in the plan’s case, the building.

Saeyeon knew of only one way to draw out everyone in the campus — by disaster. Any disaster warranted the complete evacuation of the campus, not really for safety protocol but to rid the school’s hands of the responsibility if anything bad happens to the students or the faculty. They couldn’t make the earth rumble beneath them, but they could stir enough panic to make the same impact. Phase 1 of Roger Rabbit was dedicated to exactly that.

In Jisung’s plans, Saeyeon never understood her importance until she’d been involved in a few. Turns out, the same principle that applied to Seungmin applied to her. The more innocent the face, the more daring the tasks, the less the suspicion.

The chemistry lab was a long hall on the fourth floor of the building opposite to their home room. It’s base looked exactly like the classrooms in Hui building. The tiles, however,  were newer and less tainted, the boards were porcelain white without permanent smudges. Long tables were lined up in three columns and three rows, topped with cylinders of different shapes and sizes with a burner embedded in the center back. 

The room was the length of two basic rooms combined, stretched out to accommodate the facilities the room required. Saeyeon wasn’t used to sitting in the middle row where half of the things written on the whiteboard were nothing but blurry scribbles from where she sat. The instructor’s voice was but a whisper, drowned out by the chatter of the back-row and the humming of the ceiling fans. 

Overhead, the smoke detector light blinks red — activated, as it always had been. Saeyeon’s task was to trigger it, kick start the series of events leading up to Phase 2. It’ll be over before they’d even notice. Easy.

Except it wasn’t.

The notebook Saeyeon left to burn wasn’t burning fast enough. The smoke whiffing up from the burning pages wasn’t funneling directly to the smoke detector. Even when she’d first heard about it in the plan, she already doubted it. Smoke detectors detected thick clouds of gas, but something this little would go unnoticed. At this rate, the whole room could smell like a barbecue house without the smoke detector reacting. 

The worried glances the others cast her was proof as much. They were running out of time and room to call it an accident. If she were to do anything, she had to do it now and fast.

A charred piece of paper fluttered off the notebook, glowing red as it swayed in the air before gravity finally pulled it to the table. Panic jolted through her and she reached for the paper. She flattened her palm, felt the burn of the paper against her palm. Biting down on her lip, she stifled a hiss. The world slowed as she panned her vision, hoping no one noticed. 

Fire. The burn lingered in her palm, straight up her nerves and into her mind. Her mind whirred, reminded of a time the same palm pressed too hard on an oversensitive fire alarm trigger and made the system blare for a minute before school security came. The goal was to cause panic, not necessarily to activate the smoke detector.

She had to start a fire, one just enough to stir a bit of chaos. 

Saeyeon fished out her phone from her pocket, sending a quick text to her friends before shoving it back. She then took a small bottle, a handy alcohol solution she carried around with her and spilled the content on the table. It streamed down the middle of the table, a puddle forming slowly. Then the bottle lightened, all it had to offer spread out onto the table.

Any minute now, she thought. 

As if they’d been keeping close watch, a voice called out from another table.

“Does anyone smell smoke?” Lia asked, sniffing the air before turning to the others. All the acting classes finally put into practical use.

Behind Saeyeon, someone shouted. “Hey! Your notebook’s burning!” 

She feigned her shock, panic-stricken as she leaped away from the table. She meant to stall it, to fake an accident and light the pool of alcohol on the table. But a blur movement nudged the pieces of their on going chess game, away from the strategy laid out for them. Someone dashed for their table, pulling the notebook from beneath the tripod and setting it down on the wet table — meaning to douse it. But the clear solution wasn’t water and the flame spread out as soon as the fire touched the flammable liquid. It sent the table blazing. Saeyeon flinched (fake) along with the others on her table (real), backing away from the fire.

“Fire!” Their instructor shouted. “Someone get the extinguisher!” 

Shit. Saeyeon’s mind reeled into panic. The fire alarm wasn't the first protocol for accidents, the extinguisher was. She cursed at how calm the instructor handled it, even with the rest of their class’ panic.

But a sharp ring shattered her thoughts, and when she turned she saw Taehee’s hand pressed against the emergency fire alarm. They were all on the move. Around her, the others were rousing panic. And though the ringing of the fire alarm was associated with horrendous things, she couldn’t have been more relieved. She heard classroom doors burst open outside and the hallways bustle with confused, panicked students.

“The chemistry lab is on fire!” A familiar voice shouted down the hallway, causing more panic than was warranted from the already dying flame of the middle table. Someone had knocked the fire extinguisher out of its place, spraying a bountiful amount of foam to extinguish the flame. There was no harm done, save for the peace of her mind. The fire was put out easily but the panic that it sparked was irreversible. Saeyeon glanced around and noticed that those who needed to leave were no longer in their places; no one by the fire alarm, no one by the back row table nearest to the exit. Another fire alarm rang at a distance, then another, a checkpoint for progress. Students have begun to file out of their classrooms, following the rehearsed fire drill routes out of the buildings.

A knock on the wooden door made Saeyeon’s head turn. The door swung open to reveal a student council member, vest and pin on like always. She wondered if Taehee and Chan would be doing the same on their way down, both for the sake of their duty and for the bluff they were putting up.

“Ma’am, I’m so sorry to interrupt but we need you and the students of the class to evacuate immediately.” Jihyo, the council’s vice president, said — her eyes bright even in the midst of panic.

The instructor clicked her tongue. “The flame has been doused. We are fine. It was nothing but a little accident.”

Saeyeon’s jaw locked and she hoped the exchange of panicked glances between her and her friends would go unnoticed. If the panic didn’t spread enough, the others would be left in the open to fend for themselves. Did other teachers have the right to refuse evacuation too?

Think, Saeyeon. Think. But nothing came to mind this time. She had a frightening urge to set the classroom on fire again but to do it twice was too suspicious to be called an accident.

“Ma’am, you can’t refuse to evacuate your students. If something were to happen to them, you — as their current instructor and not the school — will be held liable as I am witness to your refusal to evacuate.” Outside the door, the council member smiled, doing what the admin did best, washing their hands clean. Saeyeon’s jaw nearly dropped out of its hinges. A small childish thought crossed her mind, an idolization to be that calm and collected even under pressure.

The woman up-front clicked her tongue again before turning to the class. “Get out.”

One by one the class filed into the hallway. Saeyeon slipped out just behind the others, unknowing classmates asking if she was alright after the fire. She looked rattled, just like the other people from her long table, but for all the wrong reasons. She just did that. Rationality returned in waves of what could’ve gone wrong. What if the tank beneath the table burst, taking them in the flame along with it? 

“You alright?”

The voice came up from beside her, drawing her attention towards something instead of just spacing out as they walked the numerous flights down.

Saeyeon glanced up, catching the side of Changbin’s face. They made their way down together. She noticed the downward droop of the side of his mouth and she dropped her gaze. The sudden change of plans must’ve left the others disoriented. “Sorry.”

Changbin turned his head, looking down at her. He opened his mouth but pursed it back shut. “It’s okay,” he muttered. “Did you get burned?” 

Saeyeon shook her head, her rehearsed reply. If she were honest, she hadn’t checked yet. Her hands still trembled, still cold despite being close to a blazing flame.

“Good. We’ll talk when we’re out on the field.” Changbin leaped down the stairs to catch up to Jisung before disappearing down another flight. 

Lia fell into step beside her, rambling but her words droned out as Saeyeon’s mind wandered to the other half of their friend group that headed the other direction. There were only two main routes, one leading out to the open and the other further into the campus. She hoped she bought them enough time.

THREE. Byun Taehee. October 30th, Tuesday.

That was the best door dash of her life, if you could even refer to it that way. Her heartbeat hammered in her rib cage, her breaths were still ragged from the running, but she’d never felt more alive  — trailing behind the boys as they weaved through the hall full of students.

Like most things in life, the elation too didn’t last long, fizzling out the moment they arrived two levels lower where nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Turns out only the fourth floor alarms ended up ringing, the rest they had to ring on their own. Council duties, Taehee wanted to dash for the CCTV room. It turned into an obligation, knocking on every few doors as Hyunjin rang the alarms. Its requirement sapped the thrill out of it, she felt more like a delivery man than a prankster.

It wasn’t the last bullet on the list of things that went wrong with Han Jisung’s plan and she made a promise to herself to nag the boy about it as soon as she was done with her task. The last miscalculation — and the one she hated the most — was the fact that even after all that, the CCTV man didn’t budge. 

They were stumped when they caught a glimpse of the office lights still on and the hallway showing no signs of hearing the fire alarms blaring. Taehee chewed on her lip, brain working overtime as she kept her frustration in check while trying to figure out a way around it. Jeongin had long split from them and she hoped there would be some sort of delay to their cue but the fluorescent lights dimmed. Jeongin had made it past security in record breaking time, turned off the power switch and bought them the 5 minutes it took for the CCTV cameras to reboot back to full function. 

The only problem was the room was still a locked area on the game map, inaccessible.

“So, what do we do?” Taehee asked. Her question was met with silence. What did she even expect from an airhead and from someone she snapped at twice in the past few days?

Beyond what she expected, Chan replied much later. “Can’t we just switch the alarms the way we did on the upper floors?”

“Tried it.” Hyunjin answered. “They don’t budge.”

It was impossible to mask the disappointment hanging in the air between them. 

“We’re fucked. All that for nothing.” An emptiness seeped into her, the plummet after the sugar high. She thought of Saeyeon and the extremes she went just to get them out of the classroom, just to have them fail on retrieving what they risked for. All that work going to waste? Unacceptable. It was the only way she could get back at Minho and she was going to fail?

She was startled out of her thinking state when Hyunjin jolted beside her. “Not yet,” he said, hands patting his pockets for something until he felt it. He pulled a packet out, with a lighter to compliment it. “I have a plan. Sneak in as soon as you can.”

“When?” she asked.

Hyunjin paused half-way down the staircase, turning to look up at the pair he left behind. “You wouldn’t miss the cue,” he winked and dashed the way down.

He broke into a sprint the moment he reached the bottom floor, long before Taehee could process what he planned to do. She didn’t have the time to think of it either, all she was looking out for was the cue. They were way behind schedule. The cameras were rebooting and they’ll be airing again soon. If the man wasn’t out by the time the cameras rebooted, they were done for and caught red-handed too. They should’ve been out of the building by now, gathered at the quadrangle with the others. She was stretching the limits of her student council privileges, it would only be a matter of time before she got caught in her own web.

It was a shame she couldn’t talk about her worries with the only one who understood. 

Chan stood a safe distance away from her, avoiding her gaze just as much as she avoided his. It was bearable with Hyunjin around, she just turned to the latter whenever she had a joke in mind. Now, she stood in silence with a million thoughts raging in her head that she thought she might explode. Surprisingly, an apology was among them. It was a thing she noticed about growing up, she now wanted to make it a habit to mend things before they were ripped too far apart to be sewn back. But finding the right words were hard and she knew her pride couldn’t handle a rejected apology. So she sat quietly until the familiar ring of the fire alarm echoed down the hallway of the first floor, a sharp sound that made her ears bleed but she endured it regardless.  

What she didn’t expect was the rain that came along with it.

The sprinklers came to life and water poured out its spouts in droplets across the landing. In the floor below, the sprinklers activated too. The classroom doors flew open, groaning freshmen spilling out onto the once empty corridors.

“Come on,” she said, unsure if Chan would even listen yet he followed her down into the panic and into the pouring sprinkler rain. 

Taehee steeled herself, even as the water pelletted her face and soaked her uniform. “Please head to the quadrangle immediately.” She pointed an arm the other way, less about being concerned for their safety than steering them away from the CCTV room. Chan was doing a far more convincing job of being a panicked council officer; creased forehead, throat strained, as if he managed to trick himself into believing that the school really was on fire.

Finally, amidst the controlled panic of the first floor, Taehee saw a flicker of movement down the hall. The sprinklers stopped and her vision cleared. The only door at the other side of the hallway flew open and out the door walked a stout man, their target. A fleeting thought danced in the back of her mind along with the urge to parade having witnessed a phenomenal moment Jisung didn’t, even after scouting outside the CCTV room in the past. The man looked up to an instructor passing by, mumbled something Taehee couldn’t make out, and followed the others down the hall.

An opening, literally and figuratively. The man left the door ajar when he walked out, trusting the door closer to do the work for him. They had seconds to slip into the room and still a dozen more students to usher down the hall. Everything started moving at snail pace; students filling out seconds too late, distracted and walking like it was just another normal afternoon dismissal. The interval between ticks and tocks spaced out, yet the door was still swinging back shut in real time.

Taehee fought the urge to scream at them to move, to shove everyone aside to stop the door from shutting. Her reigns were snapping, endangering the whole plan and exposing everyone. Blood boiled beneath her skin, composure failing — they didn’t come this far just to be locked out.

Then she saw Chan. 

The boy stood a little down the hall, closer to the CCTV room than she was. He happened to pass the room as he guided another bunch of freshmen, making small talk even as he shuffled to the ajar door. For a fraction of a paranoid moment, Taehee thought he’d shut the door.

But Chan turned, looking down the hall until he found her amidst the students walking past. He raised a hand, signaling for the door subtly she would have missed it if she wasn’t watching carefully. Chan slipped something between his fingers, jamming the door to keep it from closing before casually walking away to usher another class. 

Taehee nearly let out a sigh of relief, stopping herself when the door she had been knocking on finally swung open. This was the last class on the floor. After them, they were good to go. She spared a glance up at the cameras when the instructor disappeared behind the room and gathered their students. No red lights yet, they weren’t too late. 

The moment the last student made the turn down the other hallway, they sprinted. Chan made it to the door first, grunting as he pulled the heavy door open. Taehee slipped in first, momentum nearly making her crash into the table at the center of the small space. The room was humid, the wetness of her skin sticking onto her with the heaviness of the air. It was a stark contrast to the first floor’s breezy hallways. On top of that, the room smelled horrible.

The fluorescent lights of the CCTV room flickered on as they studied the area. The power returning meant two things: they were right on time, and there was no turning back now unless they got the job done. A stand fan began to sweep across the room, blowing fresh air that drove the nauseating smell away. Taehee’s brain began to function again.

At the back of the room, two monitors stood adjacent to each other on a desk. One had a normal desktop flashed while the other showed a grid of camera feeds, as they slowly powered back on. Taehee’s hand found the keyboard of the setup, pressing arrow keys to cycle between floors and building. The outdoor feed rolled into view and she caught a glimpse of the chaos that they caused. 

The quadrangle was swarmed with students from all high school levels, roughly a thousand students filed into lines outside as instructors did head counts. She hoped Hyunjin and Jeongin made it out on time; less absences, less whereabouts to worry about. Her disappearance with Chan could easily be linked to council duties, making them the perfect candidates for the task. But they bore the most weight, getting caught meddling with school property like this was on expellable grounds.

Her stomach churned as her mind wandered off line, bringing up what could happen between now and their escape back to the quadrangle. Shut up, she told herself, shaking the thoughts away. She found the first floor feed after a few tries, cameras slowly powering on. The CCTVs were pointless during power outages, susceptible to others with more malicious intent. She’d suggest it to the admin one day, but not while she could still exploit it.

The camera to the CCTV room blinked, showing the current feed outside. No students, no one on their trail, no evidence that they slipped inside. 

“Laptop,” she muttered, startling both Chan and herself. The boy jumped, bumping against a metal cabinet with a loud crash. 

“Sorry.” They say it at the same time.

Chan crossed the room, opening the satchel he had slung over his body to hand over the device. Taehee propped it onto the table, beside the enormous pair of monitors and the control panel that came with navigating the cameras. She pulled a thick cord out of her pocket, paying thanks to the grandma who sewed her uniform who adhered to her request on pocket space. The computers were linked in two plugs and in seconds, she was sifting through the files like they were her own. She set her own mouse down, plugging its own drive to one of the other ports until the cursor on the screen corresponded to her own hand’s movements.

She headed straight for the files from Ahn Building, the central administration building bordering one face of the quadrangle. Every office that had something to do with running the school had a room or two in the building, including the student council. She opened all three files for the cameras on the second floor: two on opposite ends of the hall and the one facing directly at the double doors of the student council office. 

Her heart pounded in her chest and her fingers fidgeting but moving on their own accord. She ran the scroll down until the clips were dated October 26th AM. Skimming through the whole folder, her eyes spotted an inconsistency. There was a time jump between two files, longer in gap than usual. She went ahead, playing files from prior hours and finding nothing but closed doors and empty hallways.

“File’s been deleted.” She announced, slumping back onto the monobloc chair in front of the screens. 

Chan stilled, rounding the office until he was standing next to Taehee. The distance made Taehee flinch but the room was too small to keep them separated for long, the situation too dire to let pride remain dominant. 

The boy ran a finger down the cork board hanging on the wall above the desktop. He plucked a sticky note off the wall, it’s vibrant color standing out from the dullness of the rest of the office. “Says here ‘Camera Maintenance, 9AM - Friday, October 26.”

“Camera maintenance, my ass.” Taehee kicked herself up, hand curling on her mouse once again. She clicked off folders, finding the files for the other cameras in the same hallway. The stream of hopelessness she felt moments ago dissipated into thin air when her eyes found the missing timestamps available for the other cameras. “What a dumbass. Take a look.”

The boy took his own monoblock chair, dragging it next to hers until they both got a good view of the laptop screen. Taehee opened all quarter-hour files from the two other cameras in the same hallway. “They deleted the clips from the camera outside the council room,” she said, minimizing the folder to play video footage from another camera. “But they didn’t delete the clips from the other two cameras.”

The camera was perched on top of the library gate, focused on the entrance but its periphery included the council room’s entrance. Taehee dragged the seek across the screen, nothing. She did the same for the second quarter-hour clip and still nothing. But the third offered her the answer she had been looking for. 

At 9:43AM, a tall silhouette climbed up the steps from the first floor, stopping by the entrance of the student council office with their back turned to the camera. It turned its head often, gazing down the hall, retracing his steps and disappearing off the camera as he climbed up the third floor. But he returned to the door, glanced around one final time before he turned the knob and disappeared behind the wooden doors.

Taehee sat in silence, the clip ending before they got a better glance at whoever snuck inside the office. The invasion stuck true. No matter how much she hated the council members, the sanctity of the office remained — exclusive for those who worked hard to defend the students against the old ways of the administration. Not only did they get evidence that someone broke into the office, but they had enough proof that whoever did so wasn’t Minho. 

The next clip played, Taehee pressing a key down to fast forward until there was movement again. This time, the door drew open and the camera captured the pixelated face of the real culprit. Taehee slapped the space bar, freezing the frame as the robber made his exit with the paper bag full of money in hand.

“Doesn’t look like Minho to me,” Taehee said. Beneath her fingers, the laptop hummed as it received the files. “Let’s go.”

“Wait.”

Irritation seeped through her. As much as she loved snooping around, she wanted to lessen the risk of getting caught red-handed. “What?”

“Could you get the 9AM footage from the cafeteria?” Chan muttered, pursing his lips when he realized he sounded demanding. “Please,” he added.

Taehee scowled. She hated being ordered around but he knew his reasons behind the additional work. She obliged, clicking off and shortcutting through date files until she could copy paste all footage from the time frame with one scroll down. She dragged them off the opened folder, copying them to a folder on Chan’s messy desktop.

The clips flew by fast, each fifteen-minute clip got copied in less than a minute but every second felt like an hour with the paranoia of having someone walk in on them. Taehee’s leg bounced steadily beneath the desk, whether it was from the cold of her drenched clothes or the nervousness from their little crime, she wasn’t sure.

Chan stood up from his seat, cycling through the floor feeds until the screen showed the outdoor cameras again. As instructed, their class stood by the camera. Taehee breathed in relief upon seeing Hyunjin near the front of the line with an arm draped over Seungmin. Ever so often, they’d glance up at the CCTV camera, wave a bit like little kids seeing a camera like it for the first time. They were watching out for the red light to go out, for the reboot that signified that they were on the way back and to be expected. Everything else was going according to plan. All they had to do now was leave undetected.

She unplugged the wires off both computers when the copying finished, handing the laptop back to Chan and tucking the wires into the pocket of her skirt. If there was anything she admired about Jisung’s plan, it was how they left tampering with evidence as a last choice. Seeing as Hyunjin wasn’t caught in his get-away from triggering the smoke alarm, there wasn’t anything to delete. There would be no evidence of them breaking and entering the CCTV room either. Jisung relied on loopholes in the system and built his master plans from there, something Taehee could only assume he learned from Minho.

The keyboard rattled as she typed in the final commands. She clicked enter and all the cameras went static, ‘NO SIGNAL’s blaring on their screens. Unlike the 5-minute black out Jeongin managed to give them, they only had a minute to slip out the back, round the building and end up at the quadrangle. 

“That’s how you do server maintenance, stupid.” 

With their damp clothes, it might as well have been winter when they walked out. They returned everything back the way they were and hoped the puddles they left behind would dry up before the CCTV man came back. They exited out the back gate, into the building alleyways — the routes Minho once gate-keeped. 

Taehee never liked the cold but she marched on, teeth chattering as she pushed forward. The wind wasn’t helping her case, blowing through the narrow gap between the perimeter wall and the buildings. But she remembered the footage, the pixelated image that guaranteed Minho’s innocence, and she walked on. It was the least she could do to get back at Minho. 

They never clicked really, eerily similar to each other that clashes were guaranteed every time they spent too much time around each other. But there were instances of tranquility, hushed flames in the quiet of the night, whenever Taehee would come home late and find the door to their apartment bolted shut. Minho never minded keeping the restaurant open for a few more minutes or at least until her aunt’s anger was overpowered by concern and she’d finally be let in.

Miniscule in the grand scheme of life but the moments of kindness were few and far between. She always made sure to give back.

“Stay behind me.”

Chan overtook her when the alleyway narrowed to a one-person path. The coldness scattered, only touching her on her extremities. The sides of her face burned at the thought that he must’ve heard her teeth chattering. She wasn’t sure if he was blocking her from the cold or from whoever would be greeting them at the end of the line. Either way, she wanted to mutter her thanks. The words never game, just like they always did whenever she needed it.

“I know why you’re mad.”

Taehee blinked, wondering if she just imagined it. But Chan turned slightly, sparing her a glance before he walked forward. 

“Really?” She asked. “Good for you. Even I can’t figure out why I’m mad all the time.”

It was always a hopeless case trying to talk to her. Spewing out sarcastic replies was first nature to her, raging being a close second. But Chan ignored it, sighing. “I’m sorry for not defending Minho that day. I had my doubts, I hope you understand.”

She noticed him grip the lock of his satchel. “Who wouldn’t doubt him? That was some pretty solid evidence.” She looked away when she caught him turning again. “Sorry for snapping.”

It took so much of her just to admit that she said too much for something so trivial and understandable. But the apology was done, and she didn’t want to stick around to hear how he would respond to it. Judging from the smile she caught a glance of, she knew teasing was guaranteed. Taehee didn’t stick around to hear his reply, by-passing him and heading straight for the alleyway’s mouth and into the quadrangle.

She didn’t even get to sigh in relief.

“Where were the both of you?”

She jumped out of her skin, spinning in the direction of the voice. Its owner stood a few feet away, a cross-armed Director Park with a scowl plastered on his face. Over his shoulder were the others jogging to approach them, wide-eyed and worried. They were soaked, compared to the others. Taehee whirred her mind to life for an excuse but the words failed her. 

A nagging thought crossed her mind. Has anyone seen them on the way out? Did the cameras power on before they could make the slip to the alleyways?

“The council assisted with getting students evacuated. We double-checked to see if the rooms were empty.” Chan answered from behind her.

The look on his face must’ve been convincing, more certain than she did. She went back to scowling, it was better than letting them see through the cracks of doubt on her features. The director nodded not long after, stepping aside to let them rejoin their class and the awaiting remainder of their circle of friends. 

“What took you so long?” Jeongin asked, draping jackets over their shoulders as they walked back to the lines.

“Miscalculations.” Taehee answered, glancing at Jisung who was preoccupied with something else to notice their approach.

“Did you get it though? The clips?”

A sly smirk tugged on the corner of Taehee’s lips. “That, and more.”

FOUR. Seo Changbin. October 30th, Tuesday.

Changbin was never in favor of the whole plan but his friends were people he could never bring himself to disappoint. 

The entire campus was closed off for the day, subject for an inspection that wouldn’t discover anything. Students were sent home as soon as the head counts were finished, all including dorm students, which lodged their plan into a momentary standstill. They planned to review the evidence there. Everywhere else was either too far or too small to fit nearly a dozen people. 

So he offered his place.

The Seo mansion sat close to the outskirts of the city, where roads were wide and sloped and lawns  were landscaped. Lots were sold in billions and every homeowner had a company to their name. He hated this part of the city the most, even more that he had to live here.

“This living room is twice the size of our dorm room.” Felix commented as they filed into the house, flanked by two helpers that led them to the living room.

Comments like that made Changbin despise inviting anyone over. He never fit into the lavishness, never even tried to. His friends were a wild bunch but their movements were calculated as they perused the living room. It was as if inviting them over put an invisible barrier between them. He smiled, meekly, and turned away.

He only had to put up with it until they planned their next move. The situation called for it, they had nowhere else to go. And if he desperately wanted to see the evidence that Minho was innocent, he had to extend a helping hand. 

Changbin had been at odds with himself since last Friday, willing himself to be convinced that the boy was innocent as others insisted. But the evidence was strong, he was convinced everyone was being biased — as friends normally were. Did it mean he was a bad friend? Scratch that. He couldn’t see Minho getting out of this one. The older boy’s retched record just sealed the deal. Had he been less of a trouble maker, the triumvirate would’ve heard him out when he cried ‘set up’.

Changbin didn’t blame them, he wouldn’t have believed him either.

“Alexa, lights off.” 

Overhead, the embedded bulbs dimmed until their lights disappeared entirely. A few woos breezed through the crowd, he ignored them. He fetched a slim box off the couch before someone’s ass could crush it, balancing the remote in his palm before powering the TV on. The screen blinked and he turned to the older boy waiting beside him. “Screen is yours.”

Chan had his laptop propped on his arm, his free hand stretched as he punched in shortcut keys to hook the screens up. The LED screen shifted and the image mirroring Chan’s laptop screen came into view. A black and white sky full of clouds took up most of the screen with all his files tucked into a corner; school, music, and an unnamed folder. The mouse hovered to it, highlighted the file, and opened a window of serial-coded videos.

Changbin’s heart pounded in his chest. They’ve actually done it. He’d been uneasy the whole morning leading up to the execution of the plan. When the flame spread and lapped the whole table, he wanted nothing more than to be the one to grab the fire extinguisher. But the others needed time to make their getaways, ring the fire alarms and draw everyone away from the building. He sat quiet, nervous, even when he had nothing to do. The fear of getting caught kept his chest restricted, his mind extending to the others’ actions. His mind wandered to the extremes Saeyeon went, the anxiousness in her eyes as the flame danced over the stainless steel countertop, incapable of setting ablaze anything but the panic in the people around it. If Jisung’s plan had been wrong from there, he could only imagine the measures the others had to take to ensure they got what they needed.

The folder window disappeared off the screen, replaced by a video file. The scene was heavily pixelated, its setting familiar. Half the screen was obscured by grids of space bordered by thick black lines, the other half showing a red-tiled floor, a corridor and, far off into the distance, a pair of wooden doors. The seek skips ahead when Chan nudged it, falling back into normal pace when there was movement. A figure walked inside the room, remained there until the clip ended.

“Is that him?” Changbin was the first to ask it but the question was on the tip of everyone’s tongue. Heads stirred, glancing at the back where twin culprits stood unamused by the evidence. 

Neither answered as the next clip played. The same blank scene but seconds later, the figure walked out with a face bare, clear for its audience to see. The whole room paused; their faces, their breaths and the footage played on the television screen. 

“Lee Juyeon?” Hyunjin asked. His voice cracked as he peered at the screen, then to the back where Chan stood. The latter nodded only slightly. 

“From 11-B,” Taehee recalled. “That’s all I know about him.”

Recognition flickered over Lia’s face. “Isn’t he in the dance troupe? Causes ruckus, barely cooperates?”

Felix nodded. “Yep, that’s him. Remember the guy Minho’s always bumping heads with? That’s him.” Across the room Hyunjin nodded, both members of the dance troupe agreeing without prior discussion meant they were only telling the truth.

“Heard of him from Minho himself.” Jisung slumped against the couch. “Couldn’t accept the fact that out of all the juniors, Minho got to be leader of the dance troupe.”

“So do we go and show this to the higher ups now?” Seungmin asked.

“No.”

Heads turned to Jisung instantaneously, some confused and others eager. Changbin was the former. With the evidence at hand, they were already at an advantage. And things were finally looking up for their side, for the first time in a while. 

Changbin eyebrows were knitted. “And why not?”

“Minho’s still technically suspended, correct? For a week? Not yet expelled.”

“We hope so.” Jeongin shrugged.

Beside him, Saeyeon shuffled. “We already have a motive and evidence.”

“If you think of it, just presenting that information will not be enough. For instance, if you asked the question ‘How did that paper bag get into Minho’s bag?’ you wouldn’t be able to piece that out with that evidence alone.”

“I don’t know what you have in mind but if it involves setting the school on fire again, I’m out,” said Hyunjin.

“Is breaking and entering still on the menu?”

“Jisung.”

“We’re going to get that confession out of him.”

From where Changbin stood, the view was familiar. Everyone gathered in the center of the room, a concave with their mastermind in the center. His mind reeled in deja vu, a time in sophomore year where they were all in mutual agreement. Still, they were missing one, but if they succeeded now, they’d be complete again.

Changbin’s eyes wandered over to the TV screen, frame frozen on the man who’d disrupted their peace. Halloween was coming for Juyeon and they were ready to be his nightmare.

Seo Changbin. October 31st, Wednesday.

Day turned to night in a blink. Changbin spent most of his day picking out the best suit for the occasion; not too obnoxious but enough to be presentable. In the end, he settled for a black suit. A part of him yearned for a better costume but anything beyond plain would be too noticeable — too easy to commit to memory. He had to be stealthy, close to invisible.

Saeyeon greeted him by the school gates at 7pm sharp, exactly as they had agreed upon the day prior. She wore a knee-high dress with long flowy trumpet sleeves, all black just like he did. They looked like they were going to one of the lavish parties Changbin’s dad often attended, not an undercover mission during a Halloween party.

They walked up to the front gate. As expected, a pair of council students stood at attention, busy with checking bags and IDs and letting students in through the small gate. The line inched slowly and it took well over a few minutes for the pair to make it to the front of the line. 

“Welcome to SSA’s Spookfest. Please present your school IDs.” 

Changbin nearly burst out laughing. The strain in Taehee’s voice and the forced enthusiasm stood in appalling stark contrast to Chan’s welcoming aura.

“Lighten up, you’re scaring everyone off.” Changbin said, earning a glare from the other girl who scanned their IDs on the machine to check their attendance. 

They stood mirroring each other, two pairs in all black like a scene straight out of a spy movie. If it was any other year, neither of them would’ve settled for plain outfits, let alone having someone wear nearly the exact same thing. They had their reasons this time.

Chan turned and picked something off the shelf behind him, the promised masks for organizers and council members — their tickets to free passage and speculation.

“I’ll have this one!” Saeyeon picked up a mask, glowing Xs making up the eyes and a sewn in smile,  plucking the tag bearing Chan’s name off the side of its surface. 

Changbin glanced over the other one. A white mask with outlined features; dark eyebrows, round blushed cheeks and a mustache contorted up above a tight-lipped grin. “Vendetta mask? Poetic.”

“Wasn’t my choice.” Taehee answered.

Just as Changbin picked it up, Chan slipped something beneath the mask, fast hands immediately up and doing other things before the former could react. Beneath the mask were the subjects of today’s operation, freshly developed photos still bearing the smell of ink. 

“Good luck there.” Chan muttered and they caught each other’s eye, both equally guilty for doubting Minho and spending their days repenting, risking all sorts of things in the name of friendship. 

They slipped past the entrance. Two routes have been illuminated for the event, one winding down the woods on the way to the school gym and the other for the horror house which had been half of the Hui building. The fluorescent lights were wrapped in black cloth, barely lighting halls and giving the perfect spooky ambience. 

They walked up the staircase to the second floor where the maze began. The other masked folk uttered directions, where they — Chan and Taehee, they assumed  — were supposed to be stationed. They nodded but never followed, other plans in mind. They slipped into darker sections of the corridor, separated from the rest of the hall by a veil of black cloth hanging off nylon wires. The long hall stretched until the end of the floor, where another staircase led to the other floors. But Changbin spotted something, someone.

“Saeyeon,” he uttered, the name lost in the wind as he reduced his voice into a whisper. The girl turned her head, Xs clear and bright through the black that obscured Changbin’s eyes. “Is that Juyeon?”

Saeyeon eyed the end of the hallway. “I don’t have my glasses. I can’t see that well.”

Neither could Changbin but he could make out the silhouettes of the people ahead. Juyeon towered over them, standing out with a vibrant yellow top and a cowboy hat. A joke exchanged made the crowd erupt into laughter, echoing down the hall until they disappeared into the room at the far end. 

“Come on.” Changbin said. They ducked beneath hanging spiders and cobwebs, through a maze of papers scattered on the floor. The whole hall was unmanned, all the organizers inside the classrooms where the horror mazes were. Their screams were muffled behind the walls, coming in unison with the thunderous boom of sound effects speakers. 

They finally reached the end of the hallway but Changbin felt a surge of mischief, eager for a taste of vengeance. There, presented with an opportunity to retaliate, he couldn’t bring himself to hold back. Jisung never mentioned that they couldn’t deviate from the plan, especially when it was still in line with wreaking havoc.

“Grab a chair.” 

“What?” He could picture Saeyeon’s face behind the mask.

“Just do it. Trust me.”

Changbin dragged one of the wooden chairs in the middle of the hallway, tilting it at an angle where he could lodge the back of the seat on the doorknob. 

“You’re out of your mind.” Saeyeon said but she moved to find her own chair anyway, picking up one near the further door before mirroring what Changbin did. His cheeks brushed the inside of his mask as he broke into a smirk, proud that his partner in crime didn’t leave him alone in his endeavour nor attempted to stop him.

The doorknob twisted in front of them and they backed away. The door jammed, locked into place by an external force that wasn’t there when they first came in. He heard a giggle beside him, wishing he could see the amusement in Saeyeon’s face with the chaos they sparked. Whoever was on the other side was impatient, knocking, banging, and slamming the poor wooden door.

Then the classroom curtains were drawn. Behind the glass were three people, and none of them were Juyeon — all council members and they were furious. Changbin’s breath hitched as a flurry of muffled profanities were hurled at him. In the midst of his panic, he took Saeyeon’s hand and ran. 

They bolted past the chairs that littered the end of the hallway, turning right when they reached the staircase and  headed up — towards the floor they were meant to be at before they made their detour. They rose up a floor, and then another, until they were on the fourth floor. They passed by their own homeroom and headed for the one next to it, 11-B. When Changbin turned the knob it opened, making the slip in easy without him having to commit another crime. Technically, it wasn’t breaking and entering if nothing was broken, right? Merely entering at a time when no one should be. Borderline trespassing. 

The room was dim when they walked in, so as with the rest of the building. But this floor was unused, left in the dark. There was no light save for the ones outside. They didn’t switch on the lights as a precaution, a great idea indeed because if they did, they wouldn’t have noticed it when a beam sweeped the room. 

Changbin was yanked out of balance, tugged to the floor by Saeyeon. Thankfully, he didn’t slam straight into one of the desks, nor fell face first onto the tiled floor. He was crouched beside her, back against the wall as a light swept through the classroom again. The footsteps were loud in the quiet of the fourth floor, soles hitting the smoothened cement and bouncing off the walls of the enclosure. When he turned, Saeyeon had her mask off, face down on the floor. The neon lights bounced off the white tiles, but not bright enough to attract unwanted attention. 

Changbin didn’t know he was holding his breath until he let it go, mask discarded without a need to conceal his own identity. The footsteps disappeared and they were once again plunged into the darkness they were in earlier. 

“Let’s get moving.”

He was the first to pick himself off the ground, brushing off his slacks before offering a hand to help Saeyeon up. They stand with nothing but the light of Saeyeon’s mask illuminating the way through the maze of desks. The lockers leaned against the far wall, at the back of the classroom, a cabinet of nooks that occupied majority of the classroom. They walked through.

Saeyeon waved her mask over, casting a green light over the labels of each locker.

“What if he didn’t put a name on his?” she asked, skimming through names in the dim light. But the answer came fast, right as she moved down two nooks. “Nevermind.”

In lazy handwriting, the words Lee Juyeon were scribbled onto a laminated paper chip tucked into the label plate. The door popped open with one tug, its owner never bothering to put a lock on it.

They’re met with the smell of sweaty clothing, left to marinate in the enclosure. It made Changbin scrunch his nose, made Saeyeon fake a gag.

“Smells exactly like the boys’ dorms.” Changbin hummed, swatting the air to disperse the stench. He glanced over, lips pursed and bitten to hold himself from snickering. But it took one look at the other’s eye to have them both laughing, a mix of soft giggles in a darkened quiet room.

Saeyeon pinched her nose, stifling her own laugh. “Put the photos in already.”

Flipping his jacket over, Changbin extracted the photos from his inside pocket. He never had a good look at it when Chan passed it to him earlier. He took out all the photographs, spreading them out like cards on his hand. If only he could convince the graduation committee to insert one of the photos in the school yearbook when they graduate next year, just to embed the memory in everyone’s mind. Two of the photos were from the CCTV showcase from the other day, the other two were the same moment but taken from a different angle — one further down the hallway. The last printed photo was a zoom in on Juyeon’s pixelated face, scribbled with black marker ink. 

“He really had to.” He put the photo under the neon light, letting Saeyeon glimpse at the bushy-browed drawing they’ve come to know as Jureumi, Minho’s trademark character. He flipped the photo over and on the back, a message was written. Spill it or we will :P, a dead giveaway on who they were. It made him nervous. But what did they have to lose? The odds were never in Juyeon’s favor when he chose to mess with them.

They left the room as soon as the photos were placed, atop the pile of smelly clothing that would be the first thing Juyeon would see if he opened his locker the next day. They made the climb down, at ease after a successful mission. They thought their job was done, completely forgetting about the stir they started earlier when they stepped into the lower floor. 

“There they are!”

Changbin didn’t register that they were the ones being referred to until he felt Saeyeon stop beside her. 

“What?” He asked, turning his head to find a familiar face — the same one he saw on the window of the door they barred and the same fuming expression, except there was no door to stop them now. 

A chill rattled down his spine. They couldn’t get caught now.

“Run!” Saeyeon was the first to bolt, spinning on her heel to run down the staircase. Changbin followed, hot on her tail as they raced down the steps to the lower floors. They made it to the ground floor breathless but they couldn’t stop with footsteps echoing behind them. 

“Throw your mask and follow me!” Changbin chucked his own mask into the nearest bin before dragging Saeyeon down to the nook beneath the stairs where a wooden door led to the alleyways between buildings. 

Cold air nipped on Changbin’s skin as soon as he pushed the door open. Heads turned in their direction as they stumbled out. Someone whistled. 

“Couldn’t wait until after the event?” And a holler of laughter came after. 

Changbin couldn’t see their faces clearly, adorned with masks and hidden in the darkness with only the sparks of their cigarettes and the traces of smoke visibly seen. His ears rang. “What if you mind your ow—”

A sharp cough knocked him out of his own sentence, head snapping to his side to find Saeyeon fanning the air around her. He scrambled to find a handkerchief, cursed himself for not having one readily available. He sent one last glance to the shadows, ignoring the way they cackled in the dark. They run the other way, where they were meant to go, down a footpath with weeds tickling their legs. The narrow alleyway led to the back, behind the cafeteria and down the path leading to the pool and the school gym. No one was behind their trail anymore and tonight, without their masks on, they were just another pair enjoying the halloween festivities. The plan has been set into motion, they’ve set up their traps and it wouldn’t be long before Juyeon took the bait.

FIVE. Han Jisung November 1, Thursday.

Today was lull.

When Jisung walked into their classroom, no one seemed off. There was an unspoken agreement to never talk about what they’ve done on campus—a precaution in case of eavesdroppers. The day carried on like usual, but it was more quiet. The best seat on their row was vacated and the lunch games were called off. 

Jisung was nervous. For a mastermind, he sure didn’t have enough confidence in the plans he weaved. They’ve gone wrong time and time again yet he held onto the statistic that the final results always ended in his favor regardless. But it didn’t take the weight off his chest, nor the shaking of his fingertips. 

The plan had been set into motion, rather visible now with the photos that they left behind. He hoped for a confession, at least that much from the side out of his control. He hoped he scared the boy enough to have him admit what he’d done all by himself. The odds were low but Jisung hoped anyway.

The day was uneventful, a first after the last few days. They were all tired and a bit worn out, the quiet day was a blessing in disguise. Their unusual quiet was excused as either embarrassment or grief for having a friend suspended. Rumors about Minho’s suspension were no longer in full swing but his name was used as a reminder to anyone else who wanted to step a foot out of place. 

But as the sun completed its arch, sinking into the mountains beyond Jisung’s field of vision, they knew the bait didn’t work. If Juyeon was intimidated by it, he didn’t show it. And if he saw it, he did nothing about it; which was all sorts of fucked up that Jisung couldn’t understand. In reality, it was just another one of his miscalculations. 

The idea of putting the blame on someone for something they didn’t do made him furious. The suspension wasn’t withdrawn, no Juyeon presenting himself to either one of the triumvirate. He had his teeth gritted even as he walked out the gates of SSA. 

Today was lull until it wasn’t. 

It was bold for Jisung to assume they’d been left alone just because they were untouched within the perimeter of the school. He stepped out a little after dark to fetch a meal at a nearby convenience store but never made it back to their dorm.

Jisung didn’t know how to lie. A sign would be clear on his face, like a blush across his pale skin or a twitch of his lips. His eyes would widen, teeth would chatter visibly and audibly, and he’d fumble over his words. Which was why he always ended up telling the truth. Which was why he was the mastermind, not the players. Which was why when Juyeon showed him the printed photos, the recognition was clear on his face—undeniable. And he was glued to that patch of cement on the alleyway, unable to move nor speak.

“Did you put this in my locker?” Juyeon kept his head down, the photos clipped between his fingers as he showed them to the smaller boy.

Jisung swallowed, then wished he didn’t. “No.”

The photographs scattered with a flick of Juyeon’s wrist, making the other boy flinch as they flew in his direction. They hit him square on the chest; sharp, but not enough to slice anything and they flutter until they hit the pavement. 

“Bullshit, Han Jisung.” 

Juyeon tucked his hands away, burying them deep into the pockets of his sweater. Jisung watched as the boy approached in teetering steps, stumbling over his own feet and slurring incoherent profanities. They were both alone in the alleyway and Jisung wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Good because it was a one-on-one match regardless of how uneven, or bad because he didn’t have anyone to back him up. Juyeon towered over him, backing him further into the alleyway with his height alone. 

Then a cord snaps inside of him. He couldn’t falter now, could he? They asked for it in the first place. At least, judging by the clouded look on the tall boy’s face, their actions have made an impact. This wasn’t the reaction he was expecting but it was still better than nothing.

The chuckle that left Jisung’s lips was louder than he wanted it to be because Juyeon glared down at him. He wasn’t lying, right? He really wasn’t the one who put the photos in the locker. If Juyeon wanted to corner him, he wasn’t asking the right questions. “I really didn’t do it!” He raised his arms in playful surrender.

Juyeon wasn’t in the mood to play around. Jisung’s breath was knocked out of him when the other boy shoved him across the alley, stumbling back to the rough concrete of the wall behind him. His hands fly up to his neck where Juyeon had his collar crumpled in his fists. And for the first time in a long while, Jisung felt fear. Not the anxiousness that came with planning his elaborate schemes, not the paranoia that something was bound to go awry, but the feeling of prey being put into place by a predator — the thought that he wouldn’t make it out the alleyway alive.

Juyeon’s eyes burned with hatred, spewing a million profanities Jisung was no longer registering. 

“I know you know who did it. You’re going to tell me now or do I have to beat it out of you?” Juyeon managed through gritted teeth.

“Go on then,” Jisung replied, his own fury overtaking his fear, “beat me.”

The response comes instantaneously, a blur of motion then a strike straight to his cheek. It wasn’t as strong as he expected, but enough to knock him off balance and teetering to keep himself off the ground. His senses were clouded by the metallic tang of fresh blood; a quiff caught by his nostrils, a taste lingering on his tongue, a rip on his bottom lip. He ducked the second time, shrinking to dodge the intoxicated boy’s jab — one that could’ve knocked his teeth out.

“You fucking coward.”

Indeed, he seemed like it but Jisung was smart enough to not engage in a fight he clearly couldn’t win. 

“Lee Juyeon!” 

A voice thundered down the alleyway. Jisung thought he was done for. It could’ve been Juyeon’s back-up but when the taller boy flinched he thought otherwise. In the dim light, the storm in Juyeon’s eyes cleared — a wave of confusion dawning. 

“Leave him alone!” The same voice said, closer now. Juyeon was yanked backwards and Jisung broke free from his grasp. “The hell’s wrong with you?” 

There wasn’t room for Juyeon to stare down this time because Younghoon — as Jisung remembered the boy’s name — was taller. 

“Mind your own business, Younghoon.” Juyeon slurred, shaking his arm free of the other boy’s grip.

“Stirring trouble again, Lee Juyeon?”

Another voice called from down the alley. He strided down, taking his time to make it to the end where they were. Jisung kept his guard up. The others were still Juyeon’s friends and his acquaintances by affiliation. If the fight continued, he’d be up against three. But the pair turned their back on him, restraining Juyeon and dragging him away. Not back-up, Jisung thought. He nearly sighed aloud in relief.

“Sorry about him. He bolted out of the restaurant the second he saw you pass by and—“ Sangyeon trailed off. “So, are you alright?”

Jisung only managed a nod, his mind racing as it pieced what he’d gathered this time. They don’t know. The thought broke Jisung’s frozen stature out of the ice. Down the alley, Juyeon was still scowling, trying to break free. They don’t know. Because if they did, he wouldn’t be getting out of the alleyway with a mere gash on his lips. They don’t know. And it only made Juyeon more guilty as he was dragged off away from him. 

Han Jisung November 1, Thursday.

It took Jisung halfway through the way back to realize that he couldn’t show up back in the dorms like this.

There had been an agreement that the prank would be harmless fun but with serious intent to get Minho back and yet there he stood with a bloody ripped lip and shock that he hadn’t wiped off his face yet. Either way, it was better that he took the hit over anyone else. It had been his idea and they only chose to go along with it; either out of peer pressure or their own volition. He still bore the weight of it—the failures, the flaws.

It was clear now that Juyeon got the message, made aware that someone else knew about what he did. For a person thinking with his fist, Juyeon sure did pick up easily. He never meant to hide who sent the blackmail, he wanted to let Juyeon know who were coming for him. But he never thought of the consequences, never thought there could be someone else on the receiving end of that punch. It just so happened to be him, and he was glad it was him. 

The inevitable comes in tides that almost drown him. Their voices were a mix of words with no meaning, barely breaking through the wall of Jisung’s mind.

It wasn’t the first time he plummeted into a thought spiral; it happened too often for him to count. Most days he’d brush them off, drown them out with music plugged in through an earbud. But tonight they shook his skull, made his head throb; the voices in his head came louder than the voices around him. Every nook of his brain was rewiring, all thought funneling into one: the plan, and all the ways it could’ve gone wrong since it started.

Jisung never expected anyone to go with it, nor for things to go this far. They said the older you were the wiser you got, but this was by far the dumbest thing he’d ever come up with. From here, he could see a million other ways he could’ve gotten the same pile of evidence without causing that much chaos. It was over, true, but what if one thing had gone wrong along the way. What if they actually set the school on fire? What if the others got caught sneaking in? He was the mastermind of things like these but he was never the one to directly take the fall. And if for instance the others did get caught, was he ready to step out of the shadows and admit that he’d been the one orchestrating everything?

The days moved by so fast. One moment they were on the rooftop, the outrageousness of the plan warranting mixed reactions from the group. Then they were carrying it out, a million possible endings arising from each shift in their movements. Then they were gathered in a living room, watching the pile of evidence roll on a television screen. They had everything then, they just chose to drag the game out a little longer. Minho’s supposed suspension lasted until the week ended, wasting a day to plant a blackmail still gave Juyeon enough time to confess and for the administration to withdraw the verdict. They had everything, or at least that was what Jisung thought. Except they didn’t and maybe that was the reason why Juyeon wasn’t too intimidated, he wasn’t backed into a corner yet.

There was a finite time between Juyeon getting caught on cam and the discovery of the stash in Minho’s bag but the possibilities between both were endless. When the week turns and the time would come for them to present the information to the triumvirate, would the trio arrive at the same conclusion? Or would they see a collaboration between two members of the same club and put the blame on the entire dance troupe instead?

Jisung hated his thoughts, it made him doubt the things he did. Worst of all, it made him doubt Minho. 

He found himself in a convenience store this time, walking down aisles and staring at items that meant nothing to him. The fear was there, he couldn’t deny it. It made him resort to the safety of a monitored store where cameras could see what would happen if he were followed here. Everytime the door chimed, Jisung would look over and check if it’s Juyeon but it’s never him. It’s either an old lady, a child, or a girl in the same uniform? He ducked his head, slipping into the aisles with his head tucked beneath his hoodie. He didn’t linger enough to catch a glimpse of who it was, he didn’t want to know and he didn’t want them to notice that he was ever there at all.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

Too late. And Jisung’s thoughts are a flurry of relief and paranoia when he hears the voice. It’s familiar, not coarse and slurred like Juyeon’s. It’s calm, recognizable everywhere. It makes his heart thump faster in his ribcage.

Lia stood at the end of the aisle, head cocked to one side with a cup of noodles held up. 

“Lia,” Jisung greeted, hoping the shake in his voice would go by unnoticed. “What are you doing out here this late?” He knows she saw him first but she never bothered to make the first acknowledgment. Jisung’s paranoia was getting to his head. 

“Media relations shit, compiling photos from yesterday’s event,” she replied.

“Oh,” he uttered, his reply cut short when he caught her staring. Was his lips still bleeding? “Are you in a rush to get home?”

“Supposed to be in a rush but not really. Why?”

Jisung sucked in a breath. “Would it be too much of a favor to ask you to stay for a while and hear me out? It’s about the—”

“Got it,” Lia replied, “I was thinking about it too. Along with that little blood smear.”

Jisung’s hand flew up to his face, brushing the bottom of his lip where the girl pointed. The blood had already dried up, he hoped it didn’t look too messy. Lia disappeared down the aisle before he could even reply. He rounded the back of the store and made his way to the long table by the window. 

A pair of footsteps approaching made him turn and look up. “What’s on your mind?” Lia said, setting her noodles down as she took her seat.

“The blackmail worked.”

She turned, surprised, “Juyeon confessed?”

“No.” Jisung answered quickly. “He told me.”

Lia stilled her eyes wandering over to the gash on his lips before giving him a pitiful glance. 

“More like throwing accusations,” Jisung said, masking his embarrassment with a light laugh. “He asked if I put the pictures in his locker and I told him I didn’t. I wasn’t lying, right?” The chuckle he let out hung in the air between them, awkward and unreciprocated.

“Then he punched you?”

“Poked the bear. The punch was on me.”

Lia turned her attention back to her noodles, “So he knows we’re the ones behind it.”

“I think he figured out just as much. Didn’t know I was just as notorious for my sneaky plans as Minho was for breaking the rules.” Jisung picked on his own fingers, his anxiety coming and waning—relief receding and replaced with paranoia. “We could say the blackmail worked to warrant such a reaction but not enough to coax out the reaction we wanted. He knows but his friends don’t and that’s enough for me to know that he really did what he did with every intention that we’re thinking. But the question begs, will the triumvirate see the same when we present the evidence?” 

“What if Minho worked together with Juyeon to get the money,” Lia said, addressing the part of the plan that was still left up to chance.

“He wouldn’t,” Jisung wasn’t as sure with his words as he used to be, “but the triumvirate doesn’t know what we know. We’ve shown all our cards and what if it isn’t enough?”

“I haven’t testified yet.”

For a moment there’s a sliver of hope again, a beam of the sun’s rays seeping in through a roof of gray clouds. But he had already thought of it before. 

“They won’t believe you because you’re in the same friend group. It would’ve been fine,” Jisung trailed off, finding it hard to spill the reality of their situation, “it would’ve worked if you’re testifying for Saeyeon or Chan or anyone with a cleaner record but you’re testifying for Minho. That’s the worst record ever.”

Then we get more evidence to fill in the spaces. And if we could find it, spot where Juyeon slipped the bag in.” Lia said, but doubt riddled Jisung’s head. What if Minho and Juyeon had been working together in the first place? “Think. Where else was Minho that day?” 

“Cafeteria, classroom,” Jisung’s eyes darted to Lia’s as the pieces slowly fell into place. She stared at him, waiting for him to piece together everything long after she did.

“We’re not waiting until next week to hand in the evidence. We’re doing it tomorrow. If you disagree, do something with that gashed lip.”

Today was lull, the way skies are clear as a storm brews beyond the horizon. Soon enough, the tides will change. Even they didn’t know who’ll be caught in the eye or left standing in the aftermath.

SIX. Song Lia. November 2, Friday.

The silence of the hallways stood in grave contrast with the boisterous noise of the gym. Devoid of students, the school felt dead. Lia slipped out unnoticed. With Chan guarding the only entrance and exit to the building, it was almost too easy. She skirted out through a gap in the door he opened briefly, sent her off with a tight-lipped smile and shut the door back closed. She was alone again.  

The halls were barren but the voices of students haunted the halls she swore she could almost hear them. Or maybe it was just her head seeking for company as she distracted herself from the task at hand. Among all of the things they’ve done so far, she had the least risk in the legal sense—no arson, no trespassing—but it was the most crucial, capable of tipping the scales away from them if fate decided it. 

The office was occupied when she arrived, a pair of silhouettes exchanging bows. The secretary muttered for her to take a seat on the couch but the current client was already up and ready to leave before she could sit. The door to the inner office rattled and swung open. A small woman made her exit, tugging the door back shut with her leg in a manner all too familiar.

“Mrs. Lee!” Lia blurted, startling the lady. The lady turned, recognition setting in a little after. She was there that night at the restaurant, quietly calculating in the corner. In her arms was an open box and as Lia approached, she noticed that its contents were the amalgamated mess of Minho’s things—knee pads down to textbooks.

Mrs. Lee smiled back, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“Where are you taking Minho’s things?” 

The question hung between them and a surge of anxiety washed over Lia. She was overstepping boundaries and yet her curiosity wouldn’t let her rest. Minho’s mother sighed, as if she knew the question was bound to rise anyway even when she wanted to avoid it. 

“Minho will no longer be joining the junior’s class.”

The voice came from inside the room; a chilling tone, fierce and final. Mrs. Gong was a woman in her 40s, tall and intimidating but carrying the youth of one in her 20s. Her hair was always neatly tied in a bun and her buttoned down uniform polo always matched her skirt—the definition of a proper lady, fitting for a position in the triumvirate. 

“Ma’am?” Asking felt pathetic. Lia heard the woman clearly, but it was just not enough to convince her that it was final. But it made sense with his things packed Mrs. Lee here to fetch it. It was what they’d feared all along.

Mrs. Gong cleared her throat. “After a week of deliberation, the admin deemed his actions inexcusable and worthy of an expulsion. That on top of the other rule-bendings he’d done in the past.”

“If it were his actions,” Lia cut her off. Even with her head down, she could feel them staring.

“Ms. Song.”

“If I tell you that we have sufficient evidence to prove Lee Minho’s innocence, will you withdraw the verdict?” Okay, I did it. Now what? Lia never imagined she’d have the guts to say anything that fierce to one of the most powerful officers on campus. She nearly withdrew, her apology already on the tip of her tongue. 

“Ms. Song,” the officer repeated, her tone more ominous now than earlier.

“You will not deny my son the chance to be proven innocent!” Lia’s breath hitched, her eyes darting to the lady beside her who was seething. “I’ve already had my doubts with this school. Do you want to prove the rumors true?”

The words weren’t aimed at her but Lia quivered, her hands suddenly clammy. The moment of tension made the room go still, even the secretary seized to type on her keyboard.

Mrs. Gong exchanged glances with the both of them, thinking and evaluating what to do next. It was a 2-1 battle and despite her influence on school grounds, she was on the losing side. SSA’s reputation mattered more than the welfare of their students. If news of a student being expelled for nothing got out, the repercussions would be unpredictable. It didn’t take long for the officer to decide. Lia knew that despite the woman’s tough exterior, Mrs. Gong was known to have the softest heart among the triumvirate—the easiest to persuade, hence the reason why the plan was to approach her first. 

The officer glanced back at the duo before spinning around, walking back to her table. “Let’s hear it then.”

They filed into the room. Mrs. Lee set Minho’s things on top of a cabinet before settling down on one of the two chairs in front of the officer’s desk. Mrs. Gong cleared a space on her desk for Lia to set Chan’s laptop down. The device powered on as soon as she opened it, revealing the same desktop she’d come to recognize and the same folder with the video files. There were a lot more clips now than what was originally there. 

She sucked in a breath, sliding the cursor over to the sole clip with a different file name and clicked enter.

The screen blinked, redirecting to a different window. She double clicked and the feed engulfed the whole monitor, then the clip rolled. It’s a less saturated video feed, pixelated and occasionally glitching and on its lower left corner were a series of numbers. It showed a footpath and an interlinked fence, the one bordering the far back side of the campus. Minho was making his climb up the gate, the only part of the fence that was a meter shorter than the rest of the perimeter. Even then, Minho struggled, sitting atop the gate with wide eyes as he looked down on the ground beneath him. Then she saw herself enter the frame, head thrown back in a laugh before coming up to him to offer a hand as he made his climb back down. 

“That morning,” Lia began, right as a figure came into the camera’s view, “the new gate rules were implemented. Minho said that the school wouldn’t actually do it so he came in late on purpose. I usually come to school late, but no later than him. I got to come inside the campus but not the classrooms, he was locked out. He resorted to the back gate.”

Mrs. Lee mumbled something she couldn’t make out as Mrs. Gong narrowed her eyes on the screen. “What does this have to do with Minho’s case?”

“To prove that yes, he was not at the classroom that morning, but not at the council room either. In fact, he was nowhere near. If I told you about this without evidence, you would’ve just doubted me.” They moved out of frame. The camera shifted and it’s them from a different angle, a minute difference on the timestamp and they’re seen entering the building area through the back door. The camera shifts again and they’re seen entering through the wide opening of the school cafeteria, finding a seat near a wall fan that paned to them every now and then.

The screen split into four, simultaneously showing the feed of the cafeteria and the three from on the same corridor of the student council office. The videos were sped up, the camera feed uneventful. At the cafeteria, Lia could still be seen talking with Minho, their movements a blur while time doesn’t seem to pass for the other cameras until the one focused on the council room cut black. Then finally, the culprit appears on the other cameras on the same hallway, disappears behind the double doors and reappears with a bag in hand. 

Then the camera cuts.

“I don’t need clear footage to determine that that person is not my son,” Mrs. Lee said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I agree.” Mrs. Gong nodded. “Isn’t he from 11-C?”

Lia shook her head. “11-B. Lee Juyeon.”

A stunned silence fell upon them. Mrs. Lee sighed in relief, Lia assumed, while the other woman leaned back on her chair to massage her temple. 

“But I’m not done yet,” Lia continued, cutting off the officer right before she could speak.

Lia shuffled through the file of CCTV footage, finding the one with the most recent date—fresh and recently transferred. The window flickered on, showing the view from behind a cubic room. A mirror spanned the far wall and in the space in between were students, moving in hypnotizing synchronization. Even with the cameras on mute, Lia could hear the thumping of their feet, the huffs, the chants. Up front was Minho, center of the pyramid formation with his vision more trained onto other people’s movements than his own. 

Then they finish their routine, Minho calling a time-out before running straight for the exit which was a door at the far back of the room. 

“That’s him right?” Mrs. Lee pointed to a figure crossing the room. The tall boy passed by, dancing a routine with someone in the mirror but with a package in hand, the familiar paper bag.

It didn’t take her and Jisung long to figure it out the night prior but it warranted another trip back to the CCTV room to retrieve it. They called up the other pair that night, having them gather at the convenience store to plan out their next step. They were betting on little chances but it was a place to start. The whole Friday morning, Chan and Taehee were set out for the retrieval of the last piece of evidence they needed. They didn’t have the luxury of time to plan another way to coax out the CCTV manager so they headed in face first, charading as members sent by the higher officers of the council to uncover the truth behind the robbery from last week. The CCTV officer obliged, no questions asked.

The search didn’t take long either. Their hunch was right. 

In the camera, Juyeon slipped into the back row of dancers, cautious but not quite, heading for the back of the room to where the bags were stored. Then he searched through the bags, picking up a familiar backpack off the ground. 

“Minho’s bag, right?” Mrs. Gong studied the screen, recognition etched on her features, taking her back to the day of the bag check. “Why would he do that?” She slumped back on her seat.

“According to dance troupe members, there has been a feud going on between them. He took a blow when Minho was chosen as troupe leader by previous seniors. Not sure if it’s just that.”

On the laptop screen, Minho came back and they practiced the routine a final time. As the clock ticked closer to 1PM, they dispersed, bowing by the door as they made their exit. Minho was the last to go, picking his bag off the ground—unaware that it had been meddled with, before turning the lights off and leaving. Then the clip ends, and Lia finally breathes. 

Beside her, Mrs. Lee is muttering to herself, clicking her tongue, shaking her head. She must’ve been infuriated. Mrs. Gong didn't say a word to them across the table, instead she called for her secretary.

The petite lady shuffled into the room,  nudging up her glasses as she entered. “Yes, Ma’am?”

“Call an audience with the student council president along with the director. Kindly tell them it’s urgent.”

Lia felt her world go still, unbelieving that she heard the words. A final shot at redemption, a chance to turn the tides. 

“But Ma’am, there’s an on-going program at the,” the lady trailed off when she caught the look on Mrs. Gong’s face. “Understood, Ma’am.”

The officer turned to the lady. “Mrs. Lee, another deliberation will be held. Rest assured we will reach a verdict this afternoon. I’ll make sure that Minho’s expulsion will be on hold until the new evidence is reviewed by the others. If you could wait in the lounge?” 

Mrs. Lee pursed her lips but didn't say anything. She must’ve thought it was better than nothing, nodding as she muttered a humble thank you and walked out. The room was suddenly colder without her fiery rage, the bout of fearlessness Lia felt leaving along with her.

“Ms. Song.” It sent a chill down Lia’s spine, making her hesitant to turn her head but she did it anyway. “I’m going to ignore that you violated school laws by accessing this type of evidence and while I will be lenient, the other two might not be.”

Lia felt her relief wane, replaced by a growing fear of getting into more trouble than they'd initially signed up for. Would the school really overlook the good intentions behind their actions? 

“However, I am convinced by the evidence you presented. Minho was a frequent visitor, a nuisance on most days, but I don’t see him as the type to do something like that.” Mrs. Gong laughed, no humor in her tone, just melancholy. “He reminds me of my own son.”

The younger girl couldn’t find the right words to say anything but she knew the woman lost her son the year before and took a break off working for the admin. “I’m sorry, Ma’am.”

“It’s alright.” And just like that, the moment of tranquility passes and she’s upright again. “May I copy the clips to a flash drive so you can take your laptop home? Just in case deliberation takes too long.”

What else would you need to deliberate on? The evidence is right there! The words died in Lia’s throat before she had the chance to shout them. She obliged, letting the woman plug in a bar, copy the files from the folder and eject it.

“Dismissed.” 

It took her a moment to steady her legs when she stepped out into the lounge, Chan’s laptop clipped in her hands and a huge weight lifted off her shoulders. Right as she was about to exit the office, she was called over.

“You were at the restaurant that day, right? When he got suspended?” The voice came from behind her. Mrs. Lee was on the lounge couch with the box of Minho’s things sitting next to her.

Lia managed a small smile, “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Thank you for fighting for him,” the woman said. “I hope they withdraw the suspension. He really likes dancing. We were against it at first but he scored the scholarship and we just let him. He was still as mischievous as he always was but it was nice seeing him be passionate about something else besides messing around for once.” Her gaze was far for a moment and Lia realized she was staring at a cabinet full of trophies. Did she know her son won one trophy each year for the past three years he’d been in SSA? Then the woman turned to look back at her. “Come over to the restaurant some time with the others, will you?”

Lia nodded. “I’ll let them know.”

Mrs. Lee waved her hand as if to shoo her, another familiar gesture she often saw on her son. “Get going. Someone opened the door earlier, I think they were looking for you.”

When she walked out the hallways were bustling again, and up against the adjacent wall were the people waiting for you. 

“Symposium was cancelled.” Jisung was the first to approach her, the others following suit and crowding around her. “How did it go?”

“Cancelled?” she asked. “I thought it would take the whole afternoon.”

“Director Park was called off the podium and then we were ushered out. Symposium over, go back to your rooms. Postponed.” Hyunjin said, his poor impersonation warranting a few laughs from the crowd.

Lia let out a small chuckle before the events clicked into place in her head. “Oh my God.” 

“Why?” Changbin cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t leave us hanging, damn it. You’re making me anxious.”

“I just finished reviewing the clips with Mrs. Gong and she called for, she called for...”

Lia trailed off as she saw the Director walk down the hallway, fast and furious in their direction. Brian walked beside him, clad with the same stoic expression that came with the stress of being head of the student council. They bowed as they passed, disappearing into the door she just exited.

“She called for an emergency meeting.” Chan finished.

Felix pursed his lips. “So now we wait.”

“Well, I’m not willing to.” Taehee said, brushing past the others and approaching Lia. She gave the other girl’s arm a squeeze, a familiar reassuring warmth without her having to say anything else. “I’ll see you on Monday, yeah?”

“I have club activities too.” Jeongin frowned.

“Monday then?”

“Why do you all look so hopeless?”

“Realistically speaking, I could think of a million things that could go wrong from here but the thing is, it’s completely out of our hands now. We’re just here to hope that the verdict changes and it’ll be in our favor this time.” Seungmin said, the others nodding in agreement.

“As much as I think the verdict would be worth the wait, I say we wait for Monday. We’re all tired from the past week and well,” Saeyeon paused, “we tried our best. I don’t think we can help Minho anymore than we did now.”

They reached a consensus not long after, but Lia lingered outside the office. Minho’s fate was down to whoever was behind those doors. She let Saeyeon’s words sink in, there was no more helping beyond what they’ve done. She could only hope everything they’ve risked for would be worth it.

When the clock struck 4 and the office door remained closed, she turned her heel and walked away.

AFTER. Lee Minho. November 5th, Monday.

It was true what the old folks said: old habits indeed died hard, and as excited as Minho was for that Monday, he still woke up well past his morning alarm. He stumbled into their kitchen, full-blown bedhead hair with marks of drool staining the side of his mouth, whining at his mother for not waking him up earlier, even when he always insisted to never be woken up from his slumber. Especially on Mondays. 

It was also true that you turned to greater beings when you were at your toughest times. Minho was never a believer but after going through a week of having to work day through night at their restaurant, he was praying to whoever was willing to listen. I’ll study better now, just please let me get back to SSA. Trying to stay awake through a boring lecture was difficult, but trying to stay upright when you’re dead tired from cooking through the hottest part of the day was beyond him. He felt like he aged a year in the week he worked in the kitchen.

The devastation rocked him. As much as he hated having to lead the dance troupe, he missed it when it was snagged away from him. He missed the halls, the studio, the overcrowded cafeteria. The tall trees, the shaded footpaths with uneven steps, the narrow alleyways that smelled of cigarettes. Most of all, he missed spending his friends’ company and he thinks the reason they didn’t come back to visit him was because of how he acted the week prior. But his pride was too high to send them a message, embarrassment too deep for him to view their messages in the group chat.

For a day he was sad, it was unfair from that one singular stand point. Being framed like that was something he’d never wish on anyone. But if anyone took a good look at everything he did leading up to the framing, they’d say he deserved it. The reputation he built was on him and it was high time that someone pulled the rug from beneath his feet. For once, he had to experience being on the losing side for all the times he played innocent even when he wasn’t. 

But alas, the gods heard his pleas and he was at SSA’s gates again, swiping his card through the RFID machine and walking in. 

The feeling was foreign even when he’d only been gone for a week. Weird gazes passed as he hugged the first pole he saw but they paid him no heed, nor did their opinions matter to him. He walked up the four floors leading up to their classroom. He’s met with a warm, confusing welcome from the people who were around. Plastic, he nearly blurted but he managed a fake smile. He debated leaving his bag behind so he took it with him when he ventured higher. The people he wanted to see weren’t in the room.

He headed to the rooftop first, empty. Looked overboard to glimpse at the quadrangle despite his fear of heights, not there either. Until his feet led him down the flights of stairs, down hallways sprinkled with people getting the midday gossip. The gymnasium was near the far back of the campus but the walk there was never too tiring, always worth it with the right people tagging along.

Minho tugged the double doors open and let himself in.

And there they were, sitting on the bleachers near the east wing with their backs turned and heads together. His heart swells, stomach twists, awash with the joy of seeing them again but he keeps his face stoic because they don’t even turn around. 

“Really?! You were here all along?!”

Heads snap and turn, followed by a collective gasp before someone finally calls his name. The boys leapt out of their places on the bleachers, a blur of white as they dashed down the vinyl floor of the court. A cloud of chaos nearly knocks Minho out of balance, tackled and harassed, but he lets it pass. He couldn’t bring himself to say the words, but he was glad to be back here with them. Just for the day. For once, he was glad to be the center of attention, to be back where he wanted to be. 

He was dragged back to where the others were on the bleachers, taking their respective places and finishing off their respective lunches. Minho panned his gaze.

“Chan and Taehee?” he asked, easily noticing the absence of the pair.

A silence fell upon them, partnered with a nervous exchange of looks.

“I know those looks. Don’t try and lie to me.” Minho said.

“Called to meet the triumvirate.” Changbin answered.

Minho’s eyebrows knitted themselves together. “Why?” Nobody answered, save for another exchange of looks. “Don’t tell me they’re in trouble because of me.”

“Minho,” Lia muttered, but never got to continue.

The gym doors opened again, this time more noticeably. They rattled loudly in the silence of the gym. From behind the double doors, Chan emerged with Taehee trailing behind her. They stared ahead blankly, stoic, neither one paying any heed to the other.

Saeyeon skirted past the others sitting on the bleachers, using other chairs as steps down to ground level. “How did it go?” 

Taehee glanced at her, her face unreadable. But then their eyes wandered over to Chan just in time to see his facade shatter, his mouth twisting into a grin the second his eyes landed on Minho.

“Damn it, Chan.” Taehee spat. 

They all broke into laughter as Chan hopped the steps up to Minho, giving him a tight squeeze before sitting giddily beside him.

“Heard you were called up by the triumvirate. How did that go?” Minho asked, turning to Chan. 

Chan glanced over to the other girl who just shrugged him off. “They suspected that we were the ones who got the evidence to prove your innocence.”

“You did?”

“They were right of course. And we admitted to it except it’s against school laws to meddle with such things. It’s under grounds of expulsion.” Chan continued.

Minho stared, his stomach tied in knots with all the trouble they’ve gone through. “And?”

“You wouldn’t believe us.” Taehee said, snatching his attention away from the older boy. “Brian said he ordered us to do so. The fuck?”

“Same thoughts,” said Chan, “so I went and asked him why he did it and he said he knew we did it for a friend but it also benefited the council so it was the least he could do.”

“How?” Minho was out of words, overcome with a multitude of emotions surging through him. “All my mom said was you got CCTV footage. Was that it?”

They nearly break into a collective laugh again but Minho’s curiosity was genuine. Chan shook his head, pointing at someone in the crowd. Jisung rose up and a series of applause erupted.

“Thank you, thank you!” Jisung waved his hand around. “None of this would be possible if you didn’t cooperate with me. But what is there to cooperate on if there is no plan? So thank me because Minho wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me.”

“No one asked you to save me.” Minho said. “When they came for me last week, I asked them to leave me alone.”

Jisung clicked his tongue. “People nowadays. So ungrateful.”

Minho raised his hand and the younger boy flinched, shrinking back into the bleachers. Operation Roger Rabbit was explained to him in grave detail. From the meeting on the rooftop to a Mission Impossible-like strategy to get the evidence they needed, attempted arson, blackmail and pranks, One Punch Man encounters in dim alleyways, right down to the big reveal and Juyeon’s inevitable confession. It was far from what Minho’s mom told him the prior Friday night. He expected just as much from the extraordinary bunch.

He wanted to scold them for all the risk they took, but he’d been around them long enough to know that they were as stubborn as he was. Because if they weren’t, they wouldn’t be here with him in the school gymnasium where he thought he’d never step in again. 

His attention was snagged away when a flash blinked from his periphery. He turned right as another flash went off.

“See! First shot was the film’s seal.” Saeyeon plucked the polaroid off the top of the camera Lia held, fanning the shot in the wind before turning away. 

Minho scooted over. “If you wanted my photo, you could just say so.”

Lia laughed, setting the camera down and pushing its lens back and powering it off. 

“My mom mentioned that you reported the whole thing. Was it true?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Sorry it took a while, they wouldn’t have believed me if it was just my testimony. They would’ve said I was biased.”

“It’s alright,” he reassured. “What you went through sounded like a lot of fun.”

Lia glared at him, making him laugh.

“Happy your partner in crime’s back?”

“You really want to get involved in more crimes?” Lia asked. “Let’s stop, alright? We don’t want you getting involved in something like that again.”

“So, starting tomorrow we should be early birds?” 

“As we should be.”

Minho laughed, shaking his head as he rejoined the conversation with the others.

There was nothing permanent in the world except for change. There was a shift in the air of the dance troupe with Minho’s return and Juyeon’s expulsion in exchange. It was a loss nonetheless and Minho knew he couldn’t get everyone’s approval. But he just had to put up with it, maybe until the talent show at the end of the semester. The CCTV room didn’t have a coin-slot lock anymore, it had a real lock now with a key hung on the officer’s neck—no duplicate has ever been sighted. The council room had a chain wrapped around its twin door knobs now, looped like a figure 8 and hooked together with a singular padlock. 

And while some things change, others stay right where you leave them. It was in the way their friend group remained just as close, if not tighter, and the way he showed up again the next school day just in time to sign his name on the tardy slip for the nth time. Late was always better than not showing up at all, the world just had to deal with it.

a/n: this took longer to write than i expected and even longer than i planned it to be AHA. so much for a 6-chaptered thing (excluding prologue and epilogue). feedback is HIGHLY appreciated and would mean the world to me. leave your thoughts, i don’t really mind if you send a whole essay ;) thanks for reading! 

© neo-shitty, 2021

#minho fluff #minho angst #ficscafe #districtninewriters #kwritersworldnet #lee know fluff #lee know angst #minho x reader #skz x reader #lee know x reader #skz scenarios #minho scenarios #minho drabbles #skz drabbles #lee know imagines #skz imagines #minho imagines #lee know #stray kids #skz lee know #skz minho #minho #toff.writes

[jaskiersvalley]

The Title of ‘Broodiest Idiot’ Goes to....

Getting an invite to Kaer Morhen was less terrifying than Aiden had anticipated. At least, Lambert played it off as no big deal.

“If Geralt can bring his bard, Eskel his whatever the fuck Cahir is then I sure as shit will bring you.”

That was good enough for Aiden and he memorised the route up the mountain. As treacherous as it was, he really hoped that he would be making the trip again, maybe even before Lambert so he could surprise him. Just before they walked into the old keep, Lambert grabbed his elbow.

“Just one more thing. Don’t get too broody in there, okay?”

An odd request for sure but Aiden nodded. If that was the price of winter with Lambert, he could be the least broody fucker out there. With a sunny smile and his best disposition on show, Aiden followed Lambert into the Wolves’ den.

As far as first meetings went, it was pretty damn good. Aiden smiled, shook hands, even got a hug from Jaskier along with a murmur of “oh thank fuck for another grumpy fuck” which was just rude. Before he could frown and mull over it, Lambert dug an elbow into his side and the cheerful grin was back in full force.

Evening came, dinner was a noisy affair full of cursing and jostling but it was all good natured. Aiden found he felt very much at home. Bedtime seemed to be hotly anticipated by all and there was no late night shenanigans. At least, not until everyone retired to bed and Lambert was veritably vibrating with excitement.

“I’m guess you’re not this thrilled about having me and my dick in your bed,” Aiden grumbled.

“That’s a close second.” Listening for something, Lambert seemed more alert than he had all evening. “Alright, let’s go.”

Mystified, Aiden followed Lambert who shushed him but also grinned. “It’s tradition.”

Tradition, it turned out was the raiding of the hen coop in the middle of the night. Aiden watched as Lambert quietly sneaked in murmuring at the disgruntled hens and searching around until he found an egg. Triumphantly, he stepped out, holding it aloft.

“Now it’s your turn. No signs, you have to keep the hens quiet like a human would, to keep the game fair and all that.”

It made no sense but Aiden did as told and, after a bit of unfamiliar searching, he found an egg too. As he stepped out, he caught sight of Cahir, hanging back and watching them. Even better, Eskel loomed behind him. No words or even acknowledgement of their presence was made and Aiden tried to figure out just what they were up to.

“It’s better to get in early,” Lambert was explaining in a whisper. “Later means better chances of success but you run the risk of there not being an egg left.”

A finger against his lips, Lambert reminded Aiden to be quiet as they approached a door. From inside, there was the sound of two heartbeats, not quite sleep slow yet. While Lambert tried to melt into the shadows, Aiden knew it was useless, maybe with a human it would work but Geralt would spot them almost immediately. Except, nobody ever looked up, that was something Aiden knew for sure. Looking around, he spotted the perfect hiding spot and clambered up, wedging himself between the walls like some awkward bridge. Lambert’s eyes lit up and, with somewhat less grace, he took up the same position too, egg carefully clutched in one hand. Hopefully they weren’t going to have to stay there all night until they could pelt the others.

Thankfully that didn’t happen. Not half an hour later Geralt and Jaskier were sneaking out, giggling as they went. Aiden watched Lambert roll his eyes and drop down on silent feet once they were round the corner. It was quick, if confusing work to stash the eggs on Geralt’s side of the bed and run back to their own room which was blissfully egg free.

No explanation ever came forth about the game but Aiden picked up the rules pretty quick. Everyone had to decide who the broodiest one was of the day. Then, they could each take an egg from the coop and put it in the bed of the person they deemed broodiest. Whoever ended up with most eggs by the morning had to make breakfast. Needless to say, it was almost always Geralt. Not that Aiden had anything against that, Geralt happened to make excellent breakfasts. The biggest challenge was to sneak the eggs into his bed on nights where Aiden and Lambert were late to the coop so Geralt and Jaskier had already cast their vote. If caught, the egg counted against the person who wasn’t skilful enough to place it. Aiden soon mastered the art of slipping an egg under the cover by Geralt’s feet. Only once did he manage to get it under his back and then there was no end ot Jaskier’s wailing about waking up in egg juices.

Of course, it couldn’t always be Geralt. Aiden had caught Cahir trying to sneak an egg into his bed more than once and it led to a really weird stare-off until Lambert snapped that if they were going to eye fuck, could they do it more quietly. That afternoon Eskel cornered Aiden and rather kindly informed him that sharing was a two way thing, if he expected Eskel and Cahir to play, both Lambert and Aiden had to be willing too. Which was a lot to think about but Aiden was starting to think he was willing.

The unthinkable happened one day. As far as Aiden was concerned, Geralt wasn’t the broodiest that day. In fact, it was Vesemir. Surely the others noticed but nobody commented so he assumed it was another rule he hadn’t been made aware of. That night, Aiden managed to sneak out and snagged an early egg. Oddly, there was nobody around waiting to get an egg of their own. It didn’t matter, he pushed on, slipping into Vesemir’s room and grinning when he was met with a snore. Easy pickings. Aiden deposited the egg carefully, making sure it wouldn’t get broken and he returned to bed.

In the morning, he bounded down the stairs with Lambert, keen to see who got the most eggs. They had woken up without a single one which meant the general consensus was more in agreement than usual. They walked into the kitchen where the others were already sat at the table. However, there was no food. Everyone was staring silently at the spot on the table in front of them in silence. Of course Lambert and Aiden were the last to arrive and they sat, not needing anyone to prompt them.

“Now that we’re all here,” Vesemir said gravely but he didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he pulled a single egg from his robe and set it on the table in front of him. Nobody moved, nobody even wanted to look at the egg. Aiden felt his stomach drop. He’d fucked up. It wasn’t the kind of fear he’d experienced on the Path, nor during training. This was something new and it tickled his throat. A nervous laugh erupted from his chest. It seemed to be enough to start the others off too and titters went up around the table. Even Vesemir cracked a smile.

“Guess I’ll make breakfast,” Aiden volunteered. He was surprised when Cahir stood up to.

“They did this to me too the first year I was here. I’ll help cook.”

Even better, Eskel draped an apron around Cahir’s neck that said ‘kiss the cook’. As he left the kitchen, he gave Aiden a wink. Well then, Aiden thought as he sought out Lambert’s reaction and got a smirking nod, he had breakfast to make and a cook to kiss.

#lambden #eskhir #geraskier #geralt/jaskier #aiden/lambert #eskel/cahir #eskel/lambert/cahir/aiden #geralt of rivia #jaskier #lambert #eskel #aiden #Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach #vesemir #wolves of kaer morhen #tldr: training can be fun

[lananiscorner]

Anon said “you know what would be more stupider than dark knight Lin? Dancer dedue let’s go”

Also for the fe questions, 1,6 and 9 :3!

Thanks for your ask, Anon! I am going to tuck question 6 beneath a read more line, since I know at least one of my followers hasn't played the DLC yet.

1 - Favourite house, and why?

The Blue Lions. Oh my gods, the Blue Lions:

- There is not a single character in this house that I actively dislike.

- As a matter of fact, Dimitri is my favorite ever. Dedue, Felix and Mercedes are also among my favorites, even if Felix is Problematic™ in many ways. As a matter of fact, he's the perfect example of a character I love as a character, even though I probably could not stand him in real life. Annette and Ingrid are both very relatable to me (I was Annette when I was in school and I can relate to Ingrid in many ways now). Ashe and Sylvain are also good. Gilbert grew on me after a while.

- Azure Moon feels like the only route where there is actually a war going on. You know. With actual consequences.

- AM has the most emotionally gripping story.

- I live for traumatized found families in fiction.

- In between Falcon Knight Ingrid, Swordmaster Felix and Dimitri’s battalion shenanigans, this house is pretty unstoppable.

- House of DILFs (On this blog we stan Lambert and Rodrige. And Lambert & Rodrigue. And Lambert/Rodrigue.)

- Queer subtext house.

9 - Favourite route (gameplay wise) and why?

Can I say White Clouds or Cindered Shadows? Because White Clouds had the most interesting maps, imo, and Cindered Shadows had interesting maps + an amazing final boss + interesting restrictions on classes/gear.

No? Okay, um… Verdant Wind. Hunting by Daybreak is one of my favorite “oh damn” moments in this game, Aillel is a hot mess (pun intended), Gronder 2.0 is great (although it should have been a fog map, imo, infuriating as it would have been), Fort Merceus had so many moving pieces to keep track of, Enbarr/Imperial Palace are great for Stride/Warp shenanigans while still letting me use my favorite movement type (cavalry) without getting hindered by bushes or sand every step, Shambala is very unique (and potentially very painful if you don’t know in advance that Thales has Quake and you need to kill him before he gets a hit in), Nemesis and his 10 Elites hit hard. This is the only swamp draining I stan. (Caveat here: I have not yet played Silver Snow’s final map, although I’ve read up on what awaits me).

Also, a word on paralogues, even though most of them are not route exclusive: Claude has the most infuriating but also most fun paralogue of all the lords, what with all the enemies scattered across the DESERT. Leonie & Linhardt's is hilarious--like, Leonie is there just straight up "thanks bro"ing a dragon-shifter saint and I like the mechanics of the paralogue acknowleding that taking Edelgard to fight a dragon is not a great idea. Marianne's is just all around amazing, yes, I actually like the fog, so what? Raphael & Ignatz + Lorenz's tie nicely into one another and you get a busted relic + a lot of goodies from the merchants.

6 - Favourite Ashen Wolves student, and why?

Constance. I have dealt with a lot of alpha bitches in my life and not in good ways, usually, so for this game to make me love an alpha bitch is quite an achievement. Constance is arrogant, over the top and full of herself, but she still cares about the people around her, and no matter how rough things get for her, she just does not give up. She misses Yuri’s sarcasm, so she invents a spell that turns boots into licorice to make boot-licking less awful. She invents her own spells, which is something no-one else in this story does!--but they all come with a catch/are kind of useless. She has a hidden talent in brawling and goes off on people who demean her commoner friend Hapi. She is similar to Lorenz, but more likeable and interesting, imo. Then there’s her sunny side, which is a fountain of both hilarity and tragedy. She makes a great Dark Flier or Gremory and Bolting + Rescue is just so goddamn useful. I love Constance, okay?

#Fire Emblem: Three Houses #FE3H #asks #anon #FE3H ask meme #favorite FE3H house #favorite FE3H route #Blue Lions #Verdant Wind #favorite Ashen Wolves student #Constance von Nuvelle

[some-dr-writings]

Kokichi, Rantaro, and Shuichi x SHSL Military General Reader

Kokichi Oma:

·       The Super High School Level Military General, that title sounded to be a mere invitation for a challenge to Kokichi. The moment he heard of you, your reputation of being so cold and distant, more stoic and silent than even stone, he knew you were his next target. He was determined to get you to crack that façade somehow!

·       There was just one problem.

·       No matter what he pulled you always either didn’t react, or effortlessly avoided it. You had to have some weakness. He just needed to snuff it out! And so that was how Kokichi began to follow you. The moment you exited class he’d be there to greet you at the door with some prank, after which he’d momentarily complain about how you were emotionless in a joking tone before hugging your arm talking nonstop about anything and everything that slipped through his mind. Not once did you ever utter a word or make a sound during these encounters.

·       One day after class you sat in the library, studying for an upcoming test. “Ugh, Y/N, this is soooo boring. We don’t even need to study at this school, just improve our talents. What are you dooooing?” You simply jotted down some notes before flipping to the next page in the textbook. Groaning he took out a drawing pad and crayons and started scribbling on it. Loudly humming he worked away, even when in the corner of his eye he saw how you had closed your text book, daintily placing the book onto your lap, your hands properly held atop one another on the cover of the book. “… Give Tojo Kirumi a task in the gym.” “Ah HAH! You do speak!” You stared at him, standing on the table, pointing, his finger touching the tip of your nose. “… Tomorrow is Tuesday. Normally she’d be doing laundry by eight, but yesterday Yasuhiro Taeke, more commonly known as Ludenberg Celestia, will be hosting a card gaming tournament at the behest of the principle since a well renowned group of talent agents will be coming here. Tojo Kirumi will be asked to assist with setting up the hall. In order to get as many of your targets as possible give her a request immediately before nine. That will lead both Yasuhiro Taeke and the talent agents to the sight of your prank and keep Tojo Kirumi from intervening and cleaning up the aftermath too soon after your prank is ignited.” So, a peak into the mind of the SHSL Military General.

·       Since that day you would occasionally speak to Kokichi, it was always abrupt and short, but it was always to assist in his scheming and nothing else.

·       Eventually Kokichi got bored following you, saying it wasn’t fair that you two only ever did what you wanted so he’d begin to drag you around. You never resisted, not even once. Kokichi didn’t think much of this, just that you likely went along since it was the better option than fighting against it.

·       Then he realized that was not the case.

·       You and he were meandering around the school festival, Kokichi making fun of the sad horror house effects much to Korekiyo’s chagrin. It was then one of the students from your class told you things had gone array at your booth, and they needed your help. They were about to take your hand and lead you there when you jerked your hand away, a harsh snap sound cracking the air. You look down at them with a cold steelie gaze and in an intimidating, confident voice you said “No.” Then you began to walk away at a brisk pack. “Come now, I know you can keep up.” And that same tone immediately got your classmate to walk in time with you, in your exact stride too. Not long later you returned to the haunted house where Kokichi still was. “Y/A What was that all about? Wait! Hey, hey! That’s your weakness, isn’t it! Tell me, tell me. It’s your weakness! Come on! Just admit it!” You didn’t do a thing for a moment before taking his hand. “Letting one of my soldiers lead the way would be a sign of weakness. The same however can not be stated about the closest thing I have to a friendship with another.” “… Aw~ You think of me as a friend? That’s so sweet!” … closest thing you had to friendship… What exactly was your life like before entering Hope’s Peak, he wondered. He had some guesses… Likely awfully lonely. But that’s exactly why he’s here. Kokichi is a clown, and he was determined still to get a reaction out of you.

·       It was strange. For the longest time he thought your stoicism was a façade, but truthfully that was just how you were. It just made the moments when he did get a reaction all the more special and mesmerizing. He wanted to be there to see each and every one of your little reactions. “Hey, Y/N!” He let go of your hand, spinning around and stopping before you. “Want to go out with me?”

·       You blushed.

·       Your eyes slightly widened, your posture laxed and your hands held the hem of your shirt. “I… l-like a date?” “Nishishi.” Your blush swiftly spread to the tips of your ears as Kokichi took your hands into his own. “Heh, who knew. Honesty is your weakness.” Suddenly he started skipping away, still holding one of your hands. “For a liar like me, this might be difficult but, if being honest with my feelings plucks at your heart strings, I guess I have no choice.” Seemingly out of nowhere Kokichi had a megaphone in hand and held it up to himself before taking a deep breath. “HEY WORLD! I’M IN LOVE WITH Y/N!” “Ah, O-Oma! I- uh Yes? I’d like to go out, b-but…” You covered your face with both of your hands, too embarrassed and loving how Kokichi smiled, continuing to announce his love for you to the world.

·       Equal opposites yet exactly the same you and Kokichi seemed to be a reflection of one another. You almost unemotive and Kokichi very emotive. Both of you were fantastic leaders always trying to manipulate the world as to protect your own even if it meant manipulating them too. As the Ultimate Supreme Leader and Ultimate Military General, nothing could stand in your way. You could own the whole world if you wished. Luckily for the world, all you wanted was for all you cared about to be safe and happy. Safe under both of your watchful eyes and happy at the silly shenanigans you’d plan out for your own but mostly other’s amusement. After all the fighting you had been through it was therapeutic to use your skills outside of fighting and perhaps… that was Kokichi’s goal the whole time. Maybe, for as smart and clever as you were, you were outmatched by the emotionally intelligent Kokichi. Whatever his true intentions he had for approaching you that even he possibly didn’t know, you were still together and something you were forced to accept as a Military general is that sometimes it matters not how you reach a goal, just the end result and though that thought often weighed heavily upon you, maybe just this once, a single clown had helped you lift up and carry that burden, even changing it to something lighter. Something with no blood, just tomfoolery. And… after all you had been though, it was like a dream to have it be this way.

   Rantaro Amami:

·       The pair of you had met only once before joining Hope’s Peak. Rantaro had stumbled upon a training camp you were temporarily heading. Impressed he was even able to make it there since it was near impossible to get through those snowy ranges without a helicopter or some way to just skip over manually trekking through the dangerous terrain, you allowed him to rest for the night after thoroughly checking he didn’t have anything dangerous or was a spy that is. Promptly the moment the sun rose you kicked him out, but he was still appreciative you let him stay at all. So when he saw you at the entrance ceremony he took the opportunity to thank you since you never gave him the chance to back then.

·       Since that day whenever Rantaro was at school and not traveling he’d make sure to spend time with you. You never spoke much mostly keeping to yourself or intervening into our class’ affairs should a leader be helpful, even so Rantaro would still chat with you. That was actually something he quite liked about you. The few times you did speak, there was always purpose and power behind it. No matter what was happening, even if you quietly muttered a single short word, you’d instantly garner the attention of all those around you and even if they were preoccupied with something else, you did not need to repeat your words, for they already knew what they were.

·       Others always though the two of you to be a strange pair. You were strict and up tight while Rantaro was more relaxed and laid back. Seemingly opposites, yet you did have a common thread. Nurturing. Rantaro, often his big brother instincts would kick in and he’d comfort and help just about anyone, even if he wasn’t all to great at the task at hand. You on the other hand always push those around you to their limit, motivating them to work as hard as they could independently while still being good team players. Rantaro more so focused on being the emotional side or being the rock others could lean on while you were their leader, assisting them in finding the best plan of attack that was most efficient but least costly on materials whether it be monetary or their health, you took all that into consideration as costs. A mentally damaged soldier can’t properly fight with their everything after all.

·       Sometimes when Rantaro was planning his next trip away from school you’d join him. “If you cut through the mountains, you’d have a direct path to the town.” “Well… Yeah, but I don’t know. There’s supposed to be wolves there.” “You said the town you’re coming from is known for fishing.” “Yeah.” “Surely one of them would have a boat or shipping route you can hitch a ride on. There’s a large river that cuts through the mountains, unless there’s white rapids I’m sure someone uses it for transport. If not, with your persuasion skills I’m sure you can convince someone to do so.” “Persuasion skills? I don’t know about that, but thanks.” You looked to him with that icy glare, one that would make most anyone flinch, but not Rantaro. His regular demeanor was just so calm and relaxed he was one of the few people who was unaffected by it. “Never doubt yourself. Hesitating for a moment will get you killed.” Rantaro simply smiled with his eyes closed, patting you on the head. “Okay, I won’t. Thank you.” “ah!... don’t, don’t patronize me. We’re friends, don’t treat me of a lower station, we’re equals.” “Huh?” He looked to you in confusion. There was still power in your voice, but did it waver? Your cheeks and tips of your ears were dusted with a bright pink. He retracted his hand. “Sorry, I wasn’t doing that. I forgot you don’t like touch. It’s a habit I guess.” “… Please refrain from doing so in the future. It’s common practice to treat a child in such a way. Not to say children are lower than us, but most often with head pats and that sickeningly sweet tone you took is used for looking down on those younger, those one sees as beneath them… Children are not given enough respect.” “Oh? I don’t look down on my little sisters.” The blush on you face kept darkening as you made unwavering eye contact with Rantaro trying to not show just how flustered you were becoming. “Well, I, I mean… Often people only treat others they see as lower like that, and, I…” You then abruptly stood up. “I need a moment to collect my thoughts.” You then ran off wondering what the hell you were even doing. Meanwhile Rantaro simply smiled watching you as you left. “Cute.”

·       As Rantaro thought about it, he did appreciate what you were trying to say. He knew how highly you treated respect, and you give that to children as well… Perhaps you’d be a good person to be around his sisters.

·       For all of Rantaro’s life he had always gone with the flow, so it was not surprising that the same happened when getting together with you. Neither of you ever confessed, you just knew you were together and that was that.

·       On occasion you’d go with Rantaro on his trips. Though he never had much luck before, Rantaro felt that with you by his side, perhaps he could find his sisters again. With a person as strong and smart and dedicated as you, he was sure you’d come up with some ingenious plan to find them all. If anyone could do it, it would be you. These trips, when these thoughts appeared, it reminded him of all the reasons why he fell for you, how kind and caring you were under that cold exterior. You just always wanted the best for others so should you be separated, you didn’t have to worry about them, because you knew you trained them well to be independent and a team player when needed. You were the best partner he never could have even dreamed of and with you by his side, he felt that just maybe anything was possible.

   Shuichi Saihara:

·       Shuichi was introduced to you through Kaito. Kaito acted like you and he were the best of friends, but you seemed to be so distant. “Kaito… Are you sure you’re friends?” “Huh? What do you mean, Shuichi? Of course we’re friend’s, just look at how happy they are to be here with me!” You did not even take a glance at him as he draped his arm across your shoulders, pulling you closer, he so brightly smiling. “They’re like Akamatsu and me, a great leader! I actually brought them here to see if they’d take you on as a sidekick as well!” “Soldier.” Shuichi’s breath got caught in his throat hearing that quiet, yet powerful voice. “Yeah, soldier, sidekick, they’re the same for you.”

·       Not long after you ended up joining he, Maki and Kaito for their training in the evenings. As the SHSL Military general, he thought it was going to be hell, but… it was not? You gave Maki, Kaito and Shuichi different amounts of push-ups or whatever exercise they had decided to do. Every one of you were pushed to your limit. You’d correct them on their form, but more so, you’d encourage them, saying you knew they could do better and asking that they not disappoint you, which was surprisingly motivating. Though he hadn’t known you for long, he didn’t want to let you down, something about you made him want to do better. Perhaps it was that commanding tone that made him feel he had too or how you were working out with all of them, not taking a break or slowing your impossibly fast pace till everyone was done. Whatever it was, some part of Shuichi wanted to make you proud of him as odd as that may sound.

·       You also ended up following Shuichi around. Nothing stalker like. You’d just sit by one another in the library or at lunch. Being more introverted, Shuichi actually rather liked this. Neither of you had to speak much but your friendship still blossomed.

·       One day you spoke up. “Shuichi, are you free after school?” “Yeah, I am.” “I’ll meet you at your classroom then.” And you just left. Indeed, when Shuichi left his classroom you were there waiting for him by the door. Locking eyes for a brief moment you began to walk away, and he followed. You lead him out of the school, down streets and alleyways till you arrived at a small building.

·       Once inside you were immediately greeted happily by men and women. “Hey, General, who’s this kid. A new friend of yours?” “Yes. A childhood friend of mine introduced us and I was asked to take him under my wing. I believe this place may be useful to him. I’ll be heading to my therapy session now.” With that said you walked up the stairs and left Shuichi behind. “Uh, therapy? What is this place?” It looked to be a large cozy house. There were not too many people about ten or so but most were of different ethnicities or were injured in some way. One of the people sitting at a table eating baked treats approached Shuichi. “A drop-in center. A place for us retired soldiers to gather and… just talk with others with similar experiences. You don’t seem like the Ultimate fighter or anything so a civilian like you must have been through something rough. Come, let’s share some snacks till the General gets back.”

·       And there Shuichi was told many a story of the battlefield, stories of you, how you always tried to take as little life while still being realistic. How you’d push everyone to the breaking point but also be tender. War is not kind but that didn’t mean you couldn’t be. “So… what about you?” “Eh- Me?” “Yes, Shuichi. You feel up to sharing your experiences?” “I… I can’t. My problems must sound so trivial compared to what you’ve been through.” “Enough! You never fought in a war but that doesn’t make your pain any less real.” “Exactly. This is a safe space to share any troubles, but if you don’t want too you don’t have to. I know it sure took me a while before I shared any of my stories.” “Well…” And Shuichi told them. About how he got his title, about the look the killer gave him, the guilt he carried on his shoulders, the fear of finding the truth only to cause more pain. And… everyone was so supportive. Some even saying that in some ways they weren’t sure they could deal with what Shuichi had gone through and fighting seemed easier to them. It seemed so surreal to Shuichi. So surreal in fact he didn’t notice you came back down those steps, briefly smiling before sitting in a corner to do your homework.

·       It was around dinner time that Shuichi had noticed you and realized how late it had gotten. You both quickly left, not wanting to miss out on Teruteru’s delicious cooking. About a block away from the building, you spoke up. “I go there just about everyday after school. Even if I don’t go, you’re welcome. A drop-in center is for everyone, not just soldiers of war.” Shuichi knew what you were getting at and accepted your offer. It was nice and quiet there. There were different regulars for each day, so conversation never got stale and… it was just so pleasant.

·       Eventually after you and Shuichi started going out you were occasionally teased at the Drop-in center, but it was always lighthearted. Some even shared stories of their spouses or past romances.

·       With Shuichi’s life seemingly being a rollercoaster, always so fast, loud and busy, he loved being with you. You were able to help him clear his mind. You were one of the few truly stable things in his life. No matter what happened he could always seek your guidance and you’d help to an extent but make sure Shuichi did most of the leg work. And you… truthfully you could say the exact same about Shuichi. He still needed to gain confidence, and independence, but you knew that you could rely on him. Should all the spilled blood seem overbearing, Shuichi would help you out of that dark place. You relied on him just as much as he relied on you. You were truly equal partners and neither of you could want for more from a partner.

#kokichi oma #kokichi ouma #rantaro amami #shuichi saihara #kokichi x reader #rantaro x reader #shuichi x reader #mod gundham #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #new danganronpa v3 #danganronpav3 #danganronpa imagine #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa v3 imagine #danganronpa v3 imagines #dr imagine #dr imagines #dr v3 imagine #dr v3 imagines #danganronpa x reader

[radiantresplendence]

The Dancer Class - Fire Emblem Three Houses

The Dancer is our second special class and is the only one that is not exclusive to a specific character. Any student character, including the Ashen Wolves can be made into a Dancer when the White Heron Cup event comes up in part 1. Unfortunately, only one character can be made a Dancer in each playthrough of the game. Hopefully my analysis can help you make an informed decision. 

The Dancer certification works a little different than the qualifications for other classes. You select a student contestant to represent your house and come the dance contest, the house with the representative with the highest charm stat wins. To increase the player’s chance of victory, the game allows you to give your student dance practice. This grants the would-be Dancer a permanent +5 charm. I’ve never lost the contest, but from what I understand, it is possible.

Analysis 

The Dancer offers no boost to your base stats, but you could consider the +5 charm from dance practice a boost to your bases, even though it’s a flat increase that doesn’t care where your stats sit beforehand. The class offers solid stat boosts, however granting 1 strength, 3 dexterity and 3 speed. It also grants 2 additional charm on top of the already considerable boost to your bases. These are good stats for a unit that’s not necessarily suited to combat, and the exceptional charm makes a Dancer a powerful user of offensive gambits. Despite being a sword class, the Dancer also has access to magic, which is arguably the better choice for a Dancer in combat. 

Dancers have high mobility for an infantry unit, boasting 6 movement. This allows them to keep up with your mounted units, to an extent, so  long as you relegate yourself to backline support, which is what a Dancer excels at. 

Dancers have a robust skillset, starting with the skill and Combat Art that are permanently available once you qualify for the class: Sword Avoid +20 and Sword Dance, respectively. While in the class, a Dancer gains the Dance skill. Upon mastery, a Dancer gains the Special Dance Skill. 

Sword Avoid +20 is an absolute beast of a skill and acts as a premium ability for high evasion builds. It’s not the most useful ability to keep on a Dancer, barring Levin Sword shenanigans, but it’s extremely powerful in other classes. 

Sword Dance is a powerful Combat Art which is not locked to Dancer. It may only grant 1 additional damage, but it adds like 30% of your (already boosted) charm to your damage as well. It also grants 20% evade and only costs 2 weapon uses. It may not be the most powerful Combat Art, but on a unit with weak Sword Combat arts, it can be a notable choice. 

Dance gives access to the “dance” action, which allows them to refresh an adjacent unit, granting another turn. This is the biggest draw of the Dancer class and is extremely powerful. You can grant your most powerful combatant a second turn and take out a second enemy. (This is stupid good in tandem with a unit buffed by a Stride gambit and Canto.)

Special Dance boosts the “dance” action, giving it rally traits to boost dexterity, speed and luck by 4. It’s good, but not great. Usually, Dancers try to use the “dance” action as much as possible and if that’s how you’re using them, it’s a good skill to equip. The biggest boon is potentially allowing a unit to double and crit. It pairs well with units using gauntlets or brave weapons, especially so if you don’t have a dedicated rally unit. At the very least, it does have good action economy. 

Dancer growths are bad, granted a 5% detriment to strength, defense and resistance. The only meaningful boon it gives is a 10% boost to charm growth. From a stat perspective, boosting a high-charm unit to astronomically-high charm is the only real benefit. 

Good Dancers

Dorothea (and to a lesser extent, Constance) make the most obvious Dancers due to them being magic-specialists with access to long-range magic for linked attacks. (Hilda can do this too, if you want to be cursed... she even has high Charm...) Dorothea is probably the best of the three due to her sword skills and her Songstress Personal Skill allowing her to heal without taking an action, she’s also the only one of the three with a budding talent in faith and Physic. (I should note that Hilda has a special linked attack bonus with Balthus and Claude, making her arguably better at this than Constance. Basically, I recommend Dancer Hilda, but please don’t do it.)

Dimitri is the best high evasion build unkillable god type in the game. Ferdinand can do it too, without being locked to a specific route, making him the arguably stronger choice as Sword Avoid +20 can be unlocked by previous Dancers in NG+. Dimitri has his main lord charm though, can combine the Crest of Blaiddyd with Sword Dance for monstrous damage without chewing through your weapons as hard and his Royal Lineage+ gives +5 more evade than Ferdie’s Confidence. Basically, you put either of these boys on a wyvern. They’re not strong as a Dancer necessarily, but they work better than any other unit with what you gain by qualifying for the class. 

Edelgard is notable for having the highest charm in the game, a strength in swords and decent magic, including a really interesting spell list. I don’t think that Dancer Edelgard is the best mage Edelgard build, but the possibilities are interesting enough to be worth noting. If there’s a build where you’d want to actually use the Authority skill, this would be it. 

Marianne and Ingrid make notable Dancers due to respectable charm, access to Thoron and a strength in swords. Marianne is probably the stronger choice, due to being more magic-oriented and her Hero’s Relic being a magic sword, however Ingrid’s Personal Skill, Lady Knight boosts her gambit effectiveness which gives her a niche to not be overshadowed. They also both have access to Physic. 

Yuri makes a really solid Dancer because his Hero’s Relic, the Fetters of Dromi gives him Canto and Movement +1 as an infantry unit. Yuri also has a strong spell list, and main lord stats, boasting huge charm and the ability to not be as hampered by Dancer’s bad growths over time. 

Flayn is my last recommendation. She joins late, has good Charm and her Caduceus Staff gives her bonus range on offensive magic for linked attacks, she also has a special linked attack bonus with Byleth and Seteth. She lacks Physic, but if you want to use her and haven’t decided on a Dancer, it’s a good pick for her that can compensate for her being a little behind the rest of your army. 

The honorable mentions are Sylvain, who I was originally going to include, but decided against it when I basically convinced myself to make him a Dark Knight instead and Anyone who’s Getting Statscrewed and You want to Use. Dancers are going to be using the “dance” action a lot of the time anyways, so their not as dependent on the randomness of level-ups as other units. 

Conclusion

Dancers are really strong and losing out on fielding the class for Sword Avoid +20 isn’t really worth it unless you’re really going to capitalize on it. Sure Felix and Petra can use it, but you lose out on a lot in the process. In my opinion, once you get the late game dance of the goddess battalions and roll them over into NG+, you really get the freedom to experiment with the class without feeling like you’re missing out. 

I’ve got more of these, see the rest here. 

#fire emblem #fire emblem 3 houses #fire emblem three houses #dancer #guide #review #dorothea arnault #constance von nuvelle #hilda valentine goneril #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #ferdinand von aegir #edelgard von hresvelg #marianne von edmund #ingrid brandl galatea #yuri leclerc #flayn

[dragon-grunkle]

star wars and flight rising are in the same universe and here’s why, a ted talk by stanley

in an effort to both 1. talk about my lore more often like i’ve been meaning to and 2. explain what i meant when i went off about it in the tags of my last post, i’m gonna attempt to explain my rationale for deciding star wars and flight rising can totally coexist in the same universe.

there’s a tldr at the very bottom! i do use rebels as a basis for some of this lore, since it basically just confirms concepts i was already thinking of before i even watched the show, but it IS a little spoilery sometimes.

SO. what do we know about sornieth? here’s a summary: it’s the fourth planet from its sun. it has at least one but possibly two or more moons. powerful beings of pure elemental energy sprung up in the early days of the planet’s formation. a darkness from beyond attacks the planet, and the gods build a pillar to keep it out. after this, humanoid races flourish and they learn to combine magic with technology, but eventually someone gets too arrogant and builds a big machine that blows up all of civilization. from this, the arcanist is born. he grows curious and encounters the shade, which breaks the pillar. the other gods see this and decide to go their separate ways. they create dragons.

this new society has reached a point roughly equivalent to the 1920s, and that’s as far as we’ve gotten. that’s it, that’s flight rising. no aliens mentioned, except for the shade (and possibly the forbidden portal enemies if you count those, but that’s for another time).

what about star wars? as we all know, it’s set ‘a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away’. there is a lot of history here that isn’t really relevant, so i’m just going to talk briefly about the layout of the galaxy: it isn’t named, but there are different sections to it that are, and they’re grouped according to how far away a planet is from the center of the galaxy. you have: the core worlds, the inner rim, the mid rim, the outer rim, and wild space. generally, planets are more densely populated towards the center of the galaxy and less as you go out. compare coruscant, a core world entirely covered by a city and inhabited by trillions of people, to tatooine, an outer rim planet that wookieepedia states has 200,000 inhabitants total. 

-----

where does sornieth fit in this map? the answer is simple: wild space. this region lies beyond the outer rim, where not many bother to travel because it’s just not worth it, and it’s where i’ve placed sornieth in this scenario. wookieepedia says:

Unlike other regions of the galaxy, Wild Space existed along the entire circumference of the galactic disk and on the borderlands of the Unknown Regions. It was inhabited by sentient species but not fully charted, explored, and civilized.

star wars: rebels touches on wild space a bit: one of its main characters is a lasat, a species thought to be wiped out by the empire. lasats come from lasan, but they have a legendary ancestral homeworld called lira san. except it turns out that lira san isn’t a myth: it’s real, it’s populated, and it’s in wild space.

the fact that an entire species believed their original homeworld was a myth means we can easily set sornieth there without ever having to worry about political groups such as the republic, the empire, and the rebellion coming across the planet and mucking up our established rule of No Aliens Besides Shade (And Maybe Arcanist). it’s conveniently out of the way AND protects the lore of both continuities very well, ensuring that they don’t interfere with each other by introducing a previously-unheard-of super-powerful flying magical race to the galaxy, or having stormtroopers invade the southern icefields, or something else fucky like that.

------

now that we’ve got location covered, we have to talk about the force, magic, and the gods. i’m gonna get a little handwavey here, but it’s also, i think, the most interesting part of this whole thing, so here we go.

first off, the force. what is it? here’s how obi-wan describes it in a new hope:

It's an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us; it binds the galaxy together.

with that description in mind, i want to draw attention to one little throwaway line from the flight rising lorebook chapter 1: the first age: 

From this bedlam, the magical energies themselves began to concentrate and change. Similar particles receded into four great beings, each overwhelmingly dense with a different element. As if eager to proudly display their emergence to some unseen divinity, these beings took on the shapes of great wyrms.

that ‘unseen divinity’? yeah, that’s the force. you could even take the ‘similar particles’ bit to mean midi-chlorians, if you want to acknowledge the prequels’ interpretation of the force.

as we know, some people are stronger with the force than others. these people usually become jedi or sometimes sith, depending on whether they use the light or the dark side. but the jedi and sith aren’t the only force users out there: there are plenty of civilizations who have different names and explanations for it and how it manifests itself varies from person to person. in fact, the lasat people i mentioned earlier recognized the force as something called ‘the ashla’. so different concepts for the force exist across the galaxy, and it’s very possible that what we know as ‘elemental magic’ on sornieth is simply how dragons see different aspects of the force. as if that wasn’t enough, we also know some force users can use the force to manipulate the elements themselves, like how palpatine can use the dark side to create lightning.

so really: i don’t think it’s a stretch to say some intensely powerful creatures born of the universe itself could specialize in a specific aspect of the force and manifest entirely that way.

[billy mays voice] But Wait, There’s More! i’m gonna reference rebels again. yeah, i know. on the planet of atollon lives the bendu, a being of the force who is neither light nor dark. he’s powerful, and at one point, turns himself into a giant storm and strikes down ships with lightning to defend his planet. loth-wolves are a similar concept. they’re animals which are shown to have a deep connection to the force, but only as it relates to the planet they call home, lothal. at one point a character asks if the loth-wolves are on their side and the answer is "they're on lothal's side.” this is how i see the gods as existing in the greater star wars universe: powerful beings intrinsically linked to the planet they originate from. they’re capable of great feats on their own, but can guide others (like humans or dragons) to use the force / magic in their stead.

the gods are real inasmuch as the force is real, and act as extensions of one another. if we wanna go a step further, the deities could all be light-side users and the shade is their dark counterpart, which is a REALLY fun concept to explore.

-----

phew, that’s it. i’ve covered most of it except for how dragons get off sornieth and into the wider galaxy, which is...somewhat less essential than the stuff i talked about above, but i still want to address it, especially since we’ve established they have no outside contact and are limited to 1920s tech. to keep it brief, the easiest answer is...magic.

i don’t want to get tooooo deep into rebels stuff again, but space-time portals do exist in star wars, which is really exciting for me personally, and also a nice setup for dragons to get out into the galaxy - if they have access to them, that is; in rebels they only appear in a jedi temple, but i think it’s possible other access points exist, given that other force-societies also exist. the point is, being handwavey and saying ‘eh, portals’ is a valid excuse that doesn’t totally break either universe because they are canon to both universes. you could also go the route of magic experiments gone wrong, the deities picking off a few special individuals and sending them out, or crazy lighning-arcane tech mergers shooting dragons off into space, never to be heard from again.

there’s any number of possibilities here, ranging from crazy space wizard shenanigans to early spaceflight gone very very wrong.

-----

tldr: sornieth is located in the far reaches of the galaxy, away from major events, and has remained undiscovered. the deities are manifestations of the force channeled through the planet itself; the gods and the force are extensions of one another. sometimes dragons can get off sornieth, but not often, so dragons are rare in the wider galaxy. there is no conflict of lore that says these two things CAN’T exist in the same universe, and in fact, the lore sometimes even supports them coexisting.

or in other words: star wars and flight rising coexist because i want them to, but also because i have legitimate justification for it. i’m too powerful and nobody can stop me from making star wars dragons now.

#flight rising #star wars #fr lore #crossover #flight rising lore #stanley says stuff #wait i dont have a lore tag.....a travesty #stanley loves lore #<- bc it has to be alliterative in some way #there we go. lore tag exists now #if anyone reads this i will be shocked lmfao #i will go feral if anyone reads and asks me questions about this shit #im still debating whether or not i should post that 10k monster lorefic but for now theres this #bc i sorta needed to organize my thoughts for myself too + bc i need to explain my mando dragon who ive already shown off

[ihopethisendswell]

My Computer Is Terrible So I'm Stating My Story Ideas Here Part 9: This is gonna be very f-ing vague but it has Lore Keeper Sonia in it and that all that matters.......and my oc x Leon ship I guess.

Okay okay okay

Swsh Fantasy/Medieval/Royalty Au

You love it. I love it. Will I write about it? Eh. Will I gush about it? Absolutely.

So so so

Some random things that I'm thinking about.

I'm going full ramble here prepare yourself.

Lore. Keeper. Sonia. My. Beloved.

Let her have an active role dammit

For what idk but it'll be something!

Also King Leon cause duh

With Raihan as his number 1 knight. The only one who can at least match him in battle

Also his bff( along with Sonia)

Being a young king Leon had less time to interact with those he cares about

Like Hop

Also Prince Hop My Beloved

So like

The plot is very vague but like

The basic idea is that there's a threat of a dragon or something similar to the sort

And ofc King Leon and his best knight will go to the threat themselves since soldiers they sent has note returned so better go themselves to not loose anymore men

So as they prepare to leave Sonia comes along and is like " I'm coming with you I know about these Legends of the Land that might help you" and Leon is like " No it's do dangerous" and they fight about while Raihan is in the background like " oh damn" before Leon uses his status as a king and orders Sonia to not interfere which really blows a whole into their already stained friendship

It also causes Raihan to question if his relationship with Leon is that they're actually friends or it's just of a king and his knight ( only professional)

Leon in all of this is feeling very bad but Rose is like " you did what you had to do" and tries to encourage Leon about his abilities/ status/ relationships.

Rose is Leon's counselor/ Duke/ idfc but he's there

Change in perspective: it's hops turn

His whole thing is that when he was really young he used to be bff's with this girl( Naomi) but the problem is that no has seen her AND one day she just disappeared like that one guy in the meme so no one believes him when he says that she exist

So up until now he was taught to believe that he was imagining things and that this girl didn't really exist until he started having weird dreams about someone calling him to fulfill some prophecy of sword and shield or whatever and each time this person mentions Naomi, his childhood friend

And in his dreams it's said that they have to go to the place Leon and Raihan are going to fulfill the prophecy

So now Hop's like " well dang I guess I have to fulfill this prophecy but there's no way that Lee would let me go with him-" ( cause he overheard Lee's and Sonia's fight) " so who can I ask?"

Piers that's who!!!

Idk if he's gonna be a duke or part of a gang of thieves not how tf does hop know about him but he does and we're gonna role with it

THIS IS GETTING ODDLY SPECIFIC FIR SOMETHING THAT'S SUPPOSED TO BE F-ING VAGUE

Also Marnie tags along too because of course she does

They somehow tag Bede along who was going to stop them but they forced him to come anyway

BACK TO LEON

A day before they leave Raihan is like " we should head to the market for extra supplies " and Leon's like " yeah sure" so they head to the market

While they're there Leon bumps into a stranger with black clock with neon blue highlights aka Alexis!!!!

And Alexis drops a few things most notable a compass of sort but before Leon can say anything Alexis just snatches it out of Leon's hands and walks off without a word

And Leon's like " rude" but honestly doesn't think of it

So the next day they're actually leaving for real and after a long while on the road Raihan thinks that some snuck on their carriage only to find out it was just Sonia because she's a bad bitch like that

And Leon obviously makes a fuss because she went against his orders but she's like " I know more about * insert place* more than the two of you combined!" ( Well not really, and Raihan is fairly knowledgeable about Legends and history and and stuff but I need a reason for Sonia to be there okay)

They fight for a bit before Raihan gets in between the two and is like " we're too far to go back now and she might be a big help so stop fighting" and they stop for the time being.

Que travel sequence with both parties having shenanigans

Leon and Sonia fighting

Hop and Bede fighting

Marnie honestly vibing

Piers being tired of everything and rethinking his life choices

Raihan honesty having to be the middle man before snapping himself and now all three of them are not on good terms ( oh you thought it was just gonna be Alexis x Leon angst? Ha! The games gave me both to much and to little content to work with. Suffer)

Another perspective change but it's Alexis this time!!!!!

In the game canon he had a relatively light scar on his right eye. Well now it's worse :)

In this Au he was cursed by a certain green haired man( Ghetsis) (I'm going to dread tagging this aren't I ), who was an evil warlock and king( or Alexis' Homeland and by force I must add)that Alexis defeated cause he was once a hero

Bascically he's cursed to have the appearance and abilities to a half-dragon

So for the most part he looks human with a few things akin to Zekrom minus the tail.

To be specific his arms and legs are both seemingly chard black, with slightly visible lightning marks. they glow blue when he's using magic/ his powers. His eyes ( well eye) is like Zekrom's

While that sounds cool, his new abilities give Alexis a lot of pain, as his body isn't suited for it

And because big that he can't really control his new powers so he's not only hurting himself but also those around him.

As much as I want to go the route of he runs away from his family and friends to look for a cure and protect them this guy Formerly had no clue how magic worked he just used it, so he had to ask those around him who did to help him

Which involves the dragon that everyone is looking for as it is said to sap energy of any kind, which would reverse his curse.

This dragon is called Eternatus

The problem is that this same dragon is known to to use it's energy to cause destruction around it and Alexis is like yeah no, and goes off to find another way with Elliot and N since both Cheren and Bianca have they're own duties and N knows about the curse being Ghetsis' son

The compass is magic and it's away for each of them to tell where the other is and use for communication

It's also used to detect magic!

So yeah this compass is very important

Along they're travels the twins have this very strange dream regarding Naomi but they notice that A) she's wearing a necklace that was once owned by their uncle before he moved away to start a family.

So they rightfully assume that this girl is their cousin

The second thing they notice is that Eternatus is literally right behind her and is causing her A LOT of pain.

Bascically she's begging them to come save her because she's gonna die if they don't

If your wondering why she didn't contact Hop it's because she assumed that Hop had forgotten about her so she thought it would be pointless. Not the spirits/ the wolves though!

So know the twins have no choice but to go find Eternatus and rescue Naomi because why wouldn't they she's in trouble and they're cousin !!!!

So they tell N the gist and make they're way to the kingdom that Leon rules and Alexis bumps into Leon yada yada yada you get it

And after that they leave for Eternatus.

I have a lot more ideas but this is getting waaaaay to long so I'm just gonna make a part 2/ part 10.

Seriously this is very fun to think about as I love the fantasy genre.

TDLR: This is awfully specific for something that's supposed to be very vague. Also Lore Keeper Sonia my Beloved ( I know I didn't talk about her much but just know I love her dearly)

If anyone have any ideas or just want to brainstorm with me, feel free to tell me!

#pokemon swsh #pokemon sword and shield #champion leon #gym leader raihan #sonia pokemon #rival hop #rival bede #rival marnie #gym leader piers #pokemon oc #long post #the ides are rushing in! #i love this more than i thought i would #i haven't written anything medieval fantasy like in soooo long #my first story was one until i scrapped it #this just makes me so happy

[ashes-of-ailell]

Wolves Route Part 1 - Grey Fog

Figured I'd make a list of the Chapters in Part One of the Wolves Route, called Grey Fog instead of White Clouds due to some of the story divergence.

List set out like:

[Chapter Number] - [Chapter Title] - [Battle Title] (Battle Location).

Please feel free to try and guess what will happen in the new chapters! I plan on maybe attempting to write a multi-chapter fic for this at some point, or at the very least a script, so you'll be able to see if your prediction is correct (hopefully) soon. These chapters are subject to change if I think of something that works better while writing :3

PROLOUGE - Skirmish at Dawn - 'What Lies Beneath' [Abyss Entrance]

1 - Protectors of Abyss - 'Shielding the Fallen' [Abyss Arena]

2 - Familiar Scenery - 'Red Canyon Dominance' [Zanado, The Red Canyon]

3 - Opposing Factions - 'The Scorpion's Nest' [Garreg Mach Outskirts - Fog]

4 - The Goddess's Rite of Rebirth - 'Assault at the Rite of Rebirth' [The Holy Mausoleum]

5 - Pressure - 'Protecting the Wolves' Den' [Abyss]

6 - Rumours of a Reaper - 'The Underground Chamber [Abyss Outskirts]

7 - Birdcage - 'Clipped Wings' [Garreg Mach Outskirts]

8 - Whispers in the Dark - 'Suspicious Shadows' [Cindered Shadows 'Betrayal' Map - Fog]

9 - The Cause of Sorrow - 'Salvation at the Chapel' [Garreg Mach - Chapel Ruins]

10 - Where the Goddess Dwells - 'The Sealed Forest Snare' [Sealed Forest]

11 - Throne of Knowledge - 'Conflict in the Holy Tomb' [Holy Tomb]

12 - To War - 'The Battle of Garreg Mach' [Garreg Mach - Monastery Town]

#wolves route shenanigans #fe3h #fe3h ashen wolves

[diabolik-fics-owo]

Shin Tsukinami x fem!Reader (chapter one)

Word count: 1610

(Y/N)'s POV

          After a long take of work, I was taking the scenic route home. It was beautiful. The trees swayed from the force of the wind, I could here frogs croak and bats sing. The only light I had was the light of the moon and stars. The old road I was on was a dirt one, but it got the job done nonetheless. My house was no more than a ten minute walk away from where I work, so I'm able to get home fairly quickly.

          However, on this night in-particular, I heard the howling of voices. They were getting closer. There were multiple. Their howls and yelps chilled me to the bone. I realized that the pounding of their paws on the ground were nearing closer. Frantically, I looked around myself and came to the conclusion that they were coming from all angles, all directions. I was petrified.

          One wolf leaps out of the underbrush, blocking my way home. Another wolf jumps onto the road next to me, and lands with a thud. They were both barking at me, but not attacking. I start to run in the opposite direction, back to work. The wolves come with me. My neck hurt from breathing so heavily in the cool, autumn air. I wasn't sure I could run for long. The wolves were chasing me.

I was wheezing while running, my lungs couldn't take such a fast pace in the cold. My throat was aching and it was itching, uncomfortable. My body began to ache, but I couldn't stop. I noticed that more wolves surrounded me. There weren't just two or three, there was a whole pack, maybe two, honing in on me. Up to 20 wolves surrounded me.

Stopping moving, I gave up. My legs have out. I was on my knees, eventually I collapsed on all fours, looking around at the wolves that were getting closer to me. They slowing came closer, calculating what to do. However, they all seemed like they were waiting in suspense for something, or someone, to happen.

A chuckle comes from behind me. I'm still on my knees, in the cold, attempting to catch my breathe. Adrenaline ran through my veins. I slowly turned around to see a young man, with strawberry blond hair looking towards me. His laugh pierced through me. All I could do was look up. My legs were sore, and my body was chilled to the bone.

"Looks like you got caught," he laughed. "Well, what do you think? Did my wolves do a good job at hunting? Haha~ look at you, on the ground, how embarrassing," the man teased me. He shamed me for not being able to run and keep up the pace.

I paused, didn't answer him. I didn't know how. These are his hunting wolves? I thought to myself in silence. Even thinking was hard, due to me focusing on the soreness throughout my body. He is sick, hunting a real person like this. I was even more terrified. He must be a sadist to treat a human like this.

Enraged, the man yelled at me. He wouldn't stop. "Huh?! Why won't you answer to me?!" His voice turned raspy and deep. "I asked you a question. You are a lower being. I expect respect! What do you think about the skills of these wolves? I trained them myself. Tell me how terrified you are, I want to hear it," he spoke with an enraged whisper. He came closer to me, and began to twirl my (H/C) between his fingers.

I didn't know how to respond, so I said the first thing that came to mind. "Please, sir," I whispered with a cry. "I don't know what you want, I'm scared. Please, leave me alone!" I whined, not knowing what else to do. "You're scaring me." He stopped twirling my hair in his fingers, and looked me dead in the eyes. I could see the golden shine, and my reflection in his eyes. His face moved closer to mine. He put his fingers on the bottom of my chin, forcing me to lift my head up and face him.

Some more, he chuckled at me. "Oh~ this is just the beginning," he laughed. "I wonder what's under that (S/C) skin. I wonder how you taste. Come here, come closer~," I had no time to respond. I was pulled into an embrace, and his hands were around my waist, and one was at the back of my head. I could feel his breath on my neck.

A shot of sharp pain ran down my chest and arms. I felt a liquid drip down my chest, it was hot, but left a cold trail behind. My neck was holt, and it was the center of the shooting pains. I felt a light sucking on my neck. He had bitten me. This man was drinking my blood. !!!!!!How? Why? I began to scream and move.

"Somebody- please! I need help!" I screamed. My voice was hoarse and I couldn't make a loud enough noise to get anybody's attention. The man bit down harder into my throat, making me feel like I was being choked.

I could hear him mumbling onto my neck. "The more you cry our, the worse this pain will get. I might just kill you here. It would be such a shame to waste your beauty," he said, biting down on my shoulder. "... and to think I was going to keep you as a new plaything."

My raspy voice called out, "a playthi- gah!" I cried. I could feel him switch places once again. This time he was biting me on my best. More blood poured out of me, and I felt my blood drip down my back, and onto my arms. It was cold. It felt like the heat was draining out of my body along with my blood.

My hands grasped his shoulders, and I feebly attempted to push him away, but he had too strong of a grip onto my body. His hands were cold. They grasped me firmly, but they didn't hurt me. His hands were rather gentle on my skin, while stilling holding me in my place.

The only thing I could do was look at the moon and the stars, not being covered by the thick clouds. The moon light was still shining through the clouds, it nearly blinded me in my dazed state. I saw somebody else in my line of vision. He was a tall man, with silver hair. Had he always been there? The man was surrounded by wolves. They weren't attacking him. He had similar eyes to the man at my neck, the same golden shine. I noticed that he was getting closer, take slow steps towards the two of us, entwined in each other.

          The new man's voice shook me to the core, "Shin, what do you think you are doing?" He asked the younger boy. Oh~ so this boy's name is 'Shin'? I guess that's a good to know. "Kill her and be done with it. We don't have all the time in the world for your shenanigans," he was cold, distant and mysterious, showing no hint of emotion.

        Shin took his long fangs away from my neck. "You lucked out this time," he whispered in my ear. "Brother, instead of killing her, I think we should keep her. Look at her, she's a beauty! She could be a good addition to our staff... actually, she'd be the only addition," he said, with a light blush on his face. He stood up, leaving me on my knees, gleaming up at the two brothers. I knew better than to speak. They are thinking about keeping me alive, I shouldn't question their motives just yet.

The man with the silver man sighed, “you can keep her. However, if she is disobedience or acts out of place I will not hold back. No mercy will be had,” his words were so cruel, cold, dead.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Shin. “Why do you always have to be so cynical? It’s not that hard to smile, brother,” Shin knelt down next to me, and grabbed my neck. I was fazed, in a daze. More blood than expected was taken out of me in such a short time. “Ehhh~ brother, let me have fun for a few more minutes than I’ll take her,” he said, grabbing my chin once more.

This time, he didn’t bite my neck or my chest, Shin stuck his fangs into my lips, grasping my bottom lip in-between his own. He nearly bit through my lip. It was almost as painful as when he bit me in the neck. The blood that Shin didn’t sip seeped down my chin, and little droplets crashed onto my chest. His hand was once again wrapped around my waist.

Shin removed his lips from mine, and began to trace his lips down my neck, back to my chest. He sank his teeth into the mark he had previously created, making the bite mark larger. He was violently drinking. It was frantic and chaotic. He lapped up every drop of blood that came out of the wound of mine.

The light began to fade from the world. My head was spinning. I was hyper aware of my breathing. It was loud and unstable. My mind felt like it stopped working. My grasp on Shin’s shoulders loosened, I fell back into his grasp. He removed his lips from my chest, looking at me with satisfaction. I heard a chuckle, then the world faded into nothingness.

If you have read this far, please follow because I post fanfics like this a lot!

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers shin tsukinami #shin tsukinami #shin tsukinami x reader #tsukinami shin #x reader #diabolik lovers x reader

[enchantedbride]

Get To Know A Little About Joey’s Self-Ships!: Khalid/Joanna/Yuri

This will be the first of several posts where I talk about my self-ships, including the dynamics between my self-inserts and f/os, a little bit about their history together, etc. 

To start things off, I’m going to start by talking about my main ship! 

Khalid(Claude Von Riegan)/Joanna/Yuri LeClerc

Important Note: The self-insert I use in my main Three Houses self-ship shenanigans is the same self-insert I use for Fire Emblem Awakening! This version if Joanna is a manakete (a dragon who can turn into a humanoid form and is generally thought to be immortal), and in her story she comes to Fodlan after five hundred years have past since the events of Awakening. 

So what’s actually interesting here is all three of them having something in common right off the bat when Joanna first meets Khalid and Yuri. That being that all three of them are keeping pieces of themselves and their backstories a secret to protect themselves. 

Khalid of course goes under the name Claude in Fodlan, and tends to stay close-lipped about being from Almyra (and a prince of Almyra at that) because of the prejudice held against Almyrans by the people of Fodlan. Yuri is also an assumed named (but unlike Claude, he has no canonical real name), and he prefers not to speak of the things he’s done that he considers the most shameful. 

In Joanna’s case, she isn’t hiding her name (but she does go under a fake surname when she first comes to Fodlan, Ylisstad.), but like Claude she is hiding her origins (she’s not only not from Fodlan, but she’s not even from the same world as Fodlan), as well as the fact she isn’t human. For the latter, she uses magic conceal her pointed ears that would otherwise hint at her true nature. In her case however, she was not hiding any of this originally when she came to Fodlan. But an unfortunate altercation with a Cardinal of the Church of Seiros upon her arrival made her fear for her safety, but rather than return to Ylisse, she chose to remain in Fodlan as she planned, and went into hiding for a time, making a life for herself as a ‘human’ apothecary as she once did prior to meeting Chrom and the Shepherds long ago. (She’s very stubborn, damn it she came to live in Fodlan and gods damn it she’s gonna try to figure something out before considering high-tailing it back!)

Khalid and Yuri have a few years of development with each other before Joanna even arrives, but even so, the development of the relationship between the three overall I think can be best described as learning to trust one another, and showing support for each other in their individual struggles and their individual battles against the oppression they face in their lives. 

And, I think an important part of things once they get into a relationship with each other is that they give each other a space to be vulnerable, to confide in each other and also to give one another both gestures of affection and emotional support, as well as wisdom. 

How to best summarize their dynamic:

As stated above, trust is the absolute bedrock foundation of their relationship. There are few in Fodlan the three trust as much as they trust each other, and their loyalty and confidence in each other is damn near unshakable once its established. Joanna does have a natural knack for getting even the most guarded folks to open up and trust her, but even with that it still takes time to reach that state of unshakability. All three of them look out for each other too, and build each other up when they’re confronted with the darkest parts of themselves or what they have to deal with.

Some Khalid/Joanna/Yuri facts:

Part of their relationship development includes trying to figure each other out (Khalid and Yuri actually cooperate together in trying to figure out Joanna, which has resulted in some pretty funny shenanigans taking place). 

After the war, eventually they have two children- Emir (who is biologically Khalid’s), and Sonja (who is biologically Yuri’s). 

Their storyline follows a Modified version the Golden Deer/Verdant Wind Route of Three Houses (in which Byleth, the player character, selected to teach the Golden Deer), in which some of the characters who died in canon survive, and the events of the Cindered Shadows DLC are canon, but the Ashen Wolves (including Yuri) stayed at Garreg Mach instead of leaving and were brought into the Golden Deer House by Byleth. 

All Three of them love to cook! It winds up being a fun way for the three of them to spend time together. 

They also are all big cuddlers. Also also! Lots of forehead and nose kisses (as well as kisses in general let’s be real). 

Khalid and Joanna share an interest in plants and herbs (for poisons vs healing applications), and eventually wind up teaching some of what they know to Yuri who winds up using it in some of his work with his gang.

Yuri and Joanna both have musical talent and can sing well (Yuri doesn’t like singing in public though, and in Joanna’s case it can make her flustered depending on the context), and they wind up writing a song together for Khalid. 

Joanna has been reckless with her own life in battle in the past, but is much better at valuing her own life these days... unless she thinks Yuri or Khalid are in mortal peril. Then she goes apeshit. A couple of times Khalid played defense while Yuri patched her up after said incident of going apeshit. 

There’s definitely been times where Yuri rode around on Joanna’s back in her dragon form (once she felt safe to reveal herself) while Khalid rode around on his wyvern. 

They’ve all definitely fallen asleep when talking with each other late into the night on several occassions. 

#sorry this got to be kinda long and not super structured #and rambly as hell #yuri/joanna/claude tag tbd #verse (three houses: fodlan enigma) #the draconic apothecary (joanna|awakening) #something worth everything (claunna) #more than charm (yuri)

[creativenicocorner]

A Valentines to my Terpsichore readers! A ch13 Sneak Peek of that one 1920′s speakeasy scene I was goofing about a while back. 

Initially I wanted to try and have another spicy Avium and Apium chapter out for the 14th buuuuut that didn’t happen lol and I’m very excited to have reached past a section I was having a mild block on! 

So why not share! No? (I have no more self control dknlksnfg)

A soft reminder that this fic is rated Mature 

It isn’t lovey-dovey or anything, but it does hint at a few future plot-points that will be discussed more in ACT II (Especially regarding Nomura, and the shenanigans that unfold in the 20′s) 

Enjoy! （´・｀ ）♡

//

The tawny haired reedy fellow barked an order, some last ditch effort, and a gent in overalls started to fumble towards the bar. He slid away from Enoch’s grasp like a tiny vespa cutting in front of a double decker bus, and nearly tackled Stricklander - but instead slipped on a few peanut shells and landed face first into Krax’s fist.

“Pity.” went Stricklander, finishing his drink, “I’ll have another Leon, I fear this is going to be a rather long night.”

Another member of the tawny haired fellow’s group started to come Stricklander’s way. 

“I must say I’m disappointed.” said Stricklander, voice ringing a bit louder despite the obstruction of the pipe, “Coming into my establishment, with a promise made to follow certain house rules. I keep this place open for all, and this is my repayment?” he said, more for the humans in earshot.

Stricklander then sidestepped raised his arms and pushed the charging goon into the bar counter. A great racket and breaking of glass followed.

Johnson inched further away head sinking into his collar like a turtle into his shell, and Leon tutted at the mess.

Stricklander stepped forward with ease, picked up the goon by his hair, and feeling the eyes of the speakeasy on him he said, “This is a sacred place built on secrets and promises.”

The goon groaned, spitting through his teeth while trying desperately to get his bearings straight.  

“Consecrated ground. Sanctified by the very spirits you drink.” Stricklander then reached for his glass of whiskey, paused, and reached for a gin bottle instead - smashing  it over goon’s head.

The goon whimpered. Leon hissed even more, thinking of the clean-up he’d have to do later.

“And when those promises start to break,” continued Stricklander grabbing the goon’s bloody head, “what then?” Despite the calm of Stricklander’s voice, fury gripped him as he bashed the goon’s head against the bar counter again, and again.

“What?”

Bash

“Then??”

Bash

-BANG-

All was silent.

Stricklander’s ears were ringing. He let go of the goon, barely watching as he crumpled to the floor fractured skull and all.

The gun was still smoking as Stricklander dragged his eyes to and from the gun and the hole in the wall.

Stricklander frowned. With a disappointed drawl he pointed to the hole with his pipe, “You missed, mate.”

The tawny headed leader’s chest was heaving.

“Am I to believe you’re the mastermind behind this tomfoolery?” asked Stricklander.  

The tawny headed leader licked his lips and said, “I am.”

“Do names come with that honor?”

“It’s Jackson. Jack Mumford.”

And Stricklander’s smile stretched with a growing frost, “How do you do Jack Mumford. You have my attention,” he then gestured to the fellow patrons and changelings, “an audience, if you will.”

Mumford eyed Strickler’s coneys specifically, counting how many of his own men were either incapacitated or held. Licking his lips Mumford resembled a fox slowly realizing the chicken coop he was in wasn’t a chicken coop at all, but rather a den of wolves and lions.

“Well..” braved Mumford, “We’re- we’re here for your product.”

“The bar counter too much of a walk for you?” asked Stricklander dryly.

“We’re taking it.”

“Oh!” said Stricklander, shocked as drywall. “So it was the commerce factor that went over your head.”

“O-oh, Oh we know about commerce alright.” finger wagged Mumford, with a quick glance around to remind himself who was in arm’s reach of him. “We got your trade routes figured, and figured good. A-a-and unless you cooperate, we’re going to take em’, get the authorities-” Mumford paused and eyed some of the police that were in the speakeasy, and corrected himself with, “the right authorities, and once they’re notified we’re going to sell the product back with the cops none the wiser.”

A few changelings in the background shared looks, specifically how easily Mumford just explained his whole plan. Some wondered if this blatant display was hidden genius, or foolishness. Leon on the other hand, already started to clean up.

“Well” said Stricklander who held an impressed look a farmer would have with a plucked gourd they were about to carve, “aren’t you a regular Jonathan Wilde. Now is it possible you had your eye on any of my shipments today? Specifically the eastbound product that is technically about to head northwest via a transfer that had a specific amount of delays?”

“Well…um..”

“If so, you’ll be disappointed to know we managed to deal with those delays, which I can now confirm were caused by you and the rest of your,” Stricklander paused, not so much to search for the right word, but relish in the delay, “friends…no?”

Mumford gulped.

It was an affirmative answer as any to Stricklander, swishing his pipe like a cat’s tail before a pounce “I advise you to take a careful eye over the obituary column when you can, Mr Jack Mumford.”

Mumford’s eyes widened, his chest heaving as quickly as a trapped mouse. Again he gazed around to see how well encircled he was. It became clear to Mumford he wasn’t going to leave The House of Tutors without Stricklander’s permission.

“What you did today Mr. Jack Mumford was, well, not well advised to put it mildly, imbecilic to put it bluntly. You should probably think thrice the next time you want to enter an establishment of mine. You have and will face repercussions. It’ll be a hard lesson for you I’m sure.” nodded Stricklander, sympathetic as stone, “But most of life’s lessons are.”

Mumford stared. No one made a move forward towards him of any kind.

As if reading his thoughts Stricklander idly snapped his fingers, and the changelings holding onto Mumford’s men were released to stagger and or fall to the ground.

Mumford then gulped. “I..I can go? Me and my men?”

“Yes. Of course you may. But you will be followed.” Stricklander explained sensibly, then smiled as if the smile were an afterthought.

Stricklander then flung the knife at a table, which landed with a satisfying THWACK quickly followed by a shocked high pitched “Eep!”

Where did the knife come from? No one ever really knew with Stricklander - but he always had one somewhere, just when he needed it.

Stricklander pointed at the owner of the shocked mousey sound with a restrained snarl, “And you, little madam.”  He was speaking to Nomura, who sunk back into her skin after the electricity of the shock faded. “My office. Now.” he said with a generic thumbing behind him for good measure.

With nearly the entire speakeasy watching her, Nomura rolled her eyes with all the petulance of youth. Frustrated she had been caught sneaking back in despite having done so in the chaos of the previous brawl.

It was then that  Mumford had the misfortunate idea to try and use Nomura as a hostage.

Mumford sidestepped, pulled the knife from the table with one hand, and used the other hand to twist Nomura’s arm behind her back.

The speakeasy held their breath.

Stricklander blinked, seemingly unimpressed and uncaring of Nomura’s fate.

A gaze Nomura herself believed as she leaned her neck away from the knife’s edge. A gaze that wouldn’t have fooled Otto if he were there.

“You really are thick.” said Stricklander.

“You ain’t gonna follow me, and if you do - she’ll get it.”

Nomura searched Stricklander’s eyes for any sign he’d intervene, but only a lack of concern was her response.  

“Go on then. Get on with it.” sniffed Stricklander, eyeing his pipe casually before looking back at Mumford, and then Nomura specifically, “If you can manage, it’ll be quite the surprise for everyone. Hm?”

Nomura’s expression changed from frown to realization. This, before the changelings in the House of Tutors, was a chance to test her metal.

What Mumford believed as a dainty misfortunate flapper with an affinity towards warm purple colors, Stricklander saw something entirely else. After all this wasn’t the 1800s anymore.

Mumford furrowed his brows in disbelief, “What kind of cold hearted sonofabitch-?!?!”

Mumford was interrupted by a sharp heeled dig into his foot that made him yowl like a coyote, a backwards headbutt that nearly broke his nose, and although the knife nearly scratched Nomura it fell out of Mumford’s hands and was caught by Nomura just as swiftly. Ending her capture with a smooth release of her restrained arm, and allowing it to rotate behind the distracted and pained Mumford to grasp the back of his tawny hair and shove his head into the table, pinning him with a force so strong Mumford never would have guessed Nomura had.

With her nostrils flared and her adrenaline spiking Nomura twirled the knife in her fingers, and was about to dig the blade into the back of Mumford’s neck, but stopped as Stricklander cleared his throat and said, “Miss Nomura?”

At the last second the knife redirected and landed by Mumford’s face and dug into the table, slicing his ear and cheek in the process.

Stricklander gave a patronizing clap, “Mark me as surprised. Aren’t you surprised Mr. Jack Mumford?”

Mumford whined.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” said Stricklander before ordering, “Empty his pockets.”

Nomura’s frown deepened, and did as she was told.

From his pockets she rested on the table Mumford’s two scraps of leather of a wallet, and an old pocket watch that had a bit of fuzz and hair caught in it.

As Stricklander approached the table, leaning forward to poke at Mumford’s things.

From Mumford’s wallet he took two dollars cash from the three dollars Mumford had to his name. “As payment for the broken glass.” Stricklander explained in a sensible tone that made Mumford sick.

Mumford struggled under Nomura’s remarkably strong hold. “You’re a rotten piece of work, you know that?”

“A fair assessment.” said Stricklander as he idly fiddled with the pocket watch.

The pocket watch clicked open, and from inside, like confetti, sprang a lock of dark curly hair in velvet string, and a picture of a young lady.

The lady was posed exquisitely. Deep lipstick, large glasses, a headband perhaps in silver, dangling earrings, and although her dress exposed her shoulders her décolleté was covered in low hanging necklaces that had the length to wrap around her neck three times. Her hand delicately posed on her palm.

Mumford winced as Nomura leaned forward to get a better look at the picture. If Mumford wasn’t too worried about his life, and the life of his love, he would have heard Nomura catch her breath.

Her young heart fluttered with a feeling of awe, admiration, and…something else, Nomura couldn’t pin the word for it…but it was a something she had been feeling in secret from the order. A secret shared between herself, and the Trollhunter’s son.

Whoever this young lady was Nomura wouldn’t mind trying out kissing with her. She equally wondered where she could get such lipstick.

And while the fair Nomura saw hearts and stars, Stricklander didn’t share the same reaction. Sure this young lady was pretty, but his cold gaze saw only tactics and unforeseen benefits.  

“Does your sweetheart know where you are, sir?” asked Stricklander.

“N-Nancy? She ain’t got nothin to do with this! Nothin to do with this no how!”

Stricklander considered his words, nodding, as if appreciating poetry.

“Well…” he said with a well practiced smile as cold as a mirror’s surface, “I suggest you get back to your dear Nancy then. Hold her tight on this dark night. For if you continue on the course you are on now, well…” Stricklander took the time to savor re-igniting his pope, “It will be a very dark and cold night indeed. For you,” he waved off the flame of the ignited match, “and Nancy.”

Mumford struggled under Nomura’s hold, then finally relented. Making but a partial peace with his loss of face.

If he must swallow a dose of embarrassment to walk out alive, so be it. For his crew, for Nancy, he humbly lowered his head.

“Good.” chirped Stricklander. He pulled on his pipe with ease before exhaling a smokey, “Now off with yeh.”

Mumford and his friends scrambled out of the establishment in a hurry. Quickened feet, followed by swears echoed up the stairs. A few stumbles were also heard, especially by the ones carrying their friend with the fractured skull.

Stricklander’s eyes calmly followed them out, never leaving them as he leaned and whispered at Johnson, “Have them followed. And see what you can find out about Mumford and this, Nancy.”

Johnson nodded, and gestured to Leon to pass his bartending duties to the human employee and follow Johnson.

When Johnson and Leon left, the speakeasy’s ambiance felt as though the tension was easing. Conversation and drinking slowly returning with the sounds of clinking glass and pouring liquor.

Nomura looked around herself, no longer the subject of attention, and started to believe perhaps in all the confusion Stricklander might have forgotten whatever stern word he had planned for Nomura.

She started to side-step to the corners of the speakeasy, tip-toeing to a dark part of the speakeasy,  when Stricklander snapped his finger at her sharply, and just as sharply thumbed at his office.

Anger and disappointment prominent on his features. There was no getting out of trouble today, not even after her display of strength with Mumford.

Nomura deflated her chest, and dejectedly walked towards Stricklander’s office already feeling her ears hurt with the talking to she was about to be given.

This was Stricklander to Krax. As warm as steel and twice as sharp.

And now…well…Krax wasn’t so sure…

“NOW THE DREADNOUGHT’S A-HOWLIN’ DOWN THE WILD IRISH SEA~ HER PASSENGERS MERRY~ WITH HEARTS FULL OF GLEE~”

Strickler’s incessant singing cut through Krax’s memory like a spike in a railway. He had reached the threshold to Strickler’s containment with a grumble and a small slosh of his water bucket.

// 

Thank you for reading!

#Trollhunters #Tales of Arcadia #Toa Trollhunters #Terpsichore #Nico Writes #Walter Strickler #Stricklander #Strickler #Waltolomew Stricklander #Nomura #Zelda Nomura #Krax #changelings #that 1920s rumble feel #OCs #Original Characters a plenty #have I mentioned how much I can't wait to explore Nomura and Strickler's weird found family relationship? Cause I can't wait!! #ACT II OOOF

[neo-shitty]

teaser — roger rabbit (l.mh)

description. notorious troublemaker lee minho teeters between suspension and expulsion when he finally gets caught. except it’s for something he didn’t do and when the boy cries ‘innocent’, no one bats an eyelash to drive the wolves of consequence away. with only one eye witness and the world’s faith turned away from him, it’s up to his friends to white out a well-earned reputation and serve justice where it’s due. (all prior cases that led up to said notorious reputation aside, though.)

pairings. none. ok maybe it’s 3racha x the checkmate ocs and a pinch of minho x everybody. 

genre. adventure, comedy, platonic!au, friendship!au, high school!au, a pinch of angst and fluff sprinkled everywhere

warnings. none (teaser)

word count. 2.8k (teaser), 26.8k (whole fic)

[ READ THE WHOLE FIC HERE. ]

taglist: @lixesque​ @dominonation​ @subways-stuff​ @lixiesbabyhands​ @jensrose​ @rae-blogging​ @onlysolane​ @koroleva-rezni​ 

notes. behold, my so-called breather fic that ended up at 20k. this is yet another installment to the in these halls series. it’s set a year before the events of checkmate, an establishment of the checkmate friend group than anything else. i would like to address the lack of pairings in this fic. checkmate was never meant to be read with a ‘y/n’ character, so in this au, i’ve completely omitted them from this story. roger rabbit will be told from six various perspectives: from the boys of 3racha and the 3 ocs from checkmate. BUT the plot revolves around minho, folks. i did that man so dirty in checkmate. anyway, enjoy!

BEFORE. Lee Minho. October 26th, Friday.

The afternoon bell often meant the culmination of all the shenanigans on the fourth floor of the Hui Building. Apparently, that wasn’t the case for today.

11-A scattered as soon as the familiar chime of the afternoon bell came in through the speakers, echoing a tune down the hallways that was more ominous than it let on. The high pitched clangs of the metal poles elicited panic across those who knew the consequences of being caught outside classrooms after the bell rang. The halls bustled with students rushing to get back to their rooms, boisterous chit-chat fading into whispers as they disappeared into their respective cubes. Chairs clattered as they’re dragged back into place, whiteboards squeaked as they’re wiped clean, and students filed back to their seats.

Minho hopped off the front desk as his mind registered the sound of the school bell above the game noises his phone emitted. His eyes and thumbs remained glued to the screen, navigating the room blindly and hoping he wouldn’t knock yet another hydroflask off a table top. The timer on his screen showed ‘00:10’ — ten seconds to turn the tables of the game. 

He heard his name called out from the back row but he didn't look up, too engrossed. Dragging his fingers, his avatar sneaked past the enemy defense line to a route away from the center of the team fight where everyone else was on each other’s necks. There his target was sprinting back, a weakened avatar retreating back to the enemy base to refill its health bar.

A flicker from the side of his screen caught his eye, a timer ending, a recharged skill. He thumbed the button, dragging it across the screen as the arrow charged. Pointing the arrow to the edge of the screen, where the weakened hero disappeared off, trusting his knowledge of the map to guide him from months of gaming.

Then he let go, and his character shuffled weapons and aimed a bazooka at the corner.

For a moment there was nothing, just the whistle of the grenade shell as it left the barrel. He waited one second, then another, and another. Until finally, distant in the audio of his right earphone, the sound of the bomb hitting and exploding. A banner flashed on the screen, tipping the scales and bumping his team’s kill count up one more digit — one more than the other team’s. The screen froze and 8 scripted letters appeared in glowing white print then dispersed in a flurry of white specks. Game Over.

“Nice one!” Someone beamed from the back row. Jeongin leaped out of his seat, eyes disappearing into thin concaves as he smiled from ear to ear. “Who made the last kill? Was it you?”

Beside him Felix shook his head, setting his phone down and cracking his knuckles. Seungmin did the same. Jeongin turned to Minho last, as if he was the last person he expected to win the match for them. Ungrateful brat, Minho thought. But the younger boy skirted around the desks to give him a hi-touch and a small thank you and the snarky comment withered on the tip of his tongue.

“Good game.”

Minho turned. The members of the other team were already shuffling out their seats, chucking their things into their bags and making the cross to the other side of the classroom. Among them was Han Jisung who gave the winning team a slow clap.

He held out a hand, outstretched for Minho to shake.

And he took it, clasping it for the shake before he whispered, “The M in Minho stands for MVP. Remember that.”

Jisung managed a nod, grinning even as the older boy’s grip tightened around his hand. “I’ll be sure to be on your team next time,” he said, wincing, but maintaining his smile.

“Not a chance.” Minho mirrored him, his own tight-lipped smile on his mouth before he let go.

On his way to his new seat, he passed the losing team, chin high and chest puffed even his lucky strike could’ve been ruled as nothing but a stroke of luck. The games added a bit of spice to their lunch breaks and determined how they’d enjoy the afternoon. The lucky half would be able to sit on the half of the aisle closest to the door, where the air was cooler and the getaways were less noticeable, while the others sat closer to the windows and basked in the afternoon sun that burned bright and blinding.

Minho couldn’t believe it. Closest to the window yesterday, closest to the door now. He set his bag down on his new table, glancing to the end of the row and locking eyes with its previous occupant. Changbin scoffed, muttering something that he couldn’t hear across the aisle. So he yanked the chair backward, gaze unwavering and taunting. It was hard to wipe the smirk off his face, especially when he still managed to snag the seat when it was collectively kept away from him.

But the chair wasn’t where it was supposed to be and Minho noticed it a little too late.

His center of gravity shifted with the absence of the chair, careening backwards until he hit the floor with a solid, loud thud. A moment of stunned silence hung in the air of the classroom, heads turning out of both curiosity and concern. The silence didn’t last. Laughter filled the air, bubbling out of the mouths of the people in the back row. Minho felt heat spread across his skin, his face, his ears. 

“Are you alright?” 

Minho was too busy helping himself off the ground to notice that someone else offered a hand. When he looked up, he found himself looking at the girl on the chair in front of him. Lia had an outstretched hand held up, one that he felt bad for not noticing sooner. He nodded, reassuring. 

The fall captured the attention of the two other girls on her row; one with a blank, judging gaze and  the other wide-eyed with her mouth agape.

Saeyeon’s eyes didn’t linger on Minho for long and he went to dust his ass off with the spare seconds no one was keeping a too close watch on him. “You’ve done it this time, Hyunjin,” Saeyeon warned.

Minho’s ears twitch at the mention of a name, the culprit of his embarrassment finally bearing a face in his mind. Behind him, he heard faint giggles, fading as its owner slipped away from the site of his mischief. The others cleared a path for him to get away, but they didn't make a move to block Minho. Not that it would’ve done much.

Their classroom was small. Hyunjin managed to vault over a row of desks once to escape the grasp up the older boy but the ways out the room were shut and with the hallways off limits after the bell rang, Hyunjin didn’t have much room to run to.

It didn’t take long for him to be cornered. He stood with his back against the front door, trapped by the frontrow killjoys who were unwilling to aid him on his escapade and by Minho who blocked his only other way out. 

“I’m sorry!”

Hyunjin shrank when Minho grabbed him, the tall boy reduced to a crouching wimp backed up against a solid surface of the door. Minho tightened his grasp, hand framing the twin bones of the younger boy’s arm.

“It’s alright, it’s alright.” Minho tried to muster the most gentle voice. The back row erupted into snickers as the scene unfolded up front like a school play scene. “I just want you to remember what I said.”

The blond blinked back, clueless.

Minho frowned. “My, aren’t you a forgetful guy.” He tightened his grip again and the younger boy’s eyes flicker over to him. “How many degrees did I tell you?”

Hyunjin’s giggles seized for a sliver of a moment. And Minho thought the boy had forgotten all about it, opening his mouth to repeat the phrase when, “180, 180!”

“180, what?”

“180 degrees,” Hyunjin stammered, but still managed to squeeze a giggle in between. “180 degrees for 20 minutes to cook me in an air fryer.”

It almost made Minho smile. “Good.”

He pulled the boy off the ground, standing at eye level for a moment. His lips parted to say something, but fell short when the door swung open.

Rays of bright light spilled into the dim classroom and the secrets of the dark cube lay exposed to those who were prying. The sunlight was blinding, enough to have him squinting to make out who stood by the entrance. Three silhouettes, enveloped in white light and nearly impossible for him to recognize. 

“Well,” a voice said. “When are you going to move out of the way, Lee Minho?”

Minho knew that voice too well. It belonged to the bane of his high school existence; the one that shouted his name way too many times down long hallways and through the school’s announcement system, so damn much that he started to hate it. Recognizable even without the layers of autotune, Director Park stood by the doorway, flanked by the Student’s Affairs Chief Mrs. Gong and the student council president Brian — the SSA’s beloved (but hated by most students including himself) ‘gotta-keep-these-animals-in-check’ triumvirate. 

The fluorescent lights of the classroom flickered on overhead, basking everyone in steady light for the triumvirate to scrutinize. Minho hated it when the trio visited, it never meant anything good. He’d had enough of them tailing him for anything he did, though he knew they were there for good reason. He’d been stirring trouble for them for the past three school years he’d been enrolled and they were right to be cautious of him. Their rules had loopholes; he just happened to be good at spotting and exploiting them.

“You must be wondering why we’re here.” Director Park’s voice boomed from across the room as Minho made his way back to his seat, answering the question no one dared to ask. The old man swept the room like a scanner, burning through eye sockets as he met each students’ gaze. He settled on Minho longest and they locked eyes like rivals in a ring before the match starts.

The old man is the first to relent, tearing his eyes away to gesture at the student beside him. Brian nodded lightly before he turned to the class. 

“We’re here to do a mandatory bag check. Bags on the table, now.” He didn’t explain further, immediately walking over to the first row to start checking.

The gears in Minho’s mind churned in speculation. Fridays were standard for bag checking days, but October itself wasn’t in bag checking season. The checks only ever happened nearing the end of the semester which was well over a month away. A quarter of the council’s force would join Brian on his hunt to expose students but never the other members of the triumvirate. Minho glanced down the row, catching a glimpse of Chan’s confusion then proceeded to tick a box on his mental checklist of things that would support his hypothesis. One clueless council member down and one other to go. He leaned over to the row in front of him, tapping Taehee’s shoulder before he asked.

“Did you know about this?” he whispers, hypothesis strengthened when Taehee shook her head. 

Whatever the reason for the bag check, it wasn’t disclosed to the rest of the council members. And whatever it was, it was serious enough to warrant the presence of two of the most powerful administration officers. 

A few vape sticks, cigarette packs, and a ‘water’ bottle filled with liquor later, Brian cleared the student in front of Minho and made his way to the last row. The older boy’s eyes ran over Minho in the same scanning fashion the director did, searching for discrepancies like they always did when they walked past each other.

“Improper uniform again, Lee,” Brian muttered, flipping his infamous ticket-to-hell booklet to the nearest available sheet. He set it on the desk, topping it with a ballpen for Minho to sign himself on to. Minho checks the tick boxes blindly, muscles gaining memory after filling the receipt way too many times to count.

“At least I’m present.” Minho grinned as he handed the booklet back. 

The sloppy thing was down to its last few leaflets. Brian was due for another booklet change and he still had half a semester to get through. It made Minho wonder how much he contributed to the thinning of its available sheets. 

“Why the sudden bag check?”

“Student council lost something.” Brian didn’t look up when he answered, too busy pulling out unused notebooks and untouched textbooks out of the depths of Minho’s bag.

The latter studied the president’s face. He kept a poker face, but the creases on his forehead showed his agitation and the underlying frustration that came with whatever was missing. 

But before he could ask for further details, Brian stilled. The brief pause sent Minho into a mini-panic. Did he accidentally leave something behind? Fridays weren’t safe anymore and he learned that the hard way. He made sure his bags were contraband-free during those days, even bothering to double-check every Friday morning.

“Minho.” 

He didn’t miss the tone drop, it made him uneasy—anxious. He slipped his arm beneath the table, putting a weight on his leg to keep it from bouncing. “You can’t find anything there. I didn’t bring anything with me today.” He said, mustering his confidence that his bag was indeed devoid of anything they could be snooping for.

Again, Brian didn’t answer and Minho would’ve pried for one if the former didn’t pick something out of his backpack. A brown paper bag, weighted, thick, and definitely not empty.

Minho unconsciously looked around, scanning for any hidden cameras that could be filming him but there were none. He didn’t recall seeing a brown bag when he opened his bag earlier that day. How Brian managed to pull it out of nowhere? Minho didn’t have the answers. “What’s that?”

The older boy stared, unamused. “I don’t know, you tell me.” 

Brian dropped the bag onto Minho’s desk. Minho avoided the older boy’s gaze, pushing himself up and peering down the bag to check its contents. Inside were papers coiled by rubber bands — wads of money, Minho realized — stacked horizontally to fill the bottom of the paper bag. Pieces fell into place in his mind; the reason behind the rushed bag search, the item the council lost, the stash of money in his backpack.

“Brian, did you find something?” 

And before Minho could utter a word in his defense, Brian picked the bag off of his desk and raised it for the class to see. 

Breaths hitch, hushed whispers, stunned silence. Eyes turned to the bag, to Brian, then to him last but only he felt the weight of their gazes, the heaviness of passed judgment. He was just as stunned as everyone else.

“I didn’t do it, I swear.” It was the first thing he blurted out when Brian turned back to face him, but the older boy only casted him a frown. 

He sounded ridiculous and he looked the part too, caught red-handed and recycling the same line he used to get away with everything in a pathetic attempt to defend himself. Everyone heard it way too many times and have been fooled just as much. Their eyes held no surprise, like they knew if the culprit was anyone in the class, it would’ve been him.

“Lee Minho.” The voice snapped him out of his head, chucking him back into the classroom to face the looming reality of his situation. “If you could follow us downstairs?” 

The walk down was a blur of three backs leading him through flights of staircases and endless hallways. When he was asked about the bag and its contents, he answered with nothing but his version of the truth but it wasn’t what they wanted to hear. They stared at him, disbelieving, like there was no way in hell he was still trying to get himself out of this one when he’d been shoved to the corner. 

Except he really was telling them the truth this time, yet the idea of him being set up was hilarious to them—bordering made up than reality. He walked out the Director’s office with his head down, hands shaking, winded. It wasn’t the first time the triumvirate deliberated on what to do to him but it was the first time he was this shaken and unsure. It didn’t even matter that he told the truth this time. With how things have been set up, all signs pointed nowhere else but his direction.

For the first time, he dreaded the moment they'd come out to tell him he’d been suspended because he knew deep down that this might be his last time.

© neo-shitty, 2021

#kwritersworldnet #stayhavennet #minho fluff #minho angst #skz minho #minho x reader #skz drabble #skz imagines #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know drabble #skz x reader #lee know x reader #minho imagine #skz imagine #skz fluff #skz angst #minho imagines #toff.writes