Fright Covered Coffins (Ouran, PG)
Title: Fright Covered Coffins
Author: Dana-chaaan.
Information: Anime - Ouran Host Club - [Not really]NekozawaTamaki
Summary: Tamaki really shouldn’t have entered that guy’s meeting room. It was spooky and dark, and the guy himself was in there! And he’s talking about...what...?!
Author’s Note: Alright, here goes nothing! I just had the sudden urge to write an Ouran Host Club story, so here I am. I chose Nekozawa to start out with because I absolutely adore him! And, I guess the only possible person I’d put him with would be Tamaki. But I haven't seen the anime after like episode 9 or so [XDD] and I've never read the manga. So sorry if they're horrid characterization.
.StartFromHere.
School had ended excruciatingly slow as it always seemed to do, and the Host Club wrapped itself up early for the night. Tamaki, who always spent his excess energy charming lovely (paying) ladies (well, actually, scratch out paying), was left with gallons of sparkling enthusiasm. So, as everyone departed from the host room, Tamaki decided to venture through the school building himself. Kyoya would still be in the host room doing strange calculations (as he always was), so the blonde could run to Mother if he absolutely needed it.
Elated with that idea, and persuaded, he said his polite farewells to the other members, executing a special goodbye for Haruhi, who casually brushed it aside. Roaming down the opposite direction the others were, he glanced quickly at each closed door, deciphering the code of what could be behind it.
There were not many doors on this level of the building, Tamaki concluded. He had passed a few unimportant storage rooms and closets, but nothing truly fascinating had caught his intention. So, of course, he climbed down the stairs and ventured deep into the hallways of the ground level rooms and below.
Faintly spooked, but swallowing his unease and priding in his bravery, the blonde stepped carefully into the basement level of the school. So far, all the other floors he had already become acquainted with, and he wanted some adventure here! Assertive on this decision, Father journeyed down into the lower level of the school.
Dimmed lights adorned the few halls in the basement, displaying the ominous feeling that clung to the air and seeped dangerously into the walls. Feeling shivers creep up his spine, Tamaki froze in step, making sure he still had all his limbs. Acting casual, he glanced fervently at the doors, quickly reading all the labels and brushing down the spooky halls.
Soon enough, he chanced upon the most positively scariest room of the entire school: The Dark Magic Club. He regulated his breathing, telling himself all the stories he heard were just myths, and determined himself to open the door and have a little look-see. Assuring himself that Nekozawa wouldn’t stay this late, he twisted the freezing knob and gingerly pushed the door open.
Planted to his spot, he cringed as the door creaked on its hinges, showing the menacingly dark room, the only light being the dimmed hallway lamps he’d let seep in. Strictly seeing his sharp figure, he poked his body in the room and debated on closing the door.
But, as he stepped nearer the center of the room, he saw a candle lit up brightly then heard the slam of a door. Shocked, his head twisted earnestly to view the now-shut entrance. Spooked eyes rolled back to the perfectly-lit candelabra and noted the cloaked figure looming over it.
“And what do I owe this displeasure?” Nekozawa spoke in an eerily calm voice, causing Tamaki to hold his breath.
“I was just...adventuring,” the blonde sufficed, taking a seat in on of the cushioned chairs near the door, even though the rational part of his mind told him not to. Hell, even his irrational mind told him not to.
“Oh?” the cloaked figure inquired, “Shall we entertain our guest, Bereznoff?” he politely chimed to the yellow, cat puppet situated securely on his hand. Tamaki clearly saw, in the candle’s light, the puppet’s head nodding before Nekozawa looked his way once again.
“Well then,” Umehito began, “Here’s a question for you, Suoh-kun,” he began, earning the other’s undivided attention, “What should your coffin look like?”
Tamaki’s body went rigid and his complexion lost all color. Thoughts scurried through his head, panicked ideas of how Nekozawa was next planning to kill him and then shove his body in a creepy coffin and ship him off to Maylasia, or somewhere far away like that. In the distance, the questioner cackled dubiously, pulling the blonde from his morbid thougths.
“Well, Suoh-kun?” a delightful, yet evil, laugh escaped shadowed lips.
“...” Tamaki moved his lips in means of answering the question, but found his voice swallowed along with the lump in his constricting throat.
“Well, then, what should my coffin look like?” Nekozawa questioned, the shadows of his figure dancing eerily on the wall.
“...Dark?” Tamaki responded in a meek voice, sounding more questioning than answering.
“Hmm... That could work, yes,” the imposing ebony-haired male voiced. “Now, onto business... Would you like to donate to the Black Magic Club?”
.EndStopsThere.
Author’s Note: Comments are the most amazing thing you could ever do for me. :D
Author: Dana-chaaan.
Information: Anime - Ouran Host Club - [Not really]NekozawaTamaki
Summary: Tamaki really shouldn’t have entered that guy’s meeting room. It was spooky and dark, and the guy himself was in there! And he’s talking about...what...?!
Author’s Note: Alright, here goes nothing! I just had the sudden urge to write an Ouran Host Club story, so here I am. I chose Nekozawa to start out with because I absolutely adore him! And, I guess the only possible person I’d put him with would be Tamaki. But I haven't seen the anime after like episode 9 or so [XDD] and I've never read the manga. So sorry if they're horrid characterization.
.StartFromHere.
School had ended excruciatingly slow as it always seemed to do, and the Host Club wrapped itself up early for the night. Tamaki, who always spent his excess energy charming lovely (paying) ladies (well, actually, scratch out paying), was left with gallons of sparkling enthusiasm. So, as everyone departed from the host room, Tamaki decided to venture through the school building himself. Kyoya would still be in the host room doing strange calculations (as he always was), so the blonde could run to Mother if he absolutely needed it.
Elated with that idea, and persuaded, he said his polite farewells to the other members, executing a special goodbye for Haruhi, who casually brushed it aside. Roaming down the opposite direction the others were, he glanced quickly at each closed door, deciphering the code of what could be behind it.
There were not many doors on this level of the building, Tamaki concluded. He had passed a few unimportant storage rooms and closets, but nothing truly fascinating had caught his intention. So, of course, he climbed down the stairs and ventured deep into the hallways of the ground level rooms and below.
Faintly spooked, but swallowing his unease and priding in his bravery, the blonde stepped carefully into the basement level of the school. So far, all the other floors he had already become acquainted with, and he wanted some adventure here! Assertive on this decision, Father journeyed down into the lower level of the school.
Dimmed lights adorned the few halls in the basement, displaying the ominous feeling that clung to the air and seeped dangerously into the walls. Feeling shivers creep up his spine, Tamaki froze in step, making sure he still had all his limbs. Acting casual, he glanced fervently at the doors, quickly reading all the labels and brushing down the spooky halls.
Soon enough, he chanced upon the most positively scariest room of the entire school: The Dark Magic Club. He regulated his breathing, telling himself all the stories he heard were just myths, and determined himself to open the door and have a little look-see. Assuring himself that Nekozawa wouldn’t stay this late, he twisted the freezing knob and gingerly pushed the door open.
Planted to his spot, he cringed as the door creaked on its hinges, showing the menacingly dark room, the only light being the dimmed hallway lamps he’d let seep in. Strictly seeing his sharp figure, he poked his body in the room and debated on closing the door.
But, as he stepped nearer the center of the room, he saw a candle lit up brightly then heard the slam of a door. Shocked, his head twisted earnestly to view the now-shut entrance. Spooked eyes rolled back to the perfectly-lit candelabra and noted the cloaked figure looming over it.
“And what do I owe this displeasure?” Nekozawa spoke in an eerily calm voice, causing Tamaki to hold his breath.
“I was just...adventuring,” the blonde sufficed, taking a seat in on of the cushioned chairs near the door, even though the rational part of his mind told him not to. Hell, even his irrational mind told him not to.
“Oh?” the cloaked figure inquired, “Shall we entertain our guest, Bereznoff?” he politely chimed to the yellow, cat puppet situated securely on his hand. Tamaki clearly saw, in the candle’s light, the puppet’s head nodding before Nekozawa looked his way once again.
“Well then,” Umehito began, “Here’s a question for you, Suoh-kun,” he began, earning the other’s undivided attention, “What should your coffin look like?”
Tamaki’s body went rigid and his complexion lost all color. Thoughts scurried through his head, panicked ideas of how Nekozawa was next planning to kill him and then shove his body in a creepy coffin and ship him off to Maylasia, or somewhere far away like that. In the distance, the questioner cackled dubiously, pulling the blonde from his morbid thougths.
“Well, Suoh-kun?” a delightful, yet evil, laugh escaped shadowed lips.
“...” Tamaki moved his lips in means of answering the question, but found his voice swallowed along with the lump in his constricting throat.
“Well, then, what should my coffin look like?” Nekozawa questioned, the shadows of his figure dancing eerily on the wall.
“...Dark?” Tamaki responded in a meek voice, sounding more questioning than answering.
“Hmm... That could work, yes,” the imposing ebony-haired male voiced. “Now, onto business... Would you like to donate to the Black Magic Club?”
.EndStopsThere.
Author’s Note: Comments are the most amazing thing you could ever do for me. :D