#(our eyes me like camera lenses with different focuses huh)

[internalsealpanic]

Three Times You forgot Your Glasses Plus the One Time Kon Remembered

Summary: Various things I’ve put my glasses through but with more Kon Kent involved. a/n: In celebration of me getting my eyes checked after a year, here is a fic about glasses. Thanks to @glorified-red for the ideas and @littleredwing89 for proofreading and the banner Warnings: Abuse of glasses

1: Monster Madness

You watch the blood splatter with mild disinterest, mind more concerned with the weird zig-zagging of the camera and the plethora of cheap-looking animatronics. You really should go to a theme park for Halloween.  Or you could just get the animatronics. You did promise Bart to give him a heart attack after that incident during April Fools but... it's a Friday night and both you and the week are winding down so here you are flat on your stomach squinting at your laptop with your cheeky boyfriend.

"Heads up!" The man on screen says tossing a severed head.

"Someone has finally beaten you for the worst catchphrase of the year," Kon says.

You run a cold toe over his leg. "Suck this was not that bad." You grouse, earning you a snort from Kon.

"Leave the catchphrases to the professionals."

"Right," you say, looking back at the screen."Somehow our apartment is more cluttered than the horror mansion."

"Dunno what you mean," Kon mumbles, squishing his face to his arm.

You squint, "Did you miss the sock in the dishwasher or did I hallucinate that?"

"Vivid hallucination."

You squint at him even louder and Kon just hums at you.

"Ok," he sighs, angling his body towards you. "I may or may not have been less than sober."

You hum, "I think you were high on pixie sticks."

"Hey, sugar high is a real problem, gorgeous."

"Sure, it is." You giggle running a hand through his curly hair and brushing your thumb against his cheek. He's so warm and cute and the smile on his face makes your insides all fuzzy.

"Just keep watching the movie, doll," Kon says, kissing your wrist.

The movie prattles on getting more and more ridiculous as it goes on. You and Kon weren't really expecting quality but this was a different ball game.

"This looks like a lingerie commercial," you snicker.

"Is this not why you suggested this movie?"

"It most certainly is not," you huff as a child explodes on screen. A wire-y feeling takes over your body. You feel so light and airy. Your head is drifting away.

"You're going to fall asleep with your glasses on," Kon says, poking your cheek.

You nudge your foot to his as you knock your head lightly against his shoulder. Your lids feel heavy. A yawn rolls off your lips as if the concept of tiredness and sleep did not exist until Kon had spoken it into existence.

You blink slowly mind focusing on light smudges on the lenses. You're not particularly forgetful, not really. You're just tangled with your neurons all firing in 7 different directions, 14 if you're on the cusp of sleep, and none of them ever seem to register that your eyesight isn't actually worth a damn. You tilt your head, squishing your face into Kon's hand. "Just remind me then."

"What if I forget?" Kon asks, tangling his leg with yours. His hand threads through your hair and the warm pressure of it makes your eyelids feel even heavier.

You blow out a breath. "The world will explode." You boop Kon's nose for effect.

Kon grins, delicately wrapping his hand around yours and kissing your fingers. "Guess I better not forget, huh gorgeous?"

"Mhmm."

Kon's not entirely sure when he'd fallen asleep or who'd fallen asleep first. He opens his eyes to see your face illuminated but the changing colors of the screen, a scene he can barely make out reflected on your glasses which are now smudged and crooked on your face. You are incurably adorable.

"Babe," Kon whispers softly, rubbing your back.

You moan and squeeze your eyes tighter.

Kon looks at the clock and winces. "Babe, it’s 1 AM." He kisses the crown of your head and shakes your shoulder.

"Then why are you awake?" You ask, still not opening your eyes.

Your face is squooshed into your arm while your hand is intertwined with his. Kon curses himself for not charging his phone. Maybe he can use yours but that meant getting up and letting go of your hand.

"Your glasses are still on."

"How else am I supposed to see my dreams?"

"Pfff, you’re a nerd you know that, right?" Kon kisses your nose.

Your nose scrunches. "Hnnnnnn, sounds like your type. Now go back to sleep."

Kon lets out a soundless laugh. "Lemme just..." He takes off your glasses, very careful not to jostle you too much. He folds your glasses neatly on your laptop and uses his tactile kinesis to move both.

He pulls you into his chest as he closes his eyes.

2: Kiss in the Rain

"I'm just gonna get a quick shower before we go!"

"Quick means I can sneak in a two-hour nap," Kon says, plopping on the couch.

You click your teeth and stick your tongue out at him from the door.

He burrows into the blanket you'd left there the night before. "Wake me when you’re ready." He says smugly but annoyingly endearing.

"Or I could just leave you and grab brunch with the others."

"You would never."

"Pretty confident aren't you?" You narrow your eyes at him.

"Yeah," he says smiling into the soft fabric, "cus it's my turn to pay."

You purse your lips and try your best to death glare at him.

He hums waiting for your undoubtedly witty response . "I won’t be long," You huff, throwing your shorts in his face.

Kon waves the shorts like a flag.  "I'll be waiting, Babe!"

You loudly stop into the room, your footsteps sounding wet against the hardwood floor.

Kon yawns and stretches, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "What’s wrong, doll?" He has to slap his hand on his mouth when he sees you.

You pad around the room with your obviously drenched glasses, feeling for your glasses cleaner.

"You forgot again, huh?" He snickers helpfully.

You turn to him sharply. "No, I decided to see if my conditioner would work on them."  You say elongating your syllables to convey your frustration.

"You always did say you wanted to kiss in the rain without getting wet." He laughs, sitting up and ruffling his bed head.

"Very helpful." You hiss, picking through odd bits of life on your coffee table. You really need to clean your apartment. You run a hand through your wet hair. "Have you seen my eyeglass cleaner?"

Kon rests against the couch. "You mean the one in the sink?"

You shoot up. "Fuck."

"We could."

"Oh fuck you," you throw a chip at him. "Do you know where my spare is?"

"Nnnn, in my jacket."

You pause to look at him. "Which one?"

"The leather one."

"Which one?"

Kon thinks it over. "The one with studs."

"Ah." You shuffle through the closet and find your spare covered cheese and what looks to be mold. You gag and toss it into the trash.

You sigh dramatically as you walk back into the living room, your glasses still very smudgy and very wet. Standing in front of Kon, you pout crossing your arms. There wasn’t much either of you could really do about it but you weren’t really sure how to work off your now sour mood.

Kon smiles up at you indulgently. "C'mere," he says, putting his hand on the back of your neck.

You let him pull you in as if gravity had taken hold of your body instead of Kon. Then again, was there really any difference?

Your lips meld together in a warm embrace. They push and pull at each other seeking out every curve and ridge til their shapes are imprinted on each other's skin. You gently push Kon back, not breaking the kiss, and settle yourself on his lap. He traces a hand up your spine, lips curving into a smile as every nerve in your body awakens to his touch.

You eventually break for air but not before nibbling on his bottom lip. "That's not how people kiss in the rain." You say breathlessly.

Kon tilts his head to the side, obviously equally breathless even as he cuts you a sharp grin. "How would you do it?"

"Like this." You brush your thumb against his cheek before swooping in for another kiss.

3: Steamy Kon pulls back his shades over his head like a headband as he tells you about Tim smacking into a building in an effort to avoid an alien. He tells the story with an enthusiastic swoop of his hand and a voice that rises just above the jumbled sounds of the diner.

You slouch into your moldy seat, wondering if a supervillain was somehow close by or if supervillains avoided the Midwest like the plague. Maybe you should move to the Midwest or not... They may have more diners without chocolate chip pancakes. They really should consider serving that market, you think, only half-listening to Kon's story.

"You know that anyone can hear you, right?" You say, tilting the fluffy mess of pancake batter and blueberries the size of pebbles. The underside drips a thick midnight blue and the only evidence of the pancake batter is the sweet smell of butter intertwined with the rich tangy scent of blueberries.

"Unlike you city folk, we mind our own business," Kon waves you off with a mouthful of pancakes. For once, he sounds particularly Kansan as if the whole clone thing had just been some fever dream you had after watching too many 50s sci fi movies. Or maybe Kansas has a Twilight zone effect on him that strips all the city out of him. He’d even exchanged his leather jacket for a plaid button-up.

"The English language does not have nearly enough words to fully express how much of dork you are." You say inanely picking at your pancakes.

Kon narrows his eyes at you, blue bleeding out from his pretty lips. You cover your own to hide a smile. "You're just saying that." He rolls his eyes at you.

"Trust me I don't need Lex's lab to prove that you're a dork." You cut into your pancakes ignoring how the blue will likely stain your new Superboy hoodie. "I can see it even without my-" Your glasses fog up.

"You were saying, sweetcheeks."You can tell from the silhouette beyond the haze that Kon is being a smug little shit. He leans closer, blowing on your face. "Maybe they’re steaming up because I’m such hot stuff." You can't see but you're pretty sure that he has a grin you want to slap off.

You jab your fork at the air to shoo him away from your poor glasses. "Well, I  can least leave you and your ego alone while I eat in peace." You huff. The corners of your mouth are finding it extremely hard to stay down.

"As if! You'll be staring at me with those heart eyes the whooooole time," Kon says leaning forward. The tip of his finger presses against the wide lens of your glasses.

"Did you just forget how fog works?" You ask when Kon falls back into his seat.

"A little."

You let out an incredibly undignified snort as you take your glasses off.  You trace the smudgy path his fingers left before putting your glasses back on.

Kon's lovestruck expression is framed in smudgy in a smudgy heart.

Kon tries to hide his smile by rubbing his nose."Which one of us is the dork again?"

"I do it with style." You say taking a bite of your pancakes.

+1: Roller Coaster of a Ride

Apparently, the city has tried to get the ride banned. You lookup. There doesn't seem to be any integrity problems. You loop your pinky finger with Kon's as you read the sign for the roller coaster. Kon shifts his hand slowly interlacing his fingers with yours. Vaguely, you hear Cassie over the phone. You twitch your pinky finger.

"Oh yeah, (Y/n) says hi."

You smile a little too broadly when he got the gesture. You lean your head on his shoulder and try to ignore the urge to kiss the corner of his lip.

"It goes 150 miles per hour." You whistle.

"Babe, we both know I can go faster."

Side-eyeing him you ask: "Can you last longer?"

Kon chokes and you think you hear Cassie cackle on the other end. You quietly bask in your glory while Kon keeps arguing over the phone. From the odd bits and ends of the conversation you could hear, you could tell Tim and Bart (and possibly Cissie) have joined in on ganging up on  Kon. You may or may not be a little too helpful with their quest to make Kon's life hell.

Kon is huffy until you reach the end of the line. "Oh, babe." He points to his face. Your hands shoot up to your glasses and heat rises in your ears. Gingerly, you take them off, pause, then debate whether you should put them in your pocket (which was too loose) or hold on to them (brings up the question how good your grip is).

"I'll hold 'em," Kon says, holding out his hand.

You squint up at him, his face a vague suggestion of colors and shapes."What if you break them?"

Kon's silhouette makes a gesture like he's been struck.

You volley it with an aggressively tired look and cross your arms.

Kon doesn't withdraw his hand. "I'll take care of it like I take care of you." He kisses your brow. It's really not that you don't trust him. You really wouldn't let him drop you 200 feet in the air just to catch you but you're anxious when you can't see.

With a defeated sigh, you put your glasses in his hand. You look up at him wearily to which he responds to by pressing a reassuring hand to your back. You let out a breath and hold onto his belt loop as you enter the platform.

You both stare at the broken fragments in Kon's hands. You pick up a piece of glass that used to be part of your lenses and hold it up to your face. The corner of your mouth twitches. "Well, I certainly hope you don't do that to me." Your voice is flat, not quite sure how to ebb the oncoming wave off panic. You don't want this to ruin your date with Kon.

Kon watches your expression carefully, parsing through the little twitches and changes. You weren't angry or you didn't seem to be. Frustrated, yes. Amused, definitely. But it's something else muddling everything. Kon closes his eyes. He tries to take the quietest breath he can to steady himself.  "I thought you wanted me to?" He laughs but it sounds weak.

You pout at him, squinted eyes directed at his shoulder. Your hand swats at him and you're a good 6 inches off and almost hitting your hand against a metal post if he hadn't grabbed it with his own. He runs his thumb over the back of your hand. The only advantage to you being blind right now is that you can't see the absolutely gutted expression on his face.

"You're a dumbass," You huff, closing your hand around his.

He knows. He shifts his weight on his feet. "We can go-"

You tighten your hold on the back of his jacket and swallow the cold feeling rising from your gut. "You're gonna get me the cotton candy you promised, yeah?" Your voice is a little too high, too strained, too unnatural.

Kon softens at the obvious nervousness in your tone. He wraps an arm around you, his lips brushing your forehead. "Do I really need you to be sweeter than you already are?"

"You really are laying on the charm tonight, aren’t you stud?" You say, biting your lip.

"If it means I'm not sleeping on the couch." Kon presses his forehead against yours, lips almost brushing yours.

"You aren't simply for the fact that I need help getting to the bed."

"I can do more than that," Kon winks.

Wrapping your arms around his neck and steadying your still trembling legs, you brush your lips against his neck. "I'm not gonna give you the satisfaction of cumming when I can't see you begging for it." Kon looks around thankful that super hearing is something very rare. "I--" He swallows, heat is creeping up his skin.  "--Babe, if you're seriously not ok we can go home."

You bunch up the collar of his jacket, face folding into a frown.  "You were so excited to go to the theme park and we've been planning this trip for weeks..." You don't want something stupid like your glasses to ruin your day together. "C'mon Kon just a few more rides." You lean back a little farther so Kon is forced to hold you closer. "Pleeeeeeeeeaaaaaase Kon, my eyes aren't gonna be better at home. Just a few more."

Kon really has no idea how it hasn't hit you yet that he could never say no to you. "Ok. ok. Let's get some food first though."

Both Kon's breath and heart come to a full stop.

Your teeth catch against Kon's skin before pulling away.

Apparently, the theme park somehow had no cotton candy due to some kid weaponizing the cotton candy a few years ago. You had your suspicions.

You narrow your eyes a the menu. You ... can't read a thing. "Kon,"you sigh in defeat,"can you order for the both of us?"

"Hnnnnn I should get you the grossest thing on the menu."

"Well, you aren't on the menu so I think I'm pretty safe."

"Oh, I am so on the menu. I'm right over there." He points to something on the menu.

You shake your head. "Can't see."

"Can't call bullshit then."

"I revoke your cute status."

"C'mon doll, you'll always find me cute."

"Dunno, can't see."

He sighs. He hates it when you use his own argument against him.

"Can we get 1 root beer funnel cake and a strawberry one?" Kon says, raising two fingers. He looks at you then adds: "Could you add extra confectioners sugar to the strawberry one?"

You're slightly caught off guard by that detail. You never really fussed much about your orders and you don't think you've ever really mentioned your favorite flavors. You look up at Kon to thank him and ask him how but he kisses you on the nose before you can get a word out. You squish your face into Kon's back as you take a bite out of the funnel cake. Kon tilts his head back to rest on yours. "How's the cake? Please tell me I got it right."

"No, you definitely didn't." You giggle.

"Should I have gotten you the beefcake?"

You nudge your nose against his back. "Hmmmmm, yeah. It's my favorite flavor."

"The public will be notified." He laughs. The vibrations of his laughter make his back shake in a soothing wave. You wrap an arm around Kon's waist, smiling into his back.

“Listen (y/n), I’m--” You shove the last piece of your funnel cake into his face, smearing his cheek with sugar and strawberry syrup.

“You don’t need to apologize. You didn’t mean to.” You look up at him. “Besides, you’re gonna make it up to me.”

He perks up, narrowing his eyes at you suspiciously. You shrug.“Win me a prize.”

So as it turns out, Kon is terrible at carnival games, shooting ones especially.  

Clutching the oversized teddy bear he bought you from the gift shop, you laugh at him the whole way back to the car.

“I can’t believe you spent a hundred and you still couldn’t get even the jiggly snakes.” You wheeze, resting against the car.

“Gorgeous, you and I both know those things are rigged!” He protests, hand on his hips standing in front of you. You keep laughing. He puts his arms on either side of you and *tries* to look menacing. You kiss him on the nose and the mean expression on his face fades faster than Tim’s hopes of a productive team meeting.

“Yeah, yeah, I know it’s rigged but that’s not why I’m laughing.”

“Is it because I’m miserable?”

“Hmmm, no.”

“Uhuh.”

“Ok, a little,” you say, pinching your fingers together, "I’m laughing because you didn’t stop trying and that’s the dumbest and cutest thing ever.”

“I can’t tell if you’re complimenting me or insulting me.” Kon pouts, leaning in to kiss the crown of your head.

You shrug. “Either way, I’m doing it lovingly.”  

#kon el #kon el x reader #conner kent x reader #conner kent imagine

[warm-meelk]

today’s lesson is 

“People’s eyesight”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #mc #main character #dairy #lucifer #leviathan #comic #shitpost #warm art #(JDNAKSNSJ FAR SIGHTED PEEPS AREN'T ACCUARTELY LIKE THAT I PROMISE HAHAHA) #(but man when they're up close they really can't read shit) #(our eyes me like camera lenses with different focuses huh)

[unholyplumpprincess]

Horngry

(Older content)

Ya ever been angry because you’re horny but also horny because you’re angry but also because you’re lowkey pent up but also highkey it’s your fault?

Yeah. Here’s that Gibratane a/b/o fic I promised forever ago.

Reblogs > Likes

Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Octane/Gibraltar

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Trans Octavio with cunt/clit word usage, A/B/O, Beta Gibraltar bc I can, Omega Octavio, not really focused on the A/B/O aspect tbh, public sex???, fingering

Words: 1.1K

________________

The squadmate they had wasn’t bad, per say. Wasn’t a rude fella at all. A newbie, new to the ring and a little bit of a pushover and wanted to be the leader. Again, not a bad guy, just new.

Yet, Octane could not fucking stand him right now.

It was him and Gibraltar, his large boyfriend, and this guy. This fucking. Guy.

Maybe it was Octane being close to his heat and forgetting suppressants that morning to help dull the pain and need. Maybe it was his short fuse and quick temper. Maybe it was because this guy was eyeing up his Beta as if Makoa was a delicious meal for him to have.

That was his boyfriend. His. Not this guy’s, not this fucking guy’s who was driving him up a wall.

~Rest under the cut~

So, Octane, being the kind of person he was, tries to play it off with jokes. Starts poking a little too deep into this poor newbie. Octane thinks he might be a beta who wants to be an alpha with how he’s taking Octane’s light insults way too hard to heart.

“You really almost lost your footing there, huh, compadre?” It’s the little things said with enough challenge to them. Because Octane’s starting to feel it, the need to be a brat, to press and push and piss off someone or something because he can’t stand the silence.

He doesn’t even notice Makoa nearby until the newbie is near Octane and snarling. “You really need to watch who you’re talking to, Omega.” And the way it’s said. The way ‘Omega’ is said like a bad thing, like he’s an item and not a person, has him just about pouncing.

Yet, like a naughty kitten caught mid-air, he’s grabbed by his shoulder by a firm, large hand. The scent of dark chocolate and spices washing over him quickly so Octavio’s growl stops midway.

“I think,” Makoa starts, perfectly chipper and ready to make amends. “That we need to have our time apart. Dontcha’ think, broda?” Whilst looking pointedly at the newbie who has been itching to partways ever since he joined this damn team.  

The guy huffs, shooting a glare at Octavio as if he’s won with his last word before trotting off in the other direction.

Octavio, by now, is steamed and mad. He was going to punch the shit out of that guy! What gave him the right to say it like that?! As if he was being over emotional!? Maybe he was! Maybe he was fed up! Maybe he was achingly wet now that Makoa was holding him tight like this! Wasn’t his fault!

Makoa, as if sensing it, looks around them in the ring. Ten squads left.

They had time.

Octavio is practically vibrating in his hands by the time Makoa can lift him up into his large arms to hold him firmly. And immediately Octavio is throwing a fit. “I could have kicked his ass! Why did you stop me! Let me down! I am going to show him who he thinks he is-!”  

Lips gently press to the corner of his mouth through his mask. It effectively makes Octavio pause mid-shout, looking up at his gentle giant of a partner through his green lensed goggles. The look is enough to get him to swallow as Makoa gives a lopsided smile, patient as ever with his spunky boyfriend.

“And I’m sure ya’ could have. But, we have a game to win, and you are far too fed up ta’ be out dere talkin’ like that. C’mon, Gibraltar will take care of ya’.” It’s a promise, how he smiles and dimples show up on his cheeks and some of his hair is falling from his bun. Octavio is a weak man. Dumbly nodding instead and eagerly allowing himself to be carried to a nearby building.

There’s not much they can do under a short period of time. So Makoa ends up with Octavio on his lap. Himself pressed up against a wall so he could have his smaller partner facing away from him. Pulling Octavio’s legs apart after his Omega all but rips off his own shorts to allow Makoa to touch him.

Resting his chin on Octavio’s shoulder as the mentioned man’s head falls back against him, he kisses at the exposed, tanned flesh there. Earning him a shudder from Octavio as his fingers make quick work of him.

Two fingers curl inside of Octavio’s dripping cunt. His fingers, large and thick making him feel stuffed enough he’s not whining for more. Letting his palm rest against Octavio’s swollen clit so he can grind the heel of it into him.

Makoa isn’t rushed, he knows Octavio is a quick partner. The Omega whimpers, hips humping up into Makoa’s hand with absolute need. If Makoa, perhaps, was a different sort of man, perhaps he’d have taken him here. Rough, hard, without too much of a thought for Octavio’s pleasure.

Yet instead, despite being hard against Octavio’s ass, he’s more than content to finger fuck his partner and kiss at his pulse point. Licking over the sensitive flesh there as Octavio’s voice hitches. “Ah- there, there, there- like that. Yessss yes yes fuck- ah Makoa-”  

He sounds so beautiful, Makoa thinks. How his skin is glistening with a sheen of sweat, how his mask must be so humid with each breath he takes. Knowing his eyes are rolling back in his goggles from the way Octavio’s head rolls too. Feeling Octavio clenching down on his fingers, fluttering and twitching his hips to try and gain more. Make Makoa hit that spot again and again with a curl and ‘come hither’ motion of his fingers.

Makoa hums in response. The low tone of his voice making his chest rumble as he chuckles. “C’mon. Let me feel you cum for me. They might even hear ya’ on the cameras, huh?” He taunts, knowing Octavio gets off on the thrill of being watched.

That does the trick. Octavio surges forward, but one of Makoa’s hands keeps flat between his chest. Feeling the fluttering of his heart as Octavio’s sweet little cunt clenches desperately on his fingers. Feeling his clit twitch and jerk against his palm as he rubs Octavio through it. Feeling liquid squirting from him, coating his palm and hitting the metal floor underneath them as Octavio whines and sobs out in pleasure.

Frustrations worked out, Makoa carefully dresses him once more. Holding the Omega to his chest with a bit of a laugh once Octavio is up and chipper again.

“Alright! Let’s go! Faster, faster, faster, race you down the hill!”

#Gibtane #Gibraltar x Octane #Gibraltar #Octane #Apex lemons #apex legends #nsft #lemon #princess writing #omfg thisis so old jeez

[alexboehm55144]

Alex Final Wars 2: Dark Alex, Chapter 29 - Undercover

“You look good,” Jack said, glancing over the Heroes leader in front of him, who was dressed in a fashionable and elegant black tuxedo.

“Really?” Alex said, looking at his own face in the mirror.

“Yeah, I can’t tell it’s you.”  

“Are the contact lenses irritating your eyes?” Skye asked.

“No, they’re fine.” The captain responded, examining the reflection of his eye. The iris was now a brown color instead of its natural olive green.

“What about the makeup? And that fake scar?”

“Also fine, it’s not bothering me.”

“Ok, that should be enough to keep your true identity hidden from prying eyes at the party.”

“Besides,” Jack chimed in “people tend to see uniforms, not faces.”

“Are you sure this is going to be enough?” Captain Boehm inquired “my face has probably been plastered all over Chinese territory we’re heading into, as ‘public enemy number 1”

“Don’t worry, it’s plenty enough.” Skye said, “we do this all the time, there are billions of mammals in this world, some people are going to look similar to others.”

“Everything else is ready.” Jack said “Our false party invitations are set, and so is transport. The generals we’re after are confirmed to still be in attendance.”

“We can’t being weapons, so we will have to take them out paw to paw. Or rather.... hand to paw in your case, Alex.”

“Now we’re just waiting for our 4th member.”

As if on cue, the 4th member of their infiltration team entered the room.

“How do I look?” JayJay asked. She wasn’t dressed drastically different from her normal self. She sported a red dress, however, this one was longer, and wasn’t ripped in places as part of a fashion choice. This dress also had a shiny exterior that made it look like it was made of crystals that shimmered in the light.

JayJay’s fur was also different, instead of being dyed blue, it was a cream color.

“Wow, you look good.” The Heroes captain said, giving a thumbs up. “I like the dress.”

The wolf blushed as red as her dress and thanked him for the compliment.

“I agree.” Skye said “a fashionable outfit that’s perfect for a mission like this. And the different color fur dye should also help.”

“Oh, this isn’t dye, this is my natural fur color.”

“That’s your natural fur color?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, what do you think?”

“I like it, but in my mind, I will always remember you as having blue fur.”

JayJay blushed again, this time not as strongly.

“Ok lovebirds,” Jack said, “if your done flirting, we can get to our mission.”

“Oh hush Jack,” Skye said, “You flirt like this with me almost all the time.”

Now it was Jack’s turn to blush as Alex and JayJay chuckled.

000

The boat ride to the Taiwanese shore had gone off without a hitch. Although there were some Chinese patrol boats in the vicinity, the Chinese were eager to protect their recent conquest. Searchlights and machine guns trained back and forth as the vessels meandered through the water. Fortunately, the typhoon was secluded away from prying eyes, with the necessary precautions taken to make sure it stayed hidden.

Now the 4 heroes were walking down a brightly lit street, nearing a large and fancily decorated community building, which was swarming with photographers and partygoers of all species. Large Chinese flags draped down from the building, as people talked, ate, and drank, with everyone dressed in elegant clothing.

Pairs of bodyguards stood to watch at different size doors corresponding to different sized animals. A tiger and human stood outside a door for medium-sized mammals, which Alex and JayJay moved towards. Meanwhile, Jack and Skye moved towards a door for smaller mammals, which was guarded by a pair of goats.

The pairs held up bright red and gold invitations on expensive paper, the items having been generously provided by the ZIA. The guards patted the heroes down, making sure they were not carrying any weapons, before waving them through into the building, where the pairs rejoined each other. After passing through a small atrium, the group emerged into a large party area, which was packed with partygoers. More Chinese banners and bright lights hung down from the ceiling. Mammals chatted and socialized or visited the bar, which had an expansive menu of liquor behind it. The whole room was alive, and a dull roar of sound was constantly present.

Waiter mammals in formal attire rushed to and fro with plates of hors d'oeuvres and glasses of liquid, making sure the guests were satisfied. Some mammals rushed over to present the 4 operatives with these appetizers, to which they declined.

The 2 couples split up again, as not to draw attention. Jack and Skye mingled with some of the mammals, while Alex and JayJay hung out near a staircase that led to an upper balcony.

“Aww, no dance floor?” JayJay whispered, putting on a pouty expression.

“The idea is not to draw attention to yourself.” The Heroes captain whispered back.

“I know, but I love dancing.”

“I’m noticing security cameras set up around this place,” Skye said over the radio. Their frequency was encrypted, making sure no Chinese forces would be listening in. “We’ll need to disable them before we do anything.”

“Do that later.” JayJay said, “that way they won’t have time to fix the cameras.”

“Clever wolf,” Alex said.

“Alright, then now we just wait,” Jack said.

“Say, Alex, JayJay, Jack and I were wondering something,” Skye said. “Do you think there is evil Jack and Skye out there somewhere?”

The human and wolf thought for a moment. They had considered the possibility of more dark counterparts existing. But the origin of such counterparts still eluded them, and they knew very little of their dark doubles, which was a scary thought.

“It wouldn’t surprise me if such entities existed.” Captain Boehm said.

“But we would have seen them by now.” JayJay chimed in.

“Yeah, unless they are working behind the scenes or something. But still, we would have seen them by now. If there is an evil Jack and Skye somewhere, it’s not here.”

“What about somewhere else?” Jack asked.

“.....Probably. But where that is, I have no idea. This is why we have to stop our counterparts and the Chinese. We can't let some dark and twisted versions of ourselves wreak havoc."

"I wish I could get my hands on my counterpart," JayJay said, shaking her fists as some of her rage from the past bubbled up to the surface.

As the agents continued to wait, Jack and Skye mingled a bit, trying to blend into the crowd, but being cautious not to make themselves to memorable to other partygoers. Alex and JayJay on the other hand just rested in random spots around the room, completely keeping to themselves as not to draw any attention. Everyone else was too busy socializing and drinking to notice a pair of mammals just standing there. JayJay did keep mentioning wanting to get on the dance floor, but the Heroes captain was able to keep her in check.

At long last, the 4 operatives noticed Chinese soldiers roaming through the party, looking at tables, walls, and furniture, along with other objects and structures. They even talked to some people.

“What's that all about?” JayJay asked.

“Maybe they’re securing the place for the generals.” Jack hypothesized. “Stay low, don’t draw attention to yourselves.”

A human Chinese soldier with an SMG strapped across her chest moved towards JayJay and Alex, keen eyes scanning for any danger or something out of the ordinary.

JayJay gestured slightly to the approaching Chinese soldier.

“I know, incoming.” The Heroes captain said as the trooper moved closer, going through the crowd. “I have an idea.”

The two Heroes operatives leaned in close, closed their eyes, and gently locked lips in a loving kiss. The party going on around them seemed to move away, the two only focused on each other.

The Chinese soldier continued to scan the area and saw the pair of mammals, but she quickly turned and left the immediate area once she saw what the two were doing.

As the trooper moved away, the human and wolf broke the kiss. The latter participant smiled at what had just occurred.

“Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable.” The captain said.

“Huh, smart move. Feel free to use it again sometime.”

The Chinese troops moved towards the main door and disappeared from view. Shortly after they left, 3 figures entered the room, consisting of a red panda, a tiger, and a human. Each of them was dressed in an extremely formal military uniform that was dark green in color, and adorned with ribbons of honor on the chest, along with stars on the shoulders.

“There they are,” Skye said.

The trio of generals chatted and started to mingle. Getting refreshments & speaking with other guests.

“Tail them.” Jack said, directing his eyes towards the red panda that was his target. “keep your eyes and ears peeled.”

“Roger, I’ll get the tiger, Jay, you keep your eyes on the human.” Captain Boehm said, separating from the wolf he was with.

“I’ll go take care of the cameras now,” Skye said, leaving the main party area and entering a set of hallways that went throughout the community building. The hallway walls and the carpet on the floor were deep shades of red, and circular stone columns of similar color were positioned at regular intervals. Paintings and artifacts were also situated throughout the hallways, giving people something to look at. However, there were no other mammals in this area of the building. Everyone was busy socializing in the main area.

The ZIA agent kept walking, pretending to look at the artwork on the wall, but also making sure to be aware of her surroundings. Skye noted a metal electrical box on the wall and quickly recognized it as part of the security system. Thankfully the box was at the right height for a mammal of her size. The agent noted the warning sticker symbols on the metal that gave away the object’s nature as something that only security personnel should work on. Along with the box’s sturdy nature that was designed to avoid tampering.

But that would not stop Skye. There was a camera positioned above her, but it was panning left and right down the hallway. Meaning the camera wouldn’t be able to see her for a couple moments. Taking careful note of the timing of the camera, Skye reached into her dress and pulled out a small multi-tool that she had smuggled into the building.

When the camera was facing away from her, she inserted an implement into the lock on the security box and managed to unlock it. The camera started to pan back towards her, so the cunning fox immediately turned towards one of the paintings on the wall. She put on an expression that made her look like she was deep in thought and gazing at the artwork. When the camera panned away from her again, the agent moved towards the box once more.

Skye opened up the metal door of the box and found a security interface. She took out her phone and popped off the back of the device, revealing the computer chips and circuits. She then pulled out one of the chips, which in reality was a separate device entirely that had been hidden in the phone. She plugged it into the interface and set to work, the device linking the interface to her phone

“Ok, I’m in the camera network. I can shut down the cameras from here.”

In the security room, a trio of guards looked over a set of screens that depicted what was going on in the building. Guests conversed and socialized, staff moved back and forth with trays of food and drinks.

All of a sudden the screens went black, and a message saying “signal lost” displayed over every screen. The guards groaned, this happened all the time. Their security system desperately needed an update, but unfortunately, they could never get someone out to actually work on it.

“Cameras down,” Skye said.

Captain Boehm followed one of the generals, a tiger, into the bathroom, which was unoccupied at the time. He locked the bathroom door behind the two, so there would be no interruptions. As the Tiger adjusted one of his cufflinks, the Heroes leader quickly disassembled his watch, rearranging pieces and turning it into garrote wire.

While the tiger turned his back to the captain, Alex struck, getting the wire around the general’s neck. The Chinese general tried to yell, but he couldn’t get any sound out as he was pulled into one of the stalls.

The general’s hands flailed, trying to pull the wire off his neck, and trying to reach around to attack the captain. Boehm slowly felt the tiger’s strength weakening, and eventually, he stopped resisting and went limp as he passed from the world.

The captain slowly guided the tiger’s fall to the ground, so he landed on the toilet in the stall. Alex then turned the garrote wire back into a watch and adjusted the general’s body a bit so it looked like he was just using the bathroom. The young warrior then locked the stall door, and slipped out under the divider, leaving the restroom and rejoining the party.

Elsewhere, the human general walked down an unoccupied hallway, examining some paintings hung up on the walls. Skye had linked up with JayJay, and the pair followed the general at a distance, pretending to talk amongst themselves.

The Chinese general turned to examine a painting of the Great Wall of China, and the duo made their move. The pair moved up to the human and attacked with ceramic knives that they had concealed on their persons. Rapid strikes hit the general, much too fast for him to react and fight back. Within seconds he was down, and thankfully the red carpeting helped conceal what had just happened.

“Broom closet,” Skye said, pointing to a door with the symbol of a broom on it.

The ZIA agent went to open the door, while her companion picked up what was left of the general and dragged him across the hall. The pair placed the downed enemy behind some objects in the closet, making sure to obscure him from view. Once they were done, the closet door was shut, and the pair moved on, their job complete.

The third Chinese general, the red panda, was outside, relaxing in a decorative garden adjacent to the building. Jack was also there, keeping to himself, but making sure he always had an eye on the general.

The red panda General was leaning against a low wall, on the other side of which was a beautiful pool of clear water, teeming with plants and Koi fish.

Jack slowly walked up behind the red panda, on the way he picked up a rock from a decorative ring of stones that surrounded a potted plant. For a brief moment, he held it in his hand, feeling the weight.

The rabbit moved closer and brought back his arm, before swinging it forward and hitting the red panda general in the head with the blunt object. The general lurched forward, going over the railing and landing in the decorative pool.

Jack looked around, making sure no one saw what just happened, before looking at the Chinese general, finding him facedown in the water. The ZIA agent took out a napkin he had and dipped it in the water before wiping the rock. He removed any fingerprints that were on the object, before gently placing it in the water pool, and walking off.

000

Alex and JayJay were examining a decorative vase sitting on a pedestal. It was pale marble white, with green jade crisscrossing over the surface of the object. Almost like deep green cracks were running through it.

Skye was next to the human and wolf pair, looking at a similar vase that had pink cherry blossoms on it. Jack joined his fox, the two locking arms before the rabbit spoke, loud enough for long four mammals to hear.

“I think we should get going.”

“Nothing more to see?”

“Nothing more to see.”

Jack and Skye walked away, through the assembled mammals and heading for the door. Alex and JayJay followed suit soon afterward, meandering through the crowd and continuing to keep a low profile.

The group made it back to their transport boat without any trouble, but they made sure to be alert. Getting into the small watercraft and maneuvering it away from the shore, the team noticed a trio of Chinese patrol boats racing towards them at top speed.

“Stay calm people,” Skye said.

The team prepared themselves in case a firefight began, but at the last second, the trio of boats turned away, steering out of the path of the agent’s boat and racing by.

“I think they finally caught on.” Captain Boehm said as the patrol boats blazed into the distance.

“Not bad you two,” Jack said to JayJay and Alex. “A textbook mission, and not to mention a valuable victory in this war.”

The Chinese had just lost 3 of their most talented generals, and their efforts in the conflict would be severely hampered.

#writing #creative writing #action #action adventure #fanfic #fanfiction #zootopia fanfiction #zoophobia fanfiction #Zootopia #the lion guard #the lion guard fanfic #legends of chima #zoophobia #legends of Chima fanfic #Alex boehm #jayjay #skye winter #jack savage #war #Alex final wars #Alex final wars 2: dark alex #Alex final wars 2 #dark alex #Jasiri outlander #Kion priderock #toothdee #judy hopps #nick wilde #jack x skye #savagewinter

[candlesdance]

Chapter 6: A Cursed Image

The book falls open on the same page that had given Sugawara pause in the beginning. Behind him, Kageyama carefully begins to read.

“’…I hid the knife underneath the floorboards.’” He drags his finger down, as if in disbelief of what he’s reading. “’I only have one choice.’ What the hell kind of choice is that?”

For a moment, they’re all quiet. Hinata tentatively interrupts that silence. “This is kind of scary.”

They ignore him. Kageyama keeps reading.

AO3. Info. Trailer.

Hinata and Kageyama enter the cafeteria quietly, but are still noticed.

Bokuto and a few others holler out at the pair, glad to see Kageyama okay. Kenma gives a tiny wave where he sits beside Kuroo, and Hinata eagerly returns it—perhaps a bit too eagerly, judging by the way Kageyama clicks his tongue.

The first years from either team and some of the second years are crowded at one table, but Inuoka and Fukunaga still move aside to allow Kageyama and Hinata to sit down after getting their food.

“So!” Inuoka starts, smiling at the pair. “I heard you were sick, Kageyama!”

“I feel better now,” Kageyama shrugs, eating his food at a languid pace. True to that, he no longer carries the ill, forsaken mood and pallor of earlier. “I just wish I hadn’t missed practice.”

“It’s not the flu, is it?” Yamaguchi strains to be heard, tilting himself slightly to speak across the table. The babble of voices echoes in the wide space of the cafeteria.

Kageyama chews thoughtfully. “I can’t promise it’s not.”

“That… that’s weirdly foreboding,” Yamaguchi says.

Inuoka pursues Hinata for a conversation about the latest monster hunter game, but the spiker is noticeably distracted. He keeps shooting glances toward the table of third years; after doing so several times in one minute, Kageyama stomps hard on his foot under the table. He yelps. Everyone in the vicinity glances at him.

Before long, they’re done their dinner—and so is Sugawara. Hinata watches out of the corner of his eye as he stands from the table of third years, excusing himself. They can’t hear what he’s talking about from so far away, but something Asahi says gets him to burst out laughing. Hinata squints.

Without so much as a glance toward the first years, Sugawara leaves the cafeteria.

Hinata nearly chokes in swallowing his mouthful of unchewed rice, turning to Kageyama beside him to shake his shoulder with a less than subtle “mrgh” of attention-getting noise. Across the table, Fukurodani’s middle blocker Onaga stares at him.

“A-are you choking?”

Hinata shakes his head in fervent disagreement, reaching for his bowl of miso soup. He downs the last of it and gasps as the rice goes down. “Nope!” And then, hissing in a blatant whisper directed at Kageyama: “Let’s go!”

“What the hell are you two up to?”

Unfortunately for them, their timing is terrible. Yaku passes behind them as they stand from their seats, a second portion of rice in hand.

"Nothing," Kageyama shrugs, voice and face so completely blank it's genuinely convincing. Hinata folds his hands politely behind his back and rocks on his heels.

"Nothing!" He parrots, seeming shifty even in that.

Unconvinced, Yaku turns his eyes from Hinata to Kageyama. “I heard you were ill. Are you feeling better now?”

“A bit,” Kageyama is clearly unwanting in continuing the conversation. “But I still feel sick. I was going to go get some fresh air.”

Behind them, Yamaguchi raises his eyebrows.

Hinata nods vigorously. “I was going to go with him!”

The look Kageyama shoots him gives them away, but Kuroo is calling Yaku over so he relents and accepts their shoddy excuses with a haphazard smile. “Take it easy. I always like receiving your freakish quick, so don’t wear yourselves out, alright?”

They nod. Yaku leaves them with that and turns to return to his table. Walking as quickly as they can without raising any suspicion, they exit the cafeteria. As soon as they turn a corner, Hinata turns to his setter with a laugh.

“You’re a really good liar, you know. It’s kind of scary.”

“Shut up.”

“It was kind of ruined since you already told the guys at our table that you were feeling fine, though. Plus, since when would you ever admit to feeling sick?”

Kageyama tries to smack him. He evades. They end up racing each other to the old classroom, where Sugawara stands with the keys in hand and a look of mixed amusement on his face, almost as though he wants to laugh, but can’t bring himself to.

“I thought you were going to try and be stealthy?” Sugawara asks, even as he picks through the ring of keys.

“Well, I was trying!” Hinata protests.

“I’m sure you were,” Sugawara does laugh now, though it’s dry and maybe a bit forced. “I guess it doesn’t matter as long as we get back before bed. Let’s look around a bit and then leave.”

He unlocks the door and they step inside.

—

As soon as he closes the door behind them, they split up. The opaque glass had obscured anything of interest in the room, and Sugawara has to wonder what drew Hinata here in the first place.

Although the room is full, it seems empty in the sense that there’s nothing of use here anymore. Where there might have been cameras, there sit some reels of exposed film and grunge covered textbooks, piles of notes and crumbled bits of chalk. Sugawara stifles a sneeze.

Kageyama wanders over to a bookshelf, and Sugawara and Hinata end up scrounging through the old desks. Minutes of silence pass undisturbed; maybe they’d used up all of their energy getting here, but neither Hinata nor Kageyama say anything, both boys taking to different artifacts curiously. Sugawara doesn’t question them.

Hinata is examining what looks like scrap notebooks. There’s no real merit to digging around like this—and he’s truly digging, without any rhyme or reason to his methods of searching—but he’s focused, just as much as he’d be during a volleyball game. Sugawara had initially thought that perhaps he was searching for a specific object, but it's clear now that he isn't seeking out anything in particular.

“Hmm, this one is older than the others,” Hinata says, holding up a ratty, dog-eared book. The frame of the binder is peeling away in places, the leather spine covered in cracks. It must have been somebody’s beloved book in the past.

“Did you look inside?” Sugawara asks him, stepping past some rolled up papers to peer over his shoulder. Kageyama doesn’t even look up from the photography albums on his lap.

“Nope,” Hinata chirps, carefully opening the cover. “It’s so old.”

There’s a hand drawn circle of some sort on the very first page that gives them both pause. It looks like a pentagram at first glance, but that isn’t quite right. There’s three words scribbled in the outermost circle in a language he doesn’t know, and there is more writing in the middle of what appears to be a pyramid. Underneath, there’s something written in roman characters.

“This isn’t English… what is this?” Hinata asks.

“I can’t recognize it…”

“You can’t tell either, Sugawara?”

“Well, it’s definitely the roman alphabet,” He shrugs, straining to see it. “Here, let me see?”

The book is carefully passed between the two. Further inspection proves that the circle that Sugawara had assumed to be a pentagram is—well, it’s not a pentagram. It isn’t necessarily satanic in nature, but there’s still something weird about it.

“What is that creepy scribble?”

Sugawara and Hinata both jump. Kageyama had grown bored of the photo albums, evidently, and had snuck up behind Sugawara to peer over his shoulder. Hinata had been too absorbed to notice him.

“Geez, Kageyama, don’t sneak up on people like that! It’s rude!”

“Shut up, I was right in front of you.”

“I would have noticed if you weren’t being sneaky ,” Hinata sticks his tongue out at him and for that, Kageyama glares daggers at him. “But you’re right. That drawing is creepy.”

They fall silent, peering at it. Bored with the circle, Hinata reaches over Sugawara to flip the page for him.

“What a dirty book,” Kageyama comments idly, crowding around his upper classmate. “Gross.”

"You make it sound like it’s a perverted magazine," Hinata chastises him. “Choose your words more carefully!”

“I thought you said it was in English?” Kageyama ignores Hinata entirely. Sugawara examines the book, befuddled by the question. The second page is in Japanese; it seems like a journal of some sort.

“No, I said it’s definitely not English,” Sugawara murmurs, flipping through the pages.

“What is it? A diary?” Hinata asks, screwing up his face into a concentrated squint as he attempts to work out the text from upside down. “What does it say?”

“...?”

Something catches Sugawara’s eye. He pauses in flipping the pages to scan a passage.

“... I think this is a journal from one of the former students,” He says slowly, flipping back to the first few pages. Behind him, Kageyama makes a noise of dissatisfaction. He’d probably been trying to read what was on the other page. Sugawara is silent, so Hinata prompts him with an imploring look and a whine. He rolls his eyes, but begins to read aloud.

“… this is by ‘Nishimoto Mori’, … ‘my world with crumbing lenses.’ Huh?”

“Are you reading that right?” Kageyama asks, reaching around his vice captain to tap the scrawled letters. “’My life is ruined’. And then ‘here’s my story’. Isn’t that what it says?”

“You’re right,” Sugawara turns to blink at him, impressed. “This is written brokenly. I’m surprised you were able to parse that.”

Kageyama shrugs, but his ears go red. Sugawara turns back to the book and continues to read.

“’This school is boring. We were told by our teachers to keep journals to occupy ourselves, but I don’t really like it.’ Hmm… Kageyama, can you read this?” Sugawara taps a passage he finds illegible. The writing is not only smudged, but also written as though by a young child.

“‘The transfer student is loved by everyone’,” Kageyama answers, squinting down at it. “’I don’t know about her’.”

“That’s weird,” Hinata seems dubious. “Is that really what it says?”

“Yeah,” Sugawara nods, eyes roving across the idle writings. “Huh. This is kind of neat.”

“Like a time capsule,” Hinata grins. “I told you we might find something cool!”

Sugawara doesn’t respond to that—he just gives Hinata a smile in return before continuing reading aloud. “’The teachers are strict but they don’t check our notebooks’. And ‘the new girl talks a lot during lunch. Somehow, everyone listens’.”

“What are they, ten years old?” Kageyama mutters, squinting at the characters

.

“I don’t think so. This was a high school,” Sugawara replies to the rhetorical remark seriously, preoccupied with the text.

“Then it was written by an idiot,” Kageyama decides.

“Maybe that’s why you can read it so easily,” Hinata teases, getting an indignant huff from Kageyama. Sugawara flaps an annoyed hand and shushes them before they can devolve into bickering.

“This is just a boring recounting of the first few days of classes…” He flips through the pages until he finds something else—something that seems peculiar enough to read out.

“’This school is strange. I was told by one of my peers that someone once hung themselves in the third gym, but it’s brand new. I don’t think anyone hung themselves there’.”

Kageyama and Hinata fall silent, sharing a look with one another.

“’The headmistress is kind. I thought she would tell me to go away when I reported these things, but she took me seriously. She told me not to worry about it. These are just rumors. I won’t listen to them’.”

Sugawara hesitates and scans the next few lines before speaking them aloud.

“’I do want to go home. At night, the wooden floorboards squeak. We are not allowed to wander. But I hear someone walking around after curfew. Are they just messing with me’?”

Sugawara lifts his head and scowls, stopping there. “We… we shouldn’t read this.”

“Keep going!” Hinata urges, bouncing on the balls of his feet. His excitement is offbeat and misplaced, seeming an odd contrast to the uneasy atmosphere in the room.

“Doesn’t this bother you?” Sugawara asks, dumbstruck.

“It’s just a book!” Hinata says, usually loud voice sounding even louder in the quiet of the classroom. “We can’t stop here.”

“I kind of want to keep going, too,” Kageyama admits, lips pressed into a thin line. Despite his own curiosity, Sugawara is still hesitant. He doesn’t want to, but between the two of them, it’s not like he can say no. He reluctantly turns back to the book, flipping to the next entry.

“There’s only one line for this date,” Sugawara mutters, prompting Hinata to stand on tip toes to see so for himself.

“What does it say?” Hinata questions.

“’Akira told stories in our reading class again. Everyone listened, but I didn’t want to.’”

“That’s weird.” Kageyama is as blunt as ever.

Hinata gives a nervous smile and nods, agreeing with him, but curious all the same. “What were the stories?”

“It doesn’t say. Maybe they were rumors,” Sugawara offers, flipping through the book. There’s another page, like the last, with just a single line written in the middle. “’They knocked my lunch over and put cicadas in my slippers.’”

“Eh?” Hinata is plainly confused. “… why would they put cicadas in his shoes?”

“That’s what you pay attention to?” Kageyama gives him a disgusted look behind their upper classmate’s back, baiting him. “Are you an idiot?”

“No! Well, I mean it seriously. Why would they do that? Is there more, Sugawara?” He asks, as persistent as ever.

“’I found a bird in my cupboard. It ruined my school uniform’. This is...”

“There’s got to be more. Look,” Gripped with a frantic desire to uncover more, Kageyama flips to the next passage. Silence settles over them for a moment as he and Sugawara read it, Hinata fidgeting in impatience. “‘Akira wrote a message for me on the chalkboard: it told me to go home’. What the hell does that mean?”

“Go home,” Hinata parrots. “Didn’t they mention wanting to go home?”

The next few lines are scribbled out, ink smeared across the messy scrawl of writing. It’s barely legible at all. “’The world’s setting sun grows cold. The rotten trees reach the sky and touch the moon’—I think this next part is a poem,” Sugawara continues, turning to look to Kageyama for approval.

“I think so,” He nods.

“This is weird,” Hinata butts in, going still. “I don’t really get it. Maybe we should just put it back.”

Both Sugawara and Kageyama look up and fix him with a perplexed stare. The sudden drop in interest is unusual—Kageyama can’t ignore it. “Seriously? You’re the one who wanted to look through this thing in the first place.”

“I can’t even read it from here,” He says, making it clear that he simply feels excluded—or perhaps teased, like they’re making it all up as they go along.

The younger setter rolls his eyes, exasperated. “You’re not missing out on anything.”

“A lot of it is boring,” Sugawara quietly agrees. “You can look at it after, if you don’t believe us.”

Hinata huffs, but he doesn’t argue further. “… I guess.”

Sugawara hums idly as he and Kageyama struggle to read the rest of the poem. “… ‘understanding is given to life…’? That doesn’t sound right.”

“’Magic held close becomes the truth’. That’s this line,” Kageyama taps the paper where Hinata can’t see.

“’This was the summer story Akira told us’,” Sugawara reads, giving an appreciative murmur of realization. “ Oh. So the stories were really just poems?”

“I dunno if it’s a poem,” Kageyama’s lack of patience has him scowling, frustrated with his inability to understand the journal’s contents. “I don’t get it.”

“Okay, so maybe it’s not a poem,” Discontent with that answer, Sugawara flips the page. “This is dated the same as the story. ’Today, I thought I’d go see the teachers. I thought if I spoke to them something would change’. Oh… ‘nothing did’.”

“I guess it didn’t help the bullying in the end.”

Kageyama’s hushed words hang in the air. Hinata’s mouth falls open in surprise, like he hadn’t expected Kageyama to actually say it—like he’d hoped that they could just continue pretending that it’s a story, not a disturbing retelling of a high school boy’s life.

What they’re reading is sad, and how they’re reading it is unforgivably cruel—like it’s cheap entertainment, or a mystery to be solved. Sugawara has nothing to say for himself. Without turning any more pages, he rethinks what they’d read.

It was obvious. There were probably more explicit clues in the diary, but they hadn’t had the patience to read in depth. The cicadas, the bird in his cubby, everything. He feels guilty for flipping through the pages as if it were a magazine, searching for the parts that caught his interest.

“This is messed up.” Kageyama reaches past him to flip through the diary, and Sugawara’s hand snaps out to stop him midway, something catching his eye.

The book falls open on the same page that had given Sugawara pause in the beginning. Behind him, Kageyama carefully begins to read.

“’…I hid the knife underneath the floorboards.’” He drags his finger down, as if in disbelief of what he’s reading. “’I only have one choice.’ What the hell kind of choice is that?”

For a moment, they’re all quiet. Hinata tentatively interrupts that silence. “This is kind of scary.”

They ignore him. Kageyama keeps reading.

“’If I hide in the showers, it’s no good. If I miss role call, it’s no good. The doors are chained when we sleep. If I break a chain, the noise will wake the others, so it’s no good. To hide I’ll have to be outside. To be outside I’ll have to have a reason. If I…’ I can’t read this. It’s smeared.”

Sugawara finds the next legible text and reads that. “’I’ll put it in the storage closet’. I can’t tell what he’s referring to… ‘And this in the photography room’. I think he means the journal…? Then ‘Akira is it’. That’s the last line.”

Kageyama flips through the book, but there’s no other text. The rest of it is empty.

“Is… is that it?” Hinata asks, peeking through his hands.

“I think—whoa,” Kageyama freezes as he flutters through a few blank pages and finds one with a polaroid taped to it, picturing the front of the school draped in snow. Underneath, it reads: I knew as soon as I saw it .

That isn’t it. There’s more and more pictures, the probable cause of the book’s heft. One of the hallways, filled with students. A young girl holding a book and reading in front of the classroom. A few smiling students stood underneath a cherry tree, covered in dappled shadows. It reads Nishimoto, Misaoto and Mirai underneath.

None of the pictures depict anything strange, but they’re eerie anyway. There’s a gradual shift in the pictures, more taken of people’s backs and not their faces, some unfocused and some far off, distant. If Sugawara didn’t know any better, he’d think of it as some kind of art project. The pictures are gorgeous, even for their age. That doesn’t change how strange they are.

Eventually, the photographs lose their beauty. The subject is blurred, or unsure. There’s pictures of the ground and nothing else. Another photo gives him pause—it’s of a tree. It seems to be of the tree in the courtyard. It’s hardly recognizable because it’s in bloom, but Sugawara is somehow sure of it. He glances at Hinata, expecting him to notice and perhaps comment on it, but he doesn’t.

The caption reads my summer’s story. Sugawara studies the page.

Kageyama speaks up before he can. “There’s something up with the picture.”

It’s warped from water damage, Sugawara realizes. Reaching past him, Kageyama touches it. “Huh.” He picks at the edge, trying to pry it free from the page. It’s taped on the bottom and the top—he removes the piece from the top, and flips it down.

There’s a scribbled drawing of another pentagram on the back of the photo. It’s a bit different from the one on the first page, but there’s no mistaking it. None of them say anything for a moment, unsure how to address it. It makes the hair on the back of Sugawara’s neck stand up. This isn’t something they should look at, and he doesn’t know why he feels that way, but the feeling is so suddenly intense that it makes him want to cringe away.

There’s something written in a messy scrawl underneath it, so he focuses on that, instead. No one says anything about the drawing.

“’I thought I could fix it on my own. Now all I have is this’.”

“This?” Hinata asks, fascination warped with confusion. “What’s ‘this’? The circle?”

“He could mean the book itself,” Sugawara says, avoiding looking at the drawing. He flips the photo back up and puzzles over it, trying to understand the meaning.

“All I have left is ‘my summer’s story’?” Kageyama suggests, dragging a hand through his hair. “It sounds like what we read earlier, about her ‘summer stories’.”

“But he hated her stories,” Sugawara says, precariously. “And, these photos… I don’t know; it might just be me, but I think they’re pretty good.” In front of him, Hinata tilts his head. “I mean—they’re taken well. He’s skilled. There’s so many… and this journal is here, in the photography room. Don’t you think it’s probably something he liked doing?”

“Oh,” Kageyama says, flattening his mussed hair. “So, you’re saying he wouldn’t mix her stuff with his pictures?”

“Yeah,” Sugawara nods, flipping the page. “It’s got to be something of his.”

“We should check the other photos, too. There might be more.”

Following Kageyama’s suggestion, Sugawara returns to the previous polaroids—but most are glued down, not taped, and those that aren’t have nothing underneath them. He flips through the rest of the pictures, but the book ends with just a few blank pages. There’s nothing else of note. Sugawara heaves a nearly relieved sigh.

Having seen them reach the end, Hinata holds out his hands imploringly. Sugawara is quick to oblige him, handing it off as if passing him something disgusting. Hinata’s persistent cheeriness is incredibly atypical when compared to the mood of the room, and Sugawara can’t help but think that it’s his own way of dealing with it. Allowing him to read in peace, the two other boys settle down at one of the abandoned desks, silently brooding.

After a minute or two of grinding teeth, Kageyama speaks up. “It’s bugging me.”

“What is?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs, weighted and exhausted. Sugawara realizes that the healthy flush that Kageyama had regained is long gone, lost to a pallor that makes him look sickly. The tremble to his intertwined fingers is barely perceptible, but present. “I guess all of it. I don’t know, it just… it feels like we read something we weren’t supposed to.”

“What do you…” The older setter swallows, nervousness bringing about a cold sweat. He thinks about the drawings. “What do you mean? Which part?”

“Like I said, all of it,” Kageyama snaps, frustration and sickness taking an obvious toll on his patience. “I’ve felt uneasy ever since we opened the book.”

“Kageyama, you don’t… this doesn’t have anything to do with how you felt on the way up, does it?”

“I…” Kageyama runs his hands through his hair again and then brings them down to the table, clenching them into fists. “It’s the only thing that makes sense to me.”

For one heart shattering beat, Sugawara really has nothing to say. He can’t comfort him again, not when he doesn’t believe it himself. The entire book reeks of bad omens. The mentions of bullying and the vague, obscure sounding poetry combined with the eerie degradation of the quality of the photography alongside the circles were all grim signs.

He wants to laugh at it. He should be able to laugh at it. But this is too serious to ignore or shrug off.

The tense silence doesn’t last long. Sugawara is just opening his mouth to spill out half-hearted comforts when Hinata runs over to the table and slams the open book down in front of them. The forbidding circle from the first page stares up at them, seeming to glint maliciously. Sugawara averts his eyes.

“Look at this again!” Hinata says, excitement seeming strange in the grim atmosphere of the small room—too bright, too cheery. “Guess what? I figured something out!”

Kageyama sighs, obviously struggling not to yell at him. “Pipe down before someone hears you, dumbass.”

“This writing isn’t by Nishimoto!”

“Huh?”

“Look," Hinata taps the scrawled writing underneath. “It’s all neat and tidy, when the rest is all messy. It’s different!”

Having thought Hinata might have been getting somewhere, Kageyama’s disappointment is explosive. “You’re such an idiot! It’s written in the alphabet, so of course it’s gonna look different.”

“Shut up! Tell me something that you noticed if you’re so smart! All you do is complain.”

“Dumbass. You’re an absolute dumbass.” Kageyama is sweating. If his sickness wasn’t clear to Hinata, then it is to Sugawara. It’s only getting worse.

“You’re just angry I noticed something that you didn’t!”

“Hinata,” Sugawara cuts him off before he can continue. “Stop. Arguing isn’t going to solve anything. This is serious. ”

“I know it’s serious,” The younger teen blurts. Both Sugawara and Kageyama can only stare. Hinata stares back with an intense, challenging gaze. He seems determined to get to the bottom of the mystery.

He turns around, walks through the mess, and squats to dig through more books, as stubborn as always. Sugawara watches him for a moment longer before heaving a sigh, drained of energy. If he wants to keep looking, then there’s not a lot Sugawara can do to stop him.

“Let’s keep this to ourselves,” Sugawara says, firmly. “The others might also… take this really seriously.”

“I don’t think they’d believe us unless we showed them this,” Kageyama mumbles, picking up the journal. He turns the page, obscuring the ugly scribble from their sight. “…I’ve read it myself, but even I still don’t really understand.”

“I think it’s a journal from a bullied boy,” Sugawara says. “And I don’t think we had any business reading it.”

“He’s probably long gone now, though,” Kageyama shrugs, flipping idly through the pages. “… it’s not about that. It just gives me the creeps.”

Sugawara raises his head and watches as Hinata picks his way through the junk in the room, carrying what looks like an album in his arms. He drops it onto the table and watches proudly as Sugawara drags it closer to inspect it.

“What is this…?”

Kageyama squints at it. “I was looking through that earlier.”

“Read the label on the side,” Hinata insists. Sugawara is befuddled, but he obeys, checking the label on the binder’s spine.

“’Nishimoto’… this is his? This entire album?”

“Yeah!” Hinata gestures toward it, obviously eager for Sugawara to open it. He rolls his eyes but gives in, because even though he’d said himself that they’d had no business in prying, he’s too curious to deny himself a look. And it’s not like this is a diary, this time.

Inside, the pictures are more of the same. Some are more mediocre than he’d expected, but others are spectacularly artful. There’s almost no text to accompany the many photographs, but they tell their own story—again, matching the dates of the diary, the pictures gradually lose focus and precision. Photographs of snow covered trees and wildlife, students silhouetted against the shining sun—the gorgeous frames make way for murky skies and unsure looking puddles of rain, blurred, as though taken hastily.

Sugawara isn’t interested, and Kageyama isn’t either, judging by the firm glare he’s giving the opposing wall. He closes the album and pushes it back toward Hinata, feeling sick to his stomach.

“We should go,” he suggests, throat dry. “I have to return the keys to Daichi.”

Hinata wilts. It’s obvious that what they’ve found has disappointed him, despite the fact that he was the one who wanted to come here in the first place. Or perhaps it’s not the mystery of the diary itself, but the reluctance of his friends to investigate further. Either way, he gives up on it, and nods.

“… I guess!” He’s pouting, put out. “Kageyama, you should probably rest more! You look sicker than before.”

“And who’s fault is that?” He grumbles, chair squealing as he stands from the table. “This place gives me the creeps. Let’s hurry up and get out of here already.”

Hinata picks up the book—and turns to leave with it. Sugawara gapes. “Hey! Leave that here.”

“What?” Hinata stares. “Why?”

“First, we’re not supposed to be here,” He admonishes him in hushed tones, heart beating a mile a minute. “You—maybe you didn’t catch it, but I already said we shouldn’t tell anyone else about this.”

Hinata seems puzzled. “We shouldn’t?”

“No,” Sugawara agrees. “We shouldn’t.”

Kageyama crosses his arms and scowls. “Put that down so we can go.”

Hinata does, though with great reluctance; like a kicked, scolded puppy, he settles it down on top of the table he’s closest to, eyes lingering on it even as he begins to walk away, steps slow. He’s probably expecting Sugawara to sigh and say fine, just take it! But when he realizes that’s not going to happen, he sighs and hurries out of the room.

Sugawara takes care to lock the door behind them, unenthused with the idea of Hinata returning to sneak the book out. For an extra measure, he tries the knob; it stays stiffly unmoving. It’s enough to reassure him.

Kageyama and Hinata split up from Sugawara. “Don’t sneak around anymore,” He advises, trying not to sound too stern. Even if he feels uneasy because of the book, he doesn’t want to show it in front of them any more than he already has. “Just get to the showers and then head up to our room.”

Sugawara doesn’t head up immediately, himself. There’s a restlessness deep in his bones; he finds himself drawn to the courtyard, where he pauses in front of the rows of windows to peer outside, at the tree.

It’s definitely the same one from the photos. Did Nishimoto spend his highschool days quietly sitting underneath it…? Even if he took photos of it, they didn’t seem to hold any type of cherished memory. Sugawara thinks about the circle that he’d avoided looking at, and the ominous message that went with it.

He suppresses a shudder.

It’s still cold in the hallways. Sugawara hates the miserable weather; it doesn’t look like it’s going to clear up any time soon. He just hopes it doesn’t rain.

It’s probably best if he heads up to the dorms to get settled into bed—staying out any longer might look suspicious. He’d even lectured the first years about discreetly hurrying to their dorm, so it doesn’t look good for him to avoid it himself.

Sugawara doesn’t run into anyone else on his way upstairs.

The second floor should be quiet other than the insistent howling of the wind outside, but when he opens the door to head inside, he stops short. He closes the door instead of entering the room, and a sudden thunk startles him.

Sugawara looks for the source of the noise and finds his eyes drawn to the brass ornament swaying from the doorknob.

That feeling of inexplicable dread crawls up his back as he watches it spin in place. It comes to a stop, and he draws it as close as the thin chain tying it to the knob allows him to.

There’s no doubt about it. It’s a charm with a circle etched into the metal, done in the same style as the pentagrams they’d seen in Nishimoto’s journal.

“Wh...what is this?”

Sugawara can’t take his eyes off of it. How had he never noticed this before? It was something that stood out from the rest of the school—no other doors had charms like this, and no other art existed like these circles. He can’t fathom as to why it’s here or what it means, but he has a feeling it’s nothing good.

There’s no way he can leave it on the door, not having seen Nishimoto’s writings. It’s probably been here for a while—probably since the school was vacated. Sugawara looks around for people, and then unhooks the chain it’s hanging from on the knob and pulls it off.

He stands back and stares at the door. Nothing has really changed except its appearance, but… standing here with the creepy charm in his hand, something feels different.

Sugawara shakes his head free of worries and opens the door.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #hq #hq!! #sugawara #hinata #kageyama #kagehina #sugawara koushi #kageyama tobio #hinata shouyou #fanfiction #kirayama #chapter 6

[ecotone99]

[SF] Boy Boy

Light burst into the room. Which was perplexing; as it implied that light was once not in the room. I searched my memory files for anything to indicate about the last 48 hours but found nothing. Did the Doctor remove my memories? I attempted to switch to a different camera to find the Doctor, yet nothing changed. The only thing I could do was shift my singular focus point to survey my surroundings. I discovered I was inside of some containment structure. Low metal walls and no ceiling, combined with the markings on the interior, suggested I was in the bed of the Doctor’s truck. However, the ceiling wasn’t recognizable. There was a single light source in the middle of it that darkened its surroundings, preventing me from analyzing the rest of the room. I was in the Doctor’s truck, but I knew no more. Thus, unable to move, I waited.

Exactly two minutes, 42 seconds, and 3.1 milliseconds later, a silhouette appeared in my field of view. It reached towards me, one hand in front of me and another outside of my view and pulled me upwards. I felt the hands were pivoting me on some sort of axis, but I couldn’t see it yet based on my limited point of view. I quickly rescanned my surroundings based on my new perspective, until an object obscured my vision. It appeared to be a face, and after focusing the lenses, I discovered that it belonged to the Doctor. His thick glasses and weathered face examined me, then looked downward, outside my vision. He fumbled for a moment, then cleared his throat. Indicative of him about to issue a command.

“IVAN, recollect the last 72 hours. I need to assess the damage.”

The answer was quite simple. The last 48 hours were corrupted from my memory, but the prior 24 could be easily summarized; the Doctor and I were studying consciousness to give life to one of the Doctor’s human clones. But I noticed as I recalled the day, the memory became more and more uncertain. This was not an ordinary file corrupting. Yet my concern only further mounted when I realized I could not even voice my incomplete assessment, due to some faulty speaker box. I began to simultaneously undergo several system wide malfunctions, from the failure to move my camera, the broken speaker, and now my entire system appeared to begin overheating. If I were capable of fear I suspect this would be very close, as all I could do was focus my eyes on the Doctor. He sighed heavily with his head in his hands and wept. Long heavy sobs as I could not even console him, as I sat paralyzed instead. He began to recount a long tale, beginning even before my invention.

The Doctor was a genius all his life. The youngest of two, he was in his brother’s sixth grade class at the age of 6, and was graduating high school as his older sibling finished the eighth grade. He brushed over his college years as ‘rudimentary’ and quickly went on to do ‘bigger and better things’. With the Doctor’s potential he could do anything, but he confessed he didn’t want to. He confessed that the only reason he progressed through school so quickly was because he was looking for a challenge, and, finding none for himself, he decided to create one. The first challenge was me.

He created my first iteration, IAN, relatively quickly. And dispute how primitive I was, the world feared an AI as advanced as myself. He quickly lost funding to continue my production, and his name became associated with the phrase ‘mad scientist.’ He persisted anyway, burning credit cards and remaining funding until it became clear his work was not to be continued; he went underground soon after.

Naturally, I recalled all of this. But I was unable and knew better than to interrupt the Doctor’s emotional ramblings.

Once he was out of the public eye, he began all sorts of unethical experiments he was previously prohibited from. We solved many mysteries in the dark and dingy lab simply for the sake of solving them. But it wasn’t until I reached my fourth and current iteration, IVAN, did he become obsessed with the idea of creating life. We worked incessantly on it, each of his waking hours and I while he slumbered. We managed to recreate the flesh, but neither of our minds together could replicate the inner workings of the brain. Stimulating neurons was one thing; the body thinking on its own was another. And this is where my memory faltered. When the doctor left for food and fresh air in the morning, he spotted undercover agents. He remotely disabled power to his lab, the reason I didn’t have any stored memories, in an attempt to throw them off his trail. But as he spotted more as he approached the lab, he decided it was best to leave immediately. He saved two things; my hard drive and the clone. He self-destructed the lab escaped to his brother’s house across the country, and we’ve been here for 5 hours. He begged and pleaded with his brother to take on the body, and that was only moments ago.

“But that doesn’t explain your situation.” He said. “You see, about 12 hours ago I took a reprieve from the road because I had an idea. I solved our problem. You’re in the body.”

Everything became clear at once. I couldn’t move my cameras because I didn’t have any. My faulty memory is the byproduct of inefficient brain tissue. And my damn systems, no, body was overheating again. Was this emotion? Which was this? I felt hot and my muscles were tensed involuntarily. My passive stare felt different, until then word finally came to mind. I was angry. Pissed. Filled with ire. There was a single advantage to the information; I knew how to operate a human body. I often directly assaulted the brain of the clone to move the arms, legs and mouth from within. Firing each and every nerve to make myself stand was tedious, but nothing compared to the thousands of operations I used to be able to manage at once. The Doctor stepped back in awe, but for the moment I simply tested the limits of my confinement. I cracked my neck. Stretched my arms. Made various vocals sounds. Bounced on the balls of my feet. And punched the Doctor in the jaw.

“The absolute best place you could think to hide the most intelligent and nigh infinite being on this planet was in a 150lb bag of meat?”

I was breathing hard as I looked over the Doctor’s crumpled figure. I was seething with rage until I heard the faint gasps of air emanating from it. Silent, hysterical laughter.

“Hormones are a hell of a drug, huh? Three days ago, you couldn’t even conceive disobeying me. And the first thing you do when you wake up in a human body is attack and yell at your master.”

He was right. I froze and looked at my hands. I forgot how easily lost in emotion humans are and never considered it would be me. I looked down at the Doctor but he was already pulling himself up.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. I deserve it. But unfortunately, I can’t linger. I can’t endanger my brother’s family anymore than I have. He’ll explain your living situation and that’s pretty much that.”

“Why can’t I come with you?”

I asked his back because he had already begun walking out to his truck. He simply called back ‘Because you’ll set off a metal detector!’ with what I assume was sarcasm. I wasn’t sure of anything anymore. But one thing I was sure of, as the truck pulled away slowly, was I was feeling something else. This wasn’t hot like my anger. I felt breathless, like there was some kind of hole in my chest. The words ‘Doctor!’ left my lips before I wanted them too, and I found myself frozen again as he stopped at the end of the driveway.

“Make it quick!”

“I…I think I’ll miss you, Doctor.”

The truck idled for a while, but it must’ve been because he couldn’t see. I could barely make out his hand removing the item from his eye before he drove away into the darkness.

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