Author Topic: Valentine's Day 18 Contest - Best HS Waifu/OTP  (Read 4610 times)

Offline Revontulet

Re: Valentine's Day 18 Contest - Best HS Waifu/OTP
« Reply #15 on: February 15, 2018, 09:46:22 pm »
Greetings on this mafia murder day.

You can find my entry(ies) in the vortex section. Just make a compilation of all my deaths.

wut? @[email protected];;
Deeox2 [Feb 14, 2018, 08:33:51 pm]:   I KNOW WHAT SEX IS
Milten [Sep 13, 2016, 03:31:18 pm]:   Come on, Rev's soul is 99% lewd, 1% Kurumi
Deeox2 [Dec 16, 2016, 01:31:10 am]:   ... Wow, I think Jannti broke my world solely by existing, lol.
https://youtu.be/USTCUPm5WB0

Offline Pal

Re: Valentine's Day 18 Contest - Best HS Waifu/OTP
« Reply #16 on: February 17, 2018, 06:35:35 am »
Sarcasm + cynicism = pal.

Heinrike [Nov 10, 2016, 11:00:11 am]: I'm bored too, but otherwise bored  Elvis Strunk [Dec 14, 2015, 01:43:59 AM]: Would make it easier to keep track of all the characters, at least. "They're all dead."
Eonymia [Dec 15, 2016, 10:14:17 pm]: Losers don't win, do drugs Arraxis [Feb 18, 2017, 03:12:47 am]: Slither me timbers

Offline Geocorn

Re: Valentine's Day 18 Contest - Best HS Waifu/OTP
« Reply #17 on: February 17, 2018, 08:30:48 am »
I think his confusion was what it had to do with waifus lol

Offline Meliran

Re: Valentine's Day 18 Contest - Best HS Waifu/OTP
« Reply #18 on: February 17, 2018, 10:58:55 pm »
So, this was originally going to be just a gift, but yeah... to submission it goes. If I'm only allowed one submission, ignore this for the one I'll post later this week~

Quick lewd story for you perverts~

Andromeda and her Evening Alone
I collapse in my bed, the stress of the day carried heavily on my shoulders. From hosting a tea party to cleaning dishes to combat training, everything I did carried an air of exhaustion and effort. Not to mention, everything I did I had to turn into a competition. Who can wash the most dishes, who can pour the cleanest cup of tea, who can curtsey the lowest…

All of these activities are tough, but it’s important to have fun while doing it. That way, not only do we manage to make our masters happy – should we ever have real masters instead of defending Akkierens – but we’ll also improve our physique for the future.

Now that the day’s over, though, it’s time to relax. I managed to end my day a little early, so nobody should be coming in here for a while. Which means it is time for Andromeda to have a little fun~

I open up my drawer and pull out the book I reserve for just these sorts of occasions. “His Lips,” the title reads, gold lettering against the brown background. Just in case some steam comes out, I always hold it far away. But no, “steamy romance” is just a saying, it’s not actually going to steam.

“Chapter 3,” I read to myself. Somehow, hearing the words from my lips make everything better. “His bare body caresses over my breasts, every bit of his sweat dripping on my skin. His soft breath panting in my ear. ‘Andrea~’ he whispers. ‘You are so beautiful.’”

Wow, this is getting hot fast. My fingers trace up my body all on their own, finding my own bosom. There’s plenty to grab down here, but it’s not like I have the largest of assets either. I rest in a happy middle – small enough to avoid back pain, yet large enough to enjoy myself when the need calls out to me.

I squeeze my mounds, enjoying every square centimeter of flesh I can find. Through my uniform, it’s maybe not entirely as pleasurable as it could be, but it’s still just a tease. I’m not trying for a quick climax – I want to enjoy this every second I can.

My hands press tighter against my body, enjoying the pleasures of my sensitive flesh. I take it a soft breath, audible to anyone possibly in the room. At least these walls are pretty soundproof.

The next page is even steamier. “He moves with his tongue, licking where he may. Every part of my body is on fire, waiting for his next move.”

Forget her being on fire – my body is heating up rapidly. Simply touching my breasts through my uniform isn’t doing it anymore. No, I need something more – a lot more. I need direct contact!

Taking off my uniform, and putting it back on, has always been a little bit of a competition for me. Fifteen seconds – a full two off my record. And what’s even worse is how much my drive has come down from that little interlude. I’m still plenty hot, but at the same time – I’m a little cold. One look outside at the falling snow could explain why to me.

My hands grip back over my bra, seeing for more pleasure. The pink lace brushes against my skin with every grab, tickling against my nipples.

“Oh, yes,” I moan, each touch of my rock hard nipples sending a tremor through my body. “That feels so good.”

One hand isn’t enough. I drop the book on the floor and put my other hand on my other breast. Through the fabric, I massage the mounds and gasp as each whirlwind of pleasure travels in two directions – up to my brain, and down to my crotch.

My thighs tighten and release all on their own, feeling the joys of my body. With one slip of my hand, my bra comes off, leaving my top exposed to the world. I don’t really care anymore, I need more.

The soft flesh feels so smooth in my hands, melding and molding with my squeezes, and then pushing back against me to return to their normal form. I can push them together and they bounce back outwards. I can spread them and they crash back together. But for the most part, I just press them down and rub them in circles, making sure to keep my red diamond nipples in constant contact with my hands.

“Oh yes, yes, yes,” I moan, pushing them even harder toward my body.

But only one hand is in action right now. My other hand crawls down my stomach like some sort of spider, seeking greener pastures.

My panties last all of two seconds. Fully naked, I trace my fingers around my hips, feeling each curve of my body. My thighs, my hips – every part of my body feels so good right now. But they want more than that – they want the sweet spot.

My fingers move inwards, finally making contact with my soft lips. They’re all ready, with my juices already dripping out onto them. It’s always such a messy business to play with myself, but it’s only going to get messier.

No beating around the bush anymore (which I don’t have to begin with – having opted to keep myself smooth where it counts). My fingers pull back my hood and find the sweet spot – the place I’ve come to know quite well over the past few years.

“Oh god!” My hips buck the instant I touch the spot. Wow, this is feeling even better than normal. I’m so sensitive down there right now – to the point where I almost don’t want to touch there again. But no, I need more – a lot more. I take my index finger and place it firmly on that spot again, gasping in for air. And then I rub it up and down.

Every part of my body is so hot right now, feeling the pleasure of my clit running up my spine. Yes, this is what life is all about. My fingers aren’t even moving on their own anymore, slipping up and down my spot with increasing intensity and speed.

My smell wafts through the air. It’s a rather musty sort of smell, but one whiff of it is enough to turn me on – which makes me do it more and generates more of the smell in an ongoing cycle.

I breathe it in, letting the sensations creep up my nostrils and up to my brain. It feels so good.

My body is reaction already. From head to toe, all my sweat glands activate, pouring off my skin. I take deep breaths, unable to get in enough air anymore. I’m close – so close. Just a little bit more and…

I rip my hand off. My other hand squeezes like a claw on my breast, but that’s nowhere near enough to push me over. What was once a good feeling is now naught but a little tingle.

I take a few deep breaths. That’s right, Andromeda, you can’t go for the gold yet. Edging makes everything better.

My fingers creep along my thighs, slicking along the juices which spilled over. My body is so ready – it wants it badly. They ignore my clit altogether, and instead one of them slips inside.

“Ooh,” I moan. My walls push against my finger as if trying to force it out. But I’m not going to let them do anything of the sort. I push my finger in against their will, making ever part of it feel good as they clamp down on it. Yes, that’s right, this is what’s supposed to happen. And then I push in a second.

I can’t help myself from moaning. My fingers aren’t silent anymore even. Each push they make creates a sloshing noise of my juices mixing up. They are totally drenched, but I’m all right with that. Let them feel my body, let them get wet. It’s all I really need.

My fingers slip in even deeper, pushing for realms never yet explored. I cry out, unable to contain myself anymore. My free hand digs its nails into my breasts, anything to keep myself from going mad.

It’s impossible. I scream like a maniac, muscles clenching all over my body. In and out, in and out, the process repeats itself. I curl my fingers inside, trying to stretch myself to my limits – to find pleasure unlike any I’ve ever found before.

“Yes, yes, yes!” I cry out. “Right there, that’s the spot!”

A bag drops. I tear my eyes open, and there at the door is a maid with long blue hair curling down to her feet. Maho?! What is she doing here?

There’s no way I can stop. I pretend I didn’t see her and slip my fingers in more and more, letting the pressure build. Somehow, seeing Maho has made this feel even better. It’s like, I want her to see how dirty of an ojou I can be. Let her see the true Andromeda!

Everything explodes, my juices spilling out on my bed, the floor, the mirror – anything within reach. My body collapses, unable to bear the pressure anymore.

Maho turns her head aside. “I-I’m sorry. I probably should have knocked. But, um, you left your hairband at the training field.”

She moves to toss it to me. But I’m not going to let it end like this.

“Maho, come here.”

Her hand shakes. “Well, I mean, every girl has her private time, so if you want me to leave you alone I’ll just—”

“I said, come here.”

My personality is doing a 180. Yes, this is what I really want. I don’t want to be the shy competitor. I want to be something more.

She can’t disobey my order, and tiptoes toward me. Soon as she’s close enough, I leap out of my bed and tackle her to the floor.

“A-Andro? Wh-What do you think you are doing?” she gasps.

Her maid uniform is so much easier to undo than mine, as I tear off the buttons and expose her bra. “I think it’s high time you learn what pleasure is, don’t you think?”

She gasps. “B-But, something like that is so lewd and…”

I kneel over her body, undoing her bra. She wants it – she really does. She’s making no move to resist. “And you’re a lewd girl. I mean, look at how hard your nipples are already.”

I lean down close to her. She is beet red. “A-Andro…”

I place a hand on her bare stomach. “Tell me, Maho, do you want me to teach you? Do you want me to dominate every part of your body and send you to heaven?”

She looks aside. With a deep sigh, she says “… yes.”

That’s all I need. I force my lips on hers. She smells of cherry blossoms and roses – the perfect combination for a Maid of her caliber. She needs a waft of peony or tulip to make the perfect combination, I’d guess.

Her body is so soft – every centimeter of skin pristine and flawless. Seeing her in this sort of state, afraid and yet willing at the same time, is too much to handle. She’s going to make me go insane! My body can’t control itself, stripping her out of the last garments which separate her from the animals. But that’s all right – we’re going to be like animals.

She shakes. “U-Um, Andro, I’m not sure if I’m all right with this.”

I lean close to her ear. “Then say ‘pineapple.’ I won’t do anything you don’t want, but you have to tell me, all right?”

She nods.

That’s all I need. I get up off her and shove my hips in her face. “Lick it.”

She shakes. “B-But Andro… This is too dirty!”

I smile. She’s really getting into the submissive role, isn’t she? “Then taste just how dirty I am, and I’ll do the same to you. Hell, let’s see who’s dirtier!”

For a second, I think she’s going to say no. Is she going to back out?

But when her tongue hits me, pressing me with pleasure, I understand it’s all just an act. Very well, it’s time for me to take some pleasure of my own.

I explore her hips, slicking my tongue inside her. Damn, is she tight! She’s never experienced anything like this before, has she?

She pants. “Andro, that spot’s just… please…”

“I make the rules here,” I smile. “My bedroom.”

My tongue explores even deeper within her, feeling the crevice deep inside. She’s so wet already! Her juices mix with my saliva, pouring her sweet tastes into my mouth. Oh, yes, yes, yes!

She’s really getting into it – her lips pressing against my snatch, even nibbling a little bit of my clit. But that doesn’t stop me from one upping her. I slurp her fluids, a nasty wonderful sound of water in a cave, doing all it can to escape.

I don’t know what feels better – the sensation of Maho’s tongue on my special place, or my tongue on hers. Her legs jerk on their own, unable to contain themselves anymore. For a slightly sharper bite inside me, sending even a little bit of pain to my brain, she’s losing control.

Well, I’m not going to let her edge like I did. No, she’s going all the way to heaven in one go. I sniff her straight up, letting her copious pussy juices drive me wild. Yes, this is what love is. This is what I want – I want Maho!

I put my entire face inside her, letting my purple hair fall in front of my eyes. I’m not going to let one drop of her spill on the ground – it’s all my property!

My walls contract, and my body shakes, unable to keep the pleasure within it anymore. Yes, yes, Maho, that’s the spot! Tease me more, touch my more, let me be your master!

And she responds in turn. She spreads her legs wide, shaking with each lick – each sensual touch of my tongue onto her body.

I’m almost there… almost…

An explosion of fluid rocks my mouth. The sweet stuff floods inside, tickling my every pore. She’s so wonderful – so lovely even when she gets down dirty.

And I follow in turn. My parts explode, unleashing their fury on Maho. But she’s nowhere near as prepared, so my juices drench her face, trailing down off her mouth like drool. But there is some drool there too. My Maho, as unbecoming as a lady can be, and all mine.

I crawl back toward her. “Wow, you’re a mess,” I laugh. “How are you going to go to dinner like that?”

She shudders. “I-I don’t know what I just did. Please, don’t tell anyone about this! I couldn’t bear my family knowing about it or…”

I smile. “Oh, I won’t tell anyone. But what you did is called love. I love you Maho.”

She smiles back. “I love you too.”

I lean close. “Now, let me get you cleaned up.”

She smiles. “It’d be my pleasure~”

Oh, it certainly is her pleasure. She moans every second my tongue traces over my juices, feeling my sensitivity.

“Now, it’s your turn to taste,” I smile.

I lock my lips on hers, and force my tongue inside. Yes, Maho. This is me. This is the real Andromeda.

I love you.
« Last Edit: February 17, 2018, 11:01:29 pm by Meliran »

Offline Duke Rockhopper

Re: Valentine's Day 18 Contest - Best HS Waifu/OTP
« Reply #19 on: February 17, 2018, 11:01:30 pm »
:3

The Bigfoot: Curse you penguins! I knew all that waddling and falling around was a bluff|woolyshambler: frankly i'm surprised the genetically enhanced mutant penguins hadn't shown up sooner. you could say i've been expecting them. |GreyCat: duke could be better at spelling, but he chooses instead to spend his time focusing on arse|The Meta concedes Penguins are better|Deeox2: Looked like the commbox collectively lost it. Nice.|Jynx: Yandere Duke scares me... A lot.|Deeox2: Hey. It ain't lewd. I'm just waiting for Duke to kiss me|Elvis Strunk: Silly Duke. I am the woman, you are the penguin.

Offline Arraxis

Re: Valentine's Day 18 Contest - Best HS Waifu/OTP
« Reply #20 on: February 17, 2018, 11:19:10 pm »
Meli likes to write lewd Maho stuff. This time it's Andro~

Offline Meliran

Re: Valentine's Day 18 Contest - Best HS Waifu/OTP
« Reply #21 on: February 21, 2018, 03:47:08 pm »
So this is the actual entry if I'm limited to 1. No lewds in here, it's just romance of Pluto x Cordelia~ ^^

Pludelia
White flakes fall from the sky – the tears of the clouds frozen over from their descent to Akkierens. It’s not like the clouds have any particular reason to cry. They don’t know pain, nor do they understand sadness. Yet cry they do, leaving us to deal with the piles of snow covering the paths in the Lyceum.

It’s still early – way before any other Maid in the Lyceum would be up. But I’ve always been an early riser. When I managed my parents’ company, I had to be the first one to report to business in case anybody had a question for me, and I then had to subtract a few hours so I could go for a morning job, take a shower, and otherwise get ready for work.

If anything, my life as a Maid has seemed easy in comparison. There are more dangers to fighting for the sake of good than there are in sitting behind a desk pushing paperwork, sure. But I can get up much later – 6 in the morning – and when I fail, there is always a companion there to help pick me up. Maho, Sylvia, Andromeda… all my friends are there. Even Lola at times could be helpful, if not a bit suspicious.

“Time for a run.” Even in the midst of the winter, I run in my short and a tank top. My body produces well enough heat to keep me going, and if I ever get cold, it means I’m not trying hard enough. After affixing my sports bra and slipping the white tank top-over it, I head out to the paths of Lyceum.

They’re all covered in white, as to be expected. Our students should be out here in maybe two hours to shovel them off, ruining the chance to really work out my leg muscles. The air from my mouth is a sharp white – steam from my breath. It really is cold.

“Let’s go.” My legs pick off, fully ready for their run. The snow has to be ten centimeters deep, requiring me to pick my legs up high. It really burns the quads to run in this, but my quads could really use some work. Before long, I fade into my runner’s hypnosis, not really feeling my legs anymore and plotting out the day’s activities in the back of my mind.

This hypnosis usually allows me to run ten kilometers without feeling a thing, even in the snow. The key is for me to not get distracted. However, today is not the day.

In the midst of the sea of white, my eyes catch something pink. Refocusing in, it’s not just a random pink ball – it’s a person. She’s rather small, to the point where I’m not even sure if she’s hit puberty yet. Her pink hair is tied into a pair of pigtails, although it’s fairly obvious to tell that it’s not her natural color. Her eyes, however, draw my attention even more than her hair.

They’re pink, the same color as her hair. But while she may have a few blonde roots visible in her hair, her eyes have to be that color naturally. Not only that, but they are deep and majestic – as if they were casting a magical spell on me, even if they weren’t looking directly at me.

No, instead they are looking at a sculpture made out of snow. It seems to be some sort of building, but it’s not as if it’s a castle or other fairytale structure that young girls may dream of. Rather, it’s a rather rustic house with finger carvings made out to make it seem like it is made of brick instead of snow. Its windows are covered with snow, as if to suggest they are broken and boarded up.

Usually, I would pass her by and let her do her business. But she’s out here in a pair of pink pajamas instead of her uniform. Our uniforms have a natural layer of insulation to keep us cool, but with so little physical activity and in such inappropriate clothing, she could hurt herself.

“You’re going to catch a cold,” I warn her.

She jumps from her crouching position, falling back on her rear. That’s only going to make matters worse to have all the icy stuff draping on her body. But what’s even stranger is she doesn’t make a sound. She simply looks up at me with those mystical pink eyes, as if searching into the depths of my soul.

I’m going to need to cut my run short today. This girl’s health matters more, but I’ll need to intrigue her to get her to listen to me. “What’s this place you’re building?”

She turns back to the house. “Home.”

It’s not that surprising. Even though we’ve been part of the Lyceum for months now, many Maids are still getting homesick. That was never really a problem for me – my home is only a structure, nothing more. There are housemaids and butlers there keeping the place clean, but once my parents disappeared there was nothing special about it. Only a few memories and ghosts of my past wandering the halls.

I roll up a couple small balls of snow. “This home is missing something.” I stack the balls together in front of the entranceway. “Here’s your dad, your mom, and this little one is you.”

She stares at them. All of a sudden, her hands grab the larger ones and hurl them far away and away from the house.

I see. I shouldn’t have interfered – this girl has a lot more going on than I had imagined.

She rolls up another ball a bit larger than the one representing herself. And she positions it close to hers – very close. A tear drips out of her eye.

Maybe this is my chance. “We’re going to need to get inside,” I warn her. “You’re going to get sick staying out here.”

She doesn’t say a word. She pushes herself up off the ground and stares into my eyes again. She doesn’t want to leave this place. It’s clear as day on her face. But there’s an emotion far more powerful inside there – obedience. It’s normal for a Maid to display a trickle of obedience, but this is beyond this. It’s as if she’s trying to be a good girl and do what’s expected of her instead of doing what’s right because it’s right. Her motivation is from without instead of within.

“I’m not going to force you.” The snow bites at my exposed legs – the heat from my run fading into the chilly Akkierens night. “You can stay out here as long as you want. You don’t owe anything to me. But if you want to come back to the dorms with me, I’d feel a little bit better.”

She doesn’t move. I guess she’ll stay out here and get sick, and then she’ll have to deal with one of the senior Maids to explain why she let herself get ill. It’s a shame, but it’s her life to live, not mine. At least she can make her own decisions without having to rely on anyone.

I turn to leave, not daring to look back.

A hand grabs a hold of my wrist. I could easily rip my arm away – it’s not necessarily a strong grab – but it’s not an intimidating hold.

The girl takes deep breaths, not daring to let go of me. “Pluto,” is all she says.

“Pluto?” Those two syllables don’t even make much sense. I believe I heard of a cartoon dog like that on the holonet as a kid, but why would she be mentioning such a thing to me?

“My name. I am Pluto.”

A fake name if I’ve ever heard of one. It’s not something worth digging into in any case. “My name’s Cordelia. I hope we can be good friends from now on.”

This time, the girl does follow me, keeping to my footsteps on the way back to the dorm. Those five words are the last words I can get out of her until I leave her off at her room.

Maho is still asleep when I return to my room. Usually, I would be kicking myself right now for failing to complete my run. I should have run 10k, but only did 5k before I got interrupted. But this wasn’t any old delinquent Maid I’d need to discipline as part of my job on the discipline committee. No, this girl was something else entirely. She wasn’t trying to cause trouble – she was only remembering a past I can maybe never understand. My heart ached for her and her dark past, whatever it may be.

I need to find out more about her, no matter what it takes.

It isn’t long until I meet her for a second time. It’s pretty obvious why I’ve never met her before even though Maid Day was all those months ago. She has a natural ability to blend into any crowd. Her height certainly makes such a skill easier, but there’s something else about her. It’s like she can turn eyes away from her, becoming small and uninteresting at will.

That does nothing for me, who’s specifically seeking her out in the first place. It’s at breakfast when I spot her eating alone in the corner of the cafeteria. “Sorry Maho, but I have to eat somewhere else today.”

She lifts an eyebrow at me. “I mean, all right. You’ll be back with us for lunch, right?”

The pink-haired girl seems to draw me in. “I don’t know. Don’t bother saving a seat for me in any case.”

The girl has a trio of pancakes stacked neatly above each other, a glob of butter dripping down the sides of them. Every so often she’d cut a neat triangle out of them and slip it into her mouth, but never before ensuring she’s chewed every last bit of her last bite.

“Mind if I join you?” I ask.

She stares up at me, her mouth almost quivering. She doesn’t say a word, only staring.

I take a seat next to her. She seems to almost jump from her seat, pushing herself away from me.

“Do you not want me to sit here?”

She turns her focus back down to her pancakes, cutting out yet another slice of it.

“You’re not going to get anywhere like that. Without communication, people are going to walk all over you. It’s a key aspect of being a Maid, as one misunderstanding could kill your comrades out there, or sometimes do things even worse.” I split my pancakes apart, preferring to eat them individually instead of as a stack. “If you don’t want me here, I’ll leave. But you need to say so. Open up your mouth and let me here your voice.”

The girl seems to shrink, becoming small against the table. Am I maybe pushing it a bit too hard? If a bystander saw us, they might think I’m bullying the poor girl.

Her mouth opens just a bit. “I don’t mind.” It’s all she says, but it’s definitely an improvement beyond staring at me with those mystical eyes of hers.

There’s no lie in her voice. She really doesn’t mind the companionship of having another girl sitting with her. To be honest, it’s a little bit more peaceful than Maho’s usual antics at the breakfast table.

She doesn’t speak again, but that’s to be expected. This is the type of girl who doesn’t speak unless she’s spoken to. There was a girl a lot like her back on Maid day – Jane. They were both timid, and both of them have their hands wrapped – although this girl’s seems to be her engine, while Jane’s came because I may have used a little bit too much force to grab it. But there’s something quite different about the two of them too. While Jane had been timid, it was the worst type. She wasn’t willing to open herself up to anyone except that Élice person. This girl, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be leaning on anyone. She’s facing the world alone, unafraid of naught but her own self.

Maybe the fates really had brought the two of us together earlier in the morning. “So, tell me something about yourself. Do you have anything you like? Dislike? What are your hobbies?”

She pokes her fork on her plate. “Nothing, really.”

It’s all she says. This is going to be a bit more of a challenge that I expected. I was quick to give up on Jane when she gave me nothing and expected nothing in return. There was no drive within me to get to know her any more. After all, if she wasn’t the type of girl who’d want to share a bit about herself and be a friend, then she wasn’t the type of girl I’d actually care about.

So why is this girl so different? Why do I want to pull her along and get her to open herself up to me, and change? There has to be something I can say – some sort of pick I can use to break through the icy barrier of her personality.

Unfortunately, the clock is already moving toward the hour mark – the end of our breakfast routine. Worse still, I’m going to be on the fields so it’s not like I can come back here for lunch either.

“Are you doing anything tonight?”

She swallows the last bite of her pancakes. “Not really.”

I piece together my plates and readjust my uniform. “If you want, I need to stop in the city for a few things. It’s kind of lonely going by myself, but if you want to come with me, I’d be most appreciative. We’ll meet at the entranceway to the dorms at 6 PM, all right?”

She doesn’t respond to that question. It’s better that way, for I already know the answer. This is going to be the last time I ever see the girl in anything more than passing. She doesn’t like me – she thinks I’m a nuisance. But, maybe that’s for the best. If she’s going to keep to herself, I shouldn’t be messing around with her.

Besides, what would I even gain? She’s probably a capable Maid, seeing how she’s still part of the Lyceum after all these months. Truth be told, a Maid’s career is short. Two out of every three Maids who had introduced themselves on Maid Day are no longer with us. Most found the work to be too demanding, too stressful, or too dangerous, and left. But it must be admitted that many of them had departed in another way, passing onto the afterlife after accidents of their own making.

For such a girl to still be alive and with us, she’s a lot stronger than she gives off.

I’ll see what she does tonight. I’m already prepared – she’s not going to show up, and that’ll be the end of it. But why does that thought hurt my heart so much?

Training always leaves me sore. I may be the most athletic of all the girls around, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have to try. There is always more I can do – always more effort I can put in to help my teammates. But today’s training has been a complete disaster. For every time I’m about to strike a “killing blow” with my axe, that girl’s face pops up in my mind again. Why? Why do I care so much about whether she shows up tonight or not? I already know the answer, so worrying about it any more isn’t going to help in any way.

It doesn’t matter. I’ve never been one to give up. If I’m going to do something, I’m going to see it all the way through. Even if I know she’s going to stay in her room, I’ve got to act like she’s going to say yes. And that includes getting ready.

I strip out of my uniform and grab something a little bit more comfortable for my time in town. I opt for a black strapless dress – something which is long enough to keep me distinguished from the prostitutes, but yet short enough to highlight the results of my running. With it in hand, I take my time in the shower, thinking about what I’m going to do tonight.

Truth be told, I have very little to do in town. I was going to buy some chocolate for Maho, and we are running a bit low on soda. If that girl isn’t there, I’ll take care of the errands, share the chocolates, and maybe do something special for Maho after, like beta reading one of her disgusting boys-love stories. It is Valentine’s Day after all.

But if that girl is there, I don’t think I can squeeze all my plans into a night. No, there’s so much more I want to do with her than buy a couple of pieces of chocolate.

The trip down the stairs hurts more than it should. My heart races with each step, knowing more and more the disappointment I’m going to feel at the bottom. She’s not going to be there, and my pursuit to know her will end then and there.

Just a few more steps. I turn the corner, hoping one last time to see her.

The lobby is empty.

There’s nobody there at all – not even a Maid departing for dinner. She didn’t come. I should have expected it. She’s not going to turn from her timid nature to become a socialite in a matter of a day. It’s a total failure.

I guess I’ll get Maho and extra big box of chocolates then. I could use a couple myself to soothe myself, even if wallowing in my feelings is against my character and beliefs.

My eyes blur. “Huh?” I lift my finger to them, and it brushes against a pooling of moisture. Tears? Why am I crying? A Maid just doesn’t want to be my friend, that’s all. I have plenty of other friends in the Lyceum, so why… Why am I feeling this way?

My fingers brush them aside. I don’t need to worry about such trivial matters. If I made this friendship so quickly, I can break it just as quick.

The snow has stopped outside, but that doesn’t mean it’s sunny. In the darkness of the winter, the sun sets quick, leaving the world shrouded in darkness. It’s the perfect situation – I don’t know what I’d do if everything was happy and sunny outside.

“Let’s go,” I tell myself.

A hand grabs my wrist. What now? I don’t need to stay at Lyceum any longer – I need to get out of here. If anyone sees me in this sort of a state, my reputation as the sole member of the discipline committee will be forever sullied.

I can’t just ignore her in any case. It’s probably just Maho asking me where I’m going in a dress instead of a Maid outfit.

Turning around reveals the last person I expect – the girl with pink hair and pink eyes. She’s still in her black dress with a pink apron over it. She doesn’t smile, and hardly makes a sound. All she says is “Six.”

I peer my eyes up at the clock. Indeed, it is exactly six at night. I had arranged to meet her at six, and hence she arrived then. How stupid can I be to assume she’s not coming before the promise time had come and gone?

“I’m glad you came,” is all I can get out.

She doesn’t respond, of course. There is no question, so there is no need for her to answer. But I want to hear her voice more – that is what tonight is about.

“Where do you want to go tonight?” I ask her. It’s only polite to mix up my desires with hers.

She doesn’t say much more than, “nowhere really.”

I nod. “Then I have a few places. First, let’s go get you some clothes.”

She holds her hands to her chest. Sure, while the Maid outfit is nice to wear around when on official business, it’s a bad idea to wear one all the time. Besides dirtying it, if one were to shame themselves, it would look bad on all Maids. And that’s ignoring all the attention a Maid gets when she goes somewhere.

Indeed, we haven’t even stepped two feet in town when the whispers of the people flood my ears.

“Is that a Maid?”

“Is something happening?”

“To think the police couldn’t handle it…”

The girl doesn’t show any emotion to any of these accusations, keeping her focus ahead wherever I may lead.

We enter the department store, filled with their hundreds of outfits made for any possible occasion. None of them are going to fit her by the looks of them, being made for a more adult body. She has the exact opposite problem of me. Finding clothes to fit my chest is often such a pain, especially since it still hasn’t stopped growing. What may be loose one month may be tight the next.

There is one option for the girl, but it’s rather insulting for her. “Stay here,” I warn her. “I’ll find something nice.”

She holds her hand in front of her chest, but that’s all she does in protest.

As much as she might hate it, bringing a proper Maid into the “Juniors” section would be far too insulting. I’ll have to just eyeball her sizes and hope for the best. But what would look best on her? Somehow skirts don’t seem to work well on my imagination of her body, and she probably wouldn’t like long pants.

And then I find it.

Somebody screams. What now?

At the cash register are two men dressed in black, holding a gun up to the cashier. She shakes, unsure of what to do. Damn it, why didn’t I bring my axe with me? I could have stopped them and…

The girl walks toward them.

“Hey, kid,” sneers a guy, “can’t you see we’re busy here?”

The other guy even goes so far as to point his gun at her. “Get lost.”

But she doesn’t seem to care. Rather, she grabs the both of them by their wrists, and with a quick whip over her head, slams them into the floor. A few articles of merchandise rattle from the force of her slam.

Had this been the police, the people would have probably cheered. But Maids are different. They stay back and whisper to each other, knowing very well what our eventual fate will be. All of us are slowly being poisoned by the powers we possess, and watching any of us perform special feats is only a reminder that we’re driving ourselves to ruin.

She walks away from the thieves as if nothing happened, returning to her position in waiting.

I may have misjudged her. Maybe she isn’t someone who needs help opening up. Maybe she’s someone who has everything figured out already.

We meet up in front of a changing room. “I think this will look nice on you,” I pass her the outfit.

She takes only one look at it and then back at me. “It’s small.”

I wave her inside. “You haven’t even put it on. Come on, let me see how it looks on you.”

She doesn’t say anything more. Like an obedient child, she walks into the dressing room to change. But she certainly doesn’t look like an innocent obedient child when she comes out.

That is part of the goal, of course. I had to get that impression off her. She’s in all black leather from head to toe. She’s wearing tight leather boots which go above her knees, leaving just a little bit of skin visible before her body is covered again by a pair of tight black shorts. Above that is the leather jacket, leaving just a bit of skin below it, but nothing above – covering the entirety of her arms.

That’s not how it’s supposed to go. “That’s supposed to be worn open,” I move toward her to unzip the coat.

She holds her hands up defensively. But when she sees I’m not going to back down, she allows me to undo the zipper, and expose what is inside – a black tub top exposing her stomach, but not much of her chest since she has none to expose.

It works too well. The cute innocent face with the rebel’s body creates such a gap in consciousness, she can only be called good looking.

“I don’t know about you,” I say, “but I’m getting hungry. So let’s buy that for you and go somewhere to eat, all right?”

She only looks aside.

It’s hard to believe how, even though the girl is dressed in clothes that somebody who looks double her age would shy away from, she actually gets less stares than in her Maid outfit. The more we go into town, however, the more people crowd the streets.

“We should probably hold hands,” I say.

She goes a little pink in the face. Why? I’m only trying to make sure she doesn’t get lost in the crowd. I wouldn’t want our night together ruined as we try to search for each other. Speaking of which, we really don’t have much of a way to communicate with each other if something happened and we did get separated. I’ll take care of that at the diner.

“Here,” I hold my hand out. “Don’t let go.”

Her hand shakes as she examines it. But then, with a deep breath, she clasps it in mine. Even with the bandage of her engine, I can feel just how soft it is. It’s so delicate, as if I could snap it if I squeezed it too tight.

Thinking of it, I did do that to Jane once before, didn’t I? Maybe I shouldn’t squeeze too hard.

She sweats a little. Is it too hot with all these people around here? I can see where it could be a problem. But there’s more to it than that – a lot more. Something’s bothering her. Maybe she’ll tell me once we get to our tables.

The diner is not necessarily the largest place in the world, but it’s also not the most popular. There are always just enough tables for the amount of guests at the busiest part of the day, so we don’t need to wait even a second before a waitress shows us to our seats.

The girl fingers through the menu, burying her head out of my sight.

“Can I get you something to drink?” asks the waitress.

“Just water for me, thank you.”

The girl lifts her head from the menu. In the softest voice I think I’d heard out of her yet, she whispers, “Orange soda.”

Now that I think of it, when we had breakfast in the morning she was drinking orange soda there too. The waitress takes our menus and makes off with our orders – a large plate of spaghetti and meatballs the two of us are going to share.

“Is there something special about orange soda?” I ask her.

Her eyes shake a bit at my question. Is she recalling something? But she lowers her head again. “Nothing, really.”

Silence falls between us. If I don’t take the initiative, she’s not going to say another word all night. Now that I think of it, my original plan of going to the movies with her after this dinner wouldn’t be a good idea to spend some time with her and get to know her better. I need somewhere I can talk to her and laugh with her, if she’s capable of laughing in the first place.

“So, what kind of elements do you specialize in?” What a stupid question. I should be asking things to figure out her life more, not factual questions she can answer without any personality.

“Aevum.” A concise one-word answer I should have expected.

Now how to make this conversation flow? “Aevum, huh? I happen to use Cyseince, although I’ve always loved the powers of Aevum. The ability to heal grave injuries must be pretty nice, right?”

“It’s all right.”

I’m getting nowhere. Let’s try a different direction. “Do you play any sports?”

“A little.”

I need to be specific with her. She’s not going to give me a specific answer unless I ask a specific question.

“Do you enjoy baseball?”

She shakes her head.

“Tennis?”

Another shake. There has something in particular she likes, and if I phrase it just the right way, I might get an answer. “What is your favorite sport?”

She blushes a little. There is nothing she can say without letting me dig into her personality a bit. “I… don’t particularly like sports.”

“You said you played them. Don’t you like what you play?”

Her face turns a little red. “Well, maybe a little. I guess if I had to choose… something I can do… Like bowling?”

Finally! It’s as if the icy barrier inside her has finally broken. It takes all my efforts to not cheer for my success. Truth be told, I’ve never really had an opinion on bowling, but if it’s something that can help me get closer to her, I’ll take it. “There’s an alley close to here, so why don’t we go after dinner?”

“You really don’t have to…”

“Nonsense! We deserve a bit of time to relax and have some fun, right?”

The waitress arrives with our meal and a pair of plates for us to take smaller portions. We wouldn’t want a disaster where we eat the same strand of spaghetti and accidentally kiss, would we?

Why is my heart beating so fast when I’m imagining that happening? Well, it’s no matter. Unfortunately, I don’t get much more of a reaction out of Pluto for the rest of the meal. The two of us are too well trained in appropriate manners to ever dare speak with food in our mouths.

By the time we finish with dinner, it’s already quite late – nearing nine at night. To make matters worse, snowflakes are fluttering down from the pregnant clouds again, draping the walkway in white.

The girl holds her hand to her mouth to let out a big yawn like some kind of kid staying up past her bedtime. But I know now she’s no child. She may be quiet, but she’s competent. She’s no Jane – she’s her own person.

“So, bowling time,” I flex my fingers. “It’s been so long since I picked up a ball.”

The girl trudges after me, leaving footprints of her boots in the snow. She casually brushes one of her twintails and flicks the snow right off of it. With all that, she remains silent, following where I would lead her.

The alley is packed by the time we arrive. The balls roll down and smack into the pins on thirty consecutive lanes, each one with a pair of bowlers.

“Lane 31 for 2 please,” I hand the clerk my personal card. “We’d like it for an hour.”

The clerk raises an eyebrow. “You know this is couple’s only night, right? Are you two lesbians or something?”

The girl’s face flushes at the mention of it. She’s not going to say anything regardless. But a little white lie here and there can’t hurt, right?

“Yes,” I declare. “We’re lovers.”

I wrap my arm around her, which makes her go even more red. She grabs at her wrist in a desperate attempt to defuse some of the pressure away from her head.

The clerk passes us a scorecard. “It’ll turn off when the hour’s up, so make sure you keep track of the time.”

I turn to head to the lanes, but the girl grabs hold of my wrist. What now? We’re still too close to the clerk too, so I ask, “What now, my love?”

I swear I can see steam coming out of her ears. “Bumpers.”

Bumpers? “What about them?”

“I… need them…”

To think a girl her age would still be using bumpers. “No. I won’t allow it.” The clerk glares at us, so I add on, “my dear. You won’t always have a crutch to catch you in life, and bowling is the same way. If you fail, you fail, but the worst failure is not trying.”

She doesn’t reply to my speech.

It’s a shame there’s a limit on ball weight. Even at the max 7.26 kilo standard, this thing is as light as a feather. Just getting it down on the ground to roll instead of throwing it is going to be a challenge.

The girl sweats. Her tiny arms struggle to pick up the 2.72 kilo ball. If I’m going to keep going with her, I’m going to need to do some strength and conditioning training with her. She’s great when she uses her Albeister abilities for strength, such as in the department store, but outside of that she’s just a cute girl.

The pins come down, and the girl sits on the stool to enter our names. Of course, she enters mine first, which means it’s my turn.

Now, how did I use to do this? At the corporation, we’d occasionally have bowling nights, but I was usually too bogged down in paperwork to attend them. The last time I really did bowl was before my parents disappeared. And back then, I blamed the pins for the bad things on my life. I got angry.

Yes, indeed, it’s these pin fault that it’s snowing outside! It’s their fault that this girl won’t talk to me!

Fire flares in my vision. With a yell, I hurl the ball down to the lane.

Crack

The ball smacks into the pins. But unlike the other lanes, where they simply fall down, these shatter on contact, spraying shards all over the place. A strike!

“The hell?!” shouts an employee.

That is when I realize what I’d done. Apparently I had thrown the ball so hard I managed to crack the lane itself. Pluto slouches in her seat, trying to appear as small as possible.

By the time the manager comes over and sets us up on another lane, we’ve already lost half of our time. “Now, try using a little less force, all right?” he warns.

“I’m sorry,” I bow to him.

The girl picks her ball up in two hands. Her eyes dart between the two sides, her knees trembling from nervousness.

“You can do it~” I cheer.

She takes a few timid steps up to the line and with a push, she releases the ball. It doesn’t have much speed, that’s for sure. But what it’s lacking in power, it makes up for accuracy. It hits right into the pocket, knocking each pin into the other, until finally all ten are down.

“Yes, Pluto!” I cheer. She blushes a little before returning to the chairs for my turn.

Each round is the same. It isn’t long before a small crowd starts to gather, looking on at the pair of girl aiming for perfect games.

“Why did you want bumpers?” I have to ask as we enter the tenth frame. She hasn’t even gotten close to the gutters once this entire game.

She holds her hand. “Sometimes… it’s good to have something to hold onto.”

Meaning she didn’t want to actually use them. She was just keeping herself safe should she mess up. She wasn’t looking for a crutch – she was looking for a safety plan. Maybe I’m the one who’s wrong in all of this. Maybe I should be learning from her, instead of the other way around.

My first two ball in the tenth frame are perfect strikes. One more strike, and I’ll be able to claim perfection, and the most Pluto can do is tie me. My competitive spirit is heating up. This is going to be my victory!

But somewhere deep inside me, something else bubbles – deep within the confines of my heart. It’s telling me the exact opposite of my spirit. It wants to let her win.

Maybe I should. This girl really could use a pick-me-up. Something’s getting her down, and winning a bowling game might just get her happy again.

I throw the ball just a bit to the left, intentionally keeping my arm a little too straight. The crowd groans as my ball hits the pins awkwardly, leaving one standing in the corner.

Pluto just stares at me as I return to her. “Oops,” I conk my head. “Guess I messed up..”

She doesn’t stop staring. Is she that judgmental about a miss?

She steps up to the line. But she’s not in the middle. Wait… what is she doing?

She pushes the ball straight into the gutter, where it rumbles down to a big flat zero.

“Pluto?” I ask.

She grabs another ball and again lines herself up at the gutter. With a final push, she lets the ball go, ending the game.

What is going on?

When we get back outside, the snow has only increased in intensity. “What’s the big idea?” I’m losing my cool. “Why would you just give up like that? Do you think any Maid would do something like that on the battlefield – just throwing their lives away for nothing?”

She doesn’t make any expression, or even a sound. Her deep pink eyes just stare into mine, examining the depths of my soul.

“Well, answer me! Why did you give up?”

Her mouth barely moves. “Because you did.”

My heart freezes. She’s right. I could have gotten a strike that last ball. I did the exact same thing I’m accusing her of. How did she notice though?

I can’t underestimate this girl.

I crash to my knees. “I… I’m sorry. I just wanted to let you win, that’s all. I thought it’d make you happy.”

She takes a few steps toward me and places her hand on my head. “Just being with you makes me happy.”

My head jerks up. That has to be the most she’s said since we’ve met. And she knows it too – her face is beet red, and her hands are over her mouth.

At the same time, though, something rivets in my body. My blood is flowing, and my heart pounding. Could it really be…

“Let’s get what I wanted to get done finished,” I pick myself up. “And then we can get to sleep.”

The supermarket is rather empty at this time of night – midnight is approaching fast. As I suspected, the chocolates are stripped bare from the wall. All the last minute shoppers had grabbed it, leaving somebody like me with nothing more that this single box of caramels. “It’s not exactly chocolate,” I say to myself, “but Maho’ll like it in any case.”

Pluto is holding a box of something in her hands, examining the contents.

“What do you have there?”

She holds up the box for me – a box of cocoa powder.

“What are you going to make?”

She grips on the box harder. “Chocolate.”

“Oh? Did I keep you from someone tonight?” More and more, I realize just how selfish I’ve been. I took her out, dressed her up how I wanted her to look, took her to a dinner she probably didn’t want, and then thought only of myself in the bowling alley. I didn’t even ask her if she had any plans for tonight.

“Not really.”

“Then who’s the chocolate for?”

She looks aside. “Someone special.” I think that’s the end of it, but she whispers one last statement which strikes me straight at the heart. “Because homemade chocolate shows you care.”

Homemade? Yes, Maho is special to me, but I’d never thought of making homemade chocolate for her. It doesn’t matter to her whether the chocolate is bought from a store or made from scratch, so long as it tastes good. But even then, it’s really still just obligation chocolate. I like Maho, but I don’t necessarily like her as anything more than a friend.

Love – the meaning of Valentine’s Day. It’s an area I never really got to broach in my life. I was too busy all the time, working for my parents’ company, managing the affairs at the manor, or training to become a Maid. It’s something I never really felt before.

But as my heart beats, I realize exactly what it really is. My heart isn’t just excited from all the activity. No, it has to do with the girl I’m with right now.

In fairy tales, they always speak of love at first sight. It’s only been a day since I met this girl, but maybe that is what I’m experiencing. She really is the lock to go with my key. What I have, she’s lacking, and what I’m lacking, she has. We don’t work well without each other, but with each other we could move mountains and reroute rivers. Or, at the very least, destroy bowling alleys.

I grab a box of coca powder. “You know, I do too.”

The kitchens of the Lyceum are a total mess, filled with used pots and pans, each one with the remnants of chocolate in them. To think Maids would be this sloppy is saying something. I’m going to have to have a long lecture tomorrow with the student populace on the need to clean up after what you’re doing and respecting others.

Pluto doesn’t seem to mind, as she washes off a pot to use to mix the ingredients. Nothing really seems to phase her. She may be upset at so many things in the world, but nothing keeps her from achieving her goals.

I wish I could be strong like that.

I ruffle the bag with her uniform. “Since we’re back at the Lyceum,” I say, “if you want to change back into your Maid uniform, you can.”

She looks down at my hand, and then returns to the pot. “It’s fine.”

I grip the bag tighter. “I mean, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have forced you into that outfit. You could have gone around looking for something better, or even stayed in your Maid uniform if you wanted. It was wrong of me to insist you wear this.”

She wipes down the pot and places it on the table. “It’s fine.”

Water wells in my eyes. “No, everything’s not fine. I just dragged you around tonight doing what I wanted to do, not caring at all for your feelings. What kind of a friend am I? I should never have talked to you or tried to get to know you. You were fine as you were, and I just ruined your Valentine’s day.”

She moves a bit closer to me. “No, you didn’t.”

“Now you’re just being nice. I’ve made everything awful. I mean, heck, you’re making these chocolates now, and you’re going to be late giving them to the person you care about because of me. Look at the time – it’s already past midnight.”

She looks up at the clock and then back at me. “Do you mind?”

I nearly crush my box of cocoa powder. “Of course I mind. Everything’s been ruined for you because of me.”

She shakes her head. “Do you mind your chocolates are going to be late?”

I hold my box up. “I mean, that depends on the person receiving it and—”

She empties the box. “Not those. The ones I’m making.”

She blushes a little. “For you.”

Time seems to stop. She means… I am her special person? I can’t believe it. Maybe this really is a match made in heaven.

I misunderstood everything from the day. She enjoyed everything we did together, because we were doing it together. I wasn’t bothering her – that’s why she never tried to go home.

I drop my powder and run around the table to her. “Pluto, I love you too! Please, I want to find out more about you. Do you think we could spend more time together, go on more dates, and have fun planning the rest of our lives out? If you don’t want to, I can understand, but still…”

She goes red. “Yes.”

I wrap my arms around her, feeling her warm body against mine. “Oh, Pluto!”

She grabs me back. “Can you call me something else…”

I let go for just a second. “Your real name?”

She shakes her head. “Sweet Pea.”

Sort of a weird name, but I’m sure I’ll learn why soon enough. “Of course, my Sweet Pea.”

I draw my lips to hers, and she makes no move to resist. And so we lock our lips together for the first of what is bound to be many times there in the Lyceum kitchens, enjoying the warmth of the other. My heart races as our lips touch.

Yes, this is what love is. I have found it in a girl I didn’t even know existed until today. But this is just the start of a long time together – both now and forever.

Offline Arraxis

Re: Valentine's Day 18 Contest - Best HS Waifu/OTP
« Reply #22 on: February 22, 2018, 09:13:02 am »
Go go Meli making a sweet story~!

Offline Arraxis

Re: Valentine's Day 18 Contest - Best HS Waifu/OTP
« Reply #23 on: February 28, 2018, 02:29:04 am »
Here is my entry for Valentine's. Bit less traditional, but I like something a little more unique.
Spoiler

Offline Elvis Strunk

Re: Valentine's Day 18 Contest - Best HS Waifu/OTP
« Reply #24 on: February 28, 2018, 02:32:39 am »
Oh hey look it’s my FEELINGS.

How dare you wake them up

It is a really sweet image though

Offline Deeox2

Re: Valentine's Day 18 Contest - Best HS Waifu/OTP
« Reply #25 on: February 28, 2018, 02:52:44 am »
I find this highly acceptable.

Master of Yuri approves.

Offline Jynx

Re: Valentine's Day 18 Contest - Best HS Waifu/OTP
« Reply #26 on: February 28, 2018, 02:58:15 am »
It's just beautiful.

Offline Meliran

Re: Valentine's Day 18 Contest - Best HS Waifu/OTP
« Reply #27 on: February 28, 2018, 12:20:30 pm »
And my last little thing.

Arraxis and the Octoweasel
Once upon a time, there was a girl named Arraxis. She hadn’t always been a girl, but after eating one of Meliran’s cookies, she realized the error of her way. It’s not that she necessarily minded being a girl – she had no interest in girls or guys, so it was really just a matter of whether she had to sit or stand to go to the bathroom. The cute clothes she got to wear were a plus, of course.

On this particular day, she was walking through the deep dark forest on her eternal quest to find the legendary “Saint Quartz” the villagers told her about. If she could only find it, maybe she could summon a servant! But this deep dark forest was rather scary. Trees would sometimes move on their own, and there’d sometimes be a growling sound from the shadows.

A huge breeze kicked up, fluttering Arraxis’s brunette twintails with them. They really seemed to go well with her body type, but there was something missing. As just a set of twintails, they seemed far too plain for Arraxis’s tastes.

Then, in the darkness, she saw something white. “Whatever could that be?” she asked herself. It most certainly couldn’t be the legendary “Saint Quartz.” No, it had to be something else.

She approached the white thing with caution, only to realize what it was – a flag tied to a stick, being waved around as if in surrender. “How odd, what would anyone have to surrender for?” she asked.

A few steps more revealed its holder. “A weasel?”

The creature was buried deep in the ground, revealing only its head. But with its snout, there was no other creature it could possibly have been. Its eyes perked up upon the mention of its species. “And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?” it asked.

Arraxis approached a little closer and squatted down, careful to keep her legs closed – another difficulty of her new female form. “My name is Arraxis of Hyperspace village. I seek the legendary Saint Quartz. Who might you be, Mr. Weasel?”

“Weasel?” it asked. “Do you not understand what I am?”

Nothing could describe Arraxis’s shock when the creature pulled itself out of the ground. For it didn’t have a pair of legs like Arraxis did. No, instead it had eight of them!

Arraxis almost blinked loudly. But then she remembered the various adverbs Dee insisted on using to describe his blinking, so she shook her head and instead stared at it to avoid copyright infringement.

“I am the Octoweasel!” it declared. “And I surrender!”

Arraxis tilted her head. “But I wasn’t going to fight you. Why would you surrender?”

It waved the flag. “It’s in my blood – it’s what I do. Now then, Miss Arraxis, you said you were in search of the legendary Saint Quartz?”

“Indeed! Do you know the way?”

It slithered over to Arraxis. “Indeed. It is a long and perilous journey, but I can lead you there should you desire my assistance.”

She wasn’t too thrilled with having such a creepy companion. But worst still was the thought of losing him. “We should hold hands so as to not get lost.”

Sheer horror fell on the Octoweasel’s face.

“Is that a problem?”

It looked aside. “I apologize, I have some traumas related to holding hands.” It turned back to Arraxis with a smile. “But I do have a little thing I can do to ensure we never get separated. It’s only a little bit of magic, and it’ll help us on our journey!”

Arraxis shivered. She couldn’t trust the Octoweasel. “What even is your name?”

It perked up. “We are the Meta!”

“We? But there’s only one of you.”

It moved each of its legs. “We are the Meta!”

Not wanting to push the point any further, Arraxis sighed. “Well, I need to get going. Maybe we’ll run into each other again?” She certainly hoped they didn’t.

All of a sudden, Arraxis felt a trio of pains – two from the top of her head where the twintails formed, and one from her butt. Was the Octoweasel attacking her? She spun around, ready to fight, but the Octoweasel wasn’t attacking her – at least not directly. But it was doing some sort of lewd magic involving flaying itself with its many legs.

“What are you doing?” she shouted. Unable to take the pain anymore, she put her hand on her head only to discover… ears?

When she reached around the back, she discovered something even more horrifying – a tail! Being a girl was one thing – the villagers had plenty of girls to go around. But a kitsune at that? How was she going to hide these new features?

“Turn me back!” she demanded.

But something had possessed the Octoweasel. It was staring at Arraxis with lust in its eyes, staring at her new body. It was beyond reasoning.

“Fluffy!” It shouted. It launched faster than should’ve been possible, aiming straight at Arraxis. No, Arraxis realized. It was launching straight for her tail!

“Let’s put these new features into use,” she smirked. Using muscles she never had before, she whips her tail around. It smacked straight into Meta, who flew against a tree in a sickening crunch.

Arraxis wasn’t about to waste any time. She ran as fast as her two legs would take her. Although Meta hadn’t given her any particular strength in running in this new body of hers, she found she was running faster than she ever had before. Her tail provided all the balance she needed so she didn’t need to worry about things like keeping herself upright.

When the Octoweasel was well out of sight, she finally stopped to take a break near a lake. One look in the lake revealed the horror that was her body. She was still the same girl she had become after stealing Meliran’s cookies. But this Octoweasel really had made her a kitsune. She ran her fingers over her ears, and through her tail. It was soft and fluffy – just as the Octoweasel had said. But how could that creature just jump at her and try to touch it like some kind of rapist? A tail rapist?

She unsheathed her sword. “Well, not like I’m giving him what he wants.” Her tail was going to be a pain – she’d have to shave it off every day like she shaved her legs. At least it wasn’t a muscular tail, only having real control near the base. She’s have to wear skirts to cover up the stump when she was done.

With a slash, the hairs of her tail fell to the ground. But there was nothing she could do for her ears – they were made of cartilage and bone. Then again, they probably were what she needed for her appearance. Something always felt missing there, and these accented her twintails perfectly.

When she looked into the lake again, she was satisfied with what she saw. Indeed, she enjoyed being a unique person, and maybe she’d get questions from curious kids as to why she had animal ears. The villagers might think her a little weird, but the kids were all that really mattered.

“You… destroyed the fluffy!”

Arraxis spun around. How did that Octoweasel find her so fast?

Arraxis put her hands on her hip. “I never agreed to this! What made you think you had a right to do such a thing to me?”

“Because… Fluffy!” it shouted. Faster than Arraxis could track it, it gathered the remains of Arraxis’s tail and pressed it against Arraxis’s rear. Like magic, it refastened itself, becoming even larger and fluffier than before.

Arraxis knew this creature was no good. She was going to have to kill it. “Die!” she shouted, swinging her sword around.

There was no resistance from the Octoweasel. Her sword slashed in clean in two, but she wasn’t satisfied with that. She swung her sword around over and over again, cleaving it into bite size pieces. “Hm,” she though. “I am pretty hungry to begin with.”

She turned her back on the corpse and headed to gather some firewood.

“Oh yes,” moaned the Meta.  “Hurt us more. Tie us up and dominate us.”

Arraxis froze in place. Her neck craned around, at where the chopped Octoweasel had lain now stood a new one, sitting among the disembodied pieces.

“There’s more of you?” she asked.

“Cut us up all you want. When an Octoweasel is cut up, from the largest part the body will recreate itself.”

Arraxis sighed. So there really was no getting rid of this fiend. Why had she gone for that white flag? She could have been happily on her way to retrieve her prize, and now she has to deal with this creature.

But the thing did seem to have some sort of modicum of honor in its own twisted way. “How about a duel?” she asked.   

“What do you mean?”

She drew her sword. “You and I have something we both want. You want me, and I want you to leave. We settle this like men…” Her boobs jiggled to remind her the irony of the statement, “and fight to the end. I win, and you leave. You win, and I suppose you can become my lover.”

It perked up. “You have yourself a deal!”

“Do you need a sword?”

It held its arms up. “Of course not. Ready to fight? Come at me!”

Arraxis honed in all her training. There was no way she could lose this. She took a stance, readying for the charge and—

Meta waved the white flag.

“Huh?” she asked.

The Octoweasel shivered. “That face you made was too scary! I can’t fight that. I surrender, I surrender!”

Arraxis clicked her tongue. “Typical French. Well, I’m leaving now, so I’d  ask you to leave me alone. I’ll figure out some way to deal with this tail later, but I’m on a journey.”

She turned and headed around the lake. The Saint Quartz was probably near those dark mountains just ahead.

Then she heard a whimpering.

She knew she shouldn’t look back. It was just a perverted Octoweasel, after all. But Meliran’s cookies had changed more than her body – it had changed her heart as well.

While the Octoweasel did change her into a kitsune and give her a fluffy tail, it wasn’t like it intended evil on her. Indeed, everything it did was out of love. And what did she do with the love of Meta? She cut it up and told it to stop following her. Was this what she was going to do to her future boyfriend? Well, that wasn’t much of a concern – she didn’t like boys in the first place. Or girls. But maybe she could make this one Octoweasel happy.

“Listen,” she said, kneeling down to it. “We won’t do anything lewd beyond holding hands – which is pretty lewd in and of itself, now that I think about it – but today is a special day in our village. It’s called Valentine’s Day. And since you seem to love me so much, you can become… my Valentine… for the day.”

It perked up. “Seriously?”

She nodded. “Now, let’s hold hands.”

The Octoweasel jumped up. “Fluffy!” it cried.

The truth hit Arraxis like a brick. Here she had been all forgiving and compassionate, believing love had motivated the Octoweasel to give her that tail because it loved her. But no, she had been wrong all along. It hadn’t given her the tail because it love her. It had given her the tail because it loved the tail itself!

Hell knows no fury like that of a woman scorned. She snatched the creature out of midair, and with more force than humanly possible, she threw it to the sky, never to be heard or seen from again.

“Well then,” she said, “back to my mission.”

Arraxis did manage to find the Saint Quartz, but unfortunately when she summoned her servant with it, it wound up being Stheno. Alas, not all stories end well for our protagonists.

As for Meta, he kept flying deep into outerspace. Just when he through he’d found a landing spot on Pluto, a giant Elvis smited him, and kept him flying until he eventually landed on Xena.

But Xena was a special planet, filled with Amazonian women who would dominate and abuse him.

And he had never been happier.

Offline Arraxis

Re: Valentine's Day 18 Contest - Best HS Waifu/OTP
« Reply #28 on: February 28, 2018, 01:39:31 pm »
Hahahaha, that was unexpected. Funny thing is I usually sit down anyway - saves having to flip the seat up and it's cleaner. I often cross my legs too, though often shifting to maintain comfort. I probably wouldn't say something like 'settle this like men', though, because I find the idea of that being inherently 'manly' stupid. All that 'be a man!' talk bothers me when used literally. I did enjoy this, though! 10/10 would eat Meli's cookies again no regrets.

Stheno is a Servant I still lack, too, so I wouldn't necessarily mind rolling her for completion's sake at least.

Offline WeAreTheMeta

Re: Valentine's Day 18 Contest - Best HS Waifu/OTP
« Reply #29 on: February 28, 2018, 04:39:08 pm »
The only problem I have with that story is the fact Arra didn't mind becoming a kitsune. I'm almost convinced I asked for his permission before doing it.

Apart from that accurate and funny, though with me even more masochistic (It's not because I'm an octoweasel that I like being cut up, told you as much!), I liked that story :P

Elvis Strunk [Aug 10, 2016, 12:40:11 am]:   Meta is eternally a loli~
Arraxis [Sep 23, 2016, 11:37:43 pm]:   Love you too Meta