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the-scandalorian · 3 years

Note

So basically, to piggy back off of your absolutely brilliant “Space Mistletoe,” maybe Reader continues to enlighten Din about how other people celebrate the Holidays and all of the different things that go along it with it? I’m thinking primarily Christmastime, but I’ve got ideas for others later 😉

I’m imagining Reader singing Christmas songs and Din being completely confused, but the kid would be delighted to no end lol

Hope you enjoy this little fluffy piece! I wrote it as if it’s a second part to Space Mistletoe.

Pairing: Din Djarin x GN!Reader Rating: T Word Count: 1.2k Warnings: Christmas-related celebrations as per the request, fluff and the teensiest lightest spice

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You weren’t totally sure how it happened—the two of you never had an explicit conversation about it, but revisiting the planet where it all started became a yearly tradition. No matter how chaotic your hunting schedule was, you always managed to eke out a few days during that same season to escape to the winter festival where you’d first kissed.

You knew full-well that Din wasn’t in it for the holiday cheer. He did it because he liked seeing you happy… and he liked having a regular excuse to rip off his helmet and latch his lips to yours. So, conveniently, he was equally as motivated to make the annual trip.

And when the kid came into the picture? Suddenly you had a powerful ally who also enjoyed all things warm and festive and who happened to pull on Din’s heartstrings as much as you did. Whether or not he’d admit it, Din was powerless to deny either of you something you wanted so badly—not when Grogu had perfected the art of the “uppy arms” and knew exactly when to use those big pleading eyes paired with a wobbly lower lip.

And you—you had a comprehensive list of Din’s soft spots etched onto the inside of your heart. You knew exactly what things made the unyielding Mandalorian thaw, what things made him soft and pliable in your hands: wearing his clothes, lacing your fingers in his when he wasn’t wearing his gloves, playing with his hair as he fell asleep curled around you, biting your bottom lip and looking up at him through your lashes.

So each time you visited this planet, your stay lasted a little longer. This time, you had booked a room at the local inn for five days.

You trudged back toward the inn, the kid on your hip, a laden bag slung over your shoulder, and a tiny evergreen tree tucked under your free arm. The market street was bustling with locals, and, as always, every available surface was decorated with garlands and baubles. The buildings were dusted in snow, each scalloped ledge and windowsill on the charming facades iced with a fine white powder. Everything looked sugar-coated and picture-perfect.

When you entered your room, Din was crouched in front of the fireplace, adding logs to reinvigorate the waning flames.

You set the tiny tree next to the hearth, and it stood upright on its base, the pointed top only as high as your thigh.

Din swiveled his head toward you. “What is that?”

You smiled widely, “A tree!”

He cocked his head at you, perfectly communicating the sentiment of yeah no shit without actually cursing in front of the kid. “Why would you bring a tree inside?”

Grogu giggled in your arms.

“Everyone does it! It's a tradition! So I decided we’re doing it this year too. You decorate it with lights and ornaments and put presents underneath! Isn’t it pretty?”

“It’s dripping on the carpet,” he pointed out.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Oh, relax. It’ll dry.”

Din chuckled, shaking his head as he refocused on his task.

“Look at this adorable hat I got Grogu!” You turned your body so Grogu was facing Din. A colorful knitted hat was perched between his floppy ears.

Din glanced over. “Nice. But it doesn’t cover his ears.”

You scowled down at him, gesturing at Grogu’s ears. “Have you seen these ears? No hat in the galaxy could cover these.”

Din snorted. “True.”

Grogu trilled, smiling up at you, two tiny teeth visible in his wide grin.

You smiled back at him. “What do you say? Are you ready to decorate this tree, buddy?”

He squealed in joy, waving his tiny hands above his head.

You laughed as you set him down, pulling your bag off your shoulder and dumping the contents on the floor. Grogu toddered forward excitedly, grabbing onto a string of lights.

Din made himself comfortable on the bed, leaned against the headboard while the two of you got to work.

Together, you and Grogu—well, he was more of a hindrance to the process than a help but his happiness made it worth the trouble— strung the lights on the tree and added a little star-shaped bauble to each branch. Din watched as you worked, saying encouraging things ("looks good, kid" and "nice job") to Grogu every few minutes when he looked over and quirked his head as if asking for Din's opinion.

To the child’s delight, you started singing a song you’d learned after so many years of attending this same festival and listening to the carolers. You knew all the popular ones by heart. Din, on the other hand, was not much of a singer. He liked hearing you sing though, liked how happy it made you. And Grogu was an even bigger fan.

As you belted it out, Grogu squeaked and squealed and gurgled along, vaguely following the cadence of the song. Din chuckled, shaking his head.

When the tree was fully decorated, you plugged the lights in. Grogu chirruped when they blinked to life, eyes huge and glistening as he took in the tree, the rainbow of lights reflected in his wide pupils.

You smiled fondly at him then turned to look at Din and say, “How does it look?”

Grogu looked at him too, letting out a quiet, “Ba?”

Din surveyed it for a moment, the stern lines of his visor scanning the bedecked tree. “Almost perfect.”

“Almost?”

He leaned over and reached into a bag sitting next to him on the nightstand, pulling out two wrapped parcels with ribbons tied around them.

“Here, these go under it, right?”

You beamed at him, and Grogu babbled happily, making grabby hands at them.

Din tossed you one and then the other, and you placed them under the tree.

“You’re right,” you said, admiring it. “Now it’s perfect.”

Grogu twittered his enthusiastic agreement.

You stood, scooping him up in your arms, and plopped down onto the bed next to Din. He scooted over, making space for you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders to draw you close.

You settled in against him, and Grogu found a comfortable spot, nestled snugly between you. Right away, his eyelids started to droop.

Din eased his helmet off, setting it beside him, and pressed his lips to your temple. You sat there together, cozy and warm, watching the tree twinkle brightly and the fire crackle. A light sprinkling of snow was falling outside the frosty window.

“Oh, I almost forgot!”

“Hmm?”

You dug in your pocket, fishing out a little bunch of greenery, and held it up, smiling at Din.

“Your favorite part.”

He looked down at you, his eyes crinkling, the corner of his mouth curling up in a smile. He shook his head, and you wrinkled your brow at him, confused.

“You are my favorite part,” he clarified, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours.

Your face broke into an even wider smile, warmth blooming in your chest. His hand cradled your cheek, guiding your lips up to his. He pressed his lips to yours, and you whimpered, pouting your bottom lip when he pulled away after a quick peck.

Din laughed and picked up the snoozing kid from where he’d fallen asleep between you. He placed him carefully on the bed beside him, then reached for you, pulling you up and onto his lap, so you were straddling his thighs. You linked your hands together behind his neck and leaned in to kiss him—deeply, this time. His warm palms framed your face as he kissed you back—languidly, tenderly—reveling in this perfect, still moment of time, and you sighed softly against his lips, content.

***

everything taglist: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @chattychell @coreychick @dincrypt @djarinlatinlady @feralhotmess @fisforfulcrum @gracie7209 @heavenseed76 @iamskyereads @jasterslegacy @lemonboynsp @lexloon @meanperegrine @mermaidxatxheart @over300books @pentechnics @rebelpitstop @spideysimpossiblegirl @tacticalsparkles @tobealostwanderer @trashbuns @tuskens-mando

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years

Text

The Lesson

After breaking up with your long-term boyfriend, you finally found the courage to enrol at university, studying Modern Theatre. Your life now taking an unexpected detour to its original plan of marriage, babies, settling down. This is going to be an interesting year.

Tag List (message me to be added): @queenshelby @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @margoo0 @cloudofdisney

Warnings - smut / teacher.student relationship

Main Characters - Cillian Murphy (he's 35 and single for the purpose of this fic, no children)

"Hey!!! Over here!!" You heard Sarah, your best friend, shouting from the other side of the hall and made your way over.

"Thank god, I was starting to think I'd gone to the wrong place! This place is huge!!" You laughed as you hugged each other. Your bag slung over your shoulder, you linked arms with Sarah with your other arm as you made your way down to the Lecture Theatre.

"So how are you feeling?" Sarah asked.

"Nervous! I never, in a million years, thought I'd be doing this! I feel so old!" You laughed. At 26, you were easily the oldest student here, but Sarah laughed your worries away.

"Trust me, you're not. Once they revealed who the teacher was going to be this semester, a fair few extra people signed up to do that course y/n!" You looked at her confused.

"What, Mr Allen?? He's about 75 isn't he?" Sarah laughed again and left you at the door to your classroom, making her way to her own Design Studio at the bottom of the corridor to teach her own class.

"You'll see when you get inside!" She called behind her, smiling.

You took your seats near the front of the room, looking behind you you could see a gaggle of ladies in the back corner, all of them easily over the age of 40 with no clear interest at all in the subject at hand. They were all giggling like children.. this was going to be fun, you thought, rolling your eyes. Turning back round, you caught a glimpse of a dark haired man making his way through the door at the back of the room. As he made his way to the desk in the centre of the stage area in front of the students, you couldn't help but gasp a little. Jesus he was cute....

The ladies at the back squealed in delight and the man rolled his eyes.

"Right then, let's make a few things clear from the off shall we folks?" He spoke, his Irish accent booming through the auditorium. Everyone fell silent.

"I have a passion for the arts - I've been involved with them since I was 19. I'm here to teach you all I've learned over the last 16years and I plan on teaching it to like minded, dedicated people. People who want to make a career out of the beauty that is theatre. Those of you here simply to catch a glimpse of anything OTHER than a teacher doing his job, the doors at the back of the room." He stood still, leaning against the desk. The gasp at the back of the room was so loud, you couldn't help but giggle a little. Busted ladies. They all whispered to each other, a few of them glaring in the man's direction as they made their way to the back of the room. Slowly but surely, a few others also left sheepishly, men included, and you couldn't help but notice the man smiling a little underneath his floppy brown hair and round glasses. Who was this man??

"Now that's taken care of, I'm hoping I'm left with students that are here to learn the theatre and nothing else..." He paused, looking round the room. His eyes met yours and he paused for a second, raising his eyebrow slightly. You were now the oldest in the room, and you felt even more out of place. You kept a straight face, and maintained the eye contact with him. He wasn't bullying YOU out of here, you didn't care who he THOUGHT he was.

"Right... Well we'd better get going then!" His demeanour changed, he smiled broadly clapping his hands together. "My name's Cillian Murphy - please for the love of God call me Cillian... Mr Murphy is my Dad and I'm not quite ready for that level of old yet." A few chuckles in the room - that tension was gone. "This isn't the first time I've done a class like this, and I've had to evict people part way through for.. ah.. shall we say inappropriate behaviour. Wanted to nip that in the bud from the offset, so I apologise to you all now for the way the class started. Now, do you all have the textbooks the school sent out last month? Let's start on page 35 shall we?" The class, including you, opened the books in unison to find the chapter on Lighting and Sound. Cillian glanced back over at you, a look of uncertainty on his face. You could feel him staring, but refused to look up at him.

"So how are your classes going y/n?" Your mum walked into your apartment to find you studying, book one side, laptop the other and you making notes in the middle of your desk in the corner of the room. You'd given her a key a month prior so she could let your dog, Juno, out during the day while you were at uni.

"It's hard work! I had no idea there was so much to learn about the theatre, they make it look so easy!!"

Your mum laughed and went to the kitchen to put the kettle on for you both. Kicking back, you allowed yourself a break after 3 hours studying and met your mum at the small breakfast bar.

"I hear you have a new teacher too? Cillian Murphy?"

"Yeah, he's amazing! He's been there and done it all mum, the stories he tells are fascinating!"

"You know who he is, right?" You did know. You'd googled him when you got home after that first lesson. Pretty big hot shot actor, but you weren't bothered. He seemed pretty down to earth and normal to you.

"Yep I know - you'd never think it though, he's so... Normal I guess?"

"Cute too."

"Mother! Behave!" You both giggled. You couldn't deny he was very attractive though - but you could tell he was a professional. No way had he even looked at you that way - in fact you were convinced he thought you were there purely for him, rather than the course, so you were even more determined to pass this semester with flying colours to prove a point.

The following weeks were filled with more information than you could get your head around. You hated to admit it, but you were struggling to keep up. You hated admitting defeat, but you were really starting to wonder if you could carry on at this pace. Your work was starting to slip, and Cillian had noticed it too, much to your dismay. He'd called a 1-2-1 with you this afternoon, and you were convinced he was going to pull you from the course. You knocked on the door of his office, the defeat written all over your face.

"Come in y/n.."

"Hi.." you tried to smile as you sat across from him. He had your latest piece of coursework in front of him on the desk and he was leaning back in the chair, eyeing you through the rims of his round glasses. Standing up, he made his was over to the drinks cabinet in the corner of the room and pulled out a bottle of Irish Whiskey. You watched him, silently, as he put two glasses on the desk.

"Shouldn't be drinking this during the day, but felt the need. Want one?" You smiled, nodding your head.

"Conversation is clearly not going to be a fun one, no?"

"What makes you say that? I'm just lightening the mood y/n, you walked in here looking like you were going to either cry or knock me out!" He laughed, and offered you the glass. You took it, and sat it in your hands. Your fingers connected and you forced down a gasp at the contact. You'd refused to show him any kind of attraction but it was difficult while he was sat so close to you.

"Listen, I know I'm falling behind Cillian, I'll make it up I promise -"

"Stop. It's okay. Yes, your marks are dropping slightly, but not by much, okay? I'm seeing real potential in you. I invited you here to talk to you about some extra classes to help bump you back to where you need to be. What do you say?" He took a sip of the whiskey and so did you. Relief washing through you as the warm liquid fell down your throat. Hopefully it hid the blush in your cheeks.

"Um.. wow... Okay.. yeah! That'd be great, thank you!" He smiled again. God that smile... Stop it y/n.. he's your teacher, stop.. he sat back down at his desk and handed you a book.

"Great! I've put my phone number on the inside cover. Have a read of this, and call me when you're done. I think you'll like it." You took the book and smiled. A history of Modern Theatre. You agreed, definitely an interesting read.

"Is it classed as 'appropriate' for a teacher to give a student his phone number, Cillian?" You smirked, referring to his opening outburst on that first day. He chuckled.

"Maybe not, but I'm not a teacher, I'm an actor helping out the local university for a semester while the actual teacher takes a leave of absence." You'd heard Mr Allen had fallen ill, Cillian was just a temporary stand in for three months. Nothing permanent. "I have a new job starting in January, I'll be done here by Christmas." You couldn't help but feel a bit sad at the thought of him not being around anymore. Without admitting it, you'd looked forward to seeing him every day in class. He stood again, and raised his glass in a toast. You raised yours.

"What are we drinking to?"

"You. We're drinking to you y/n. I'm telling you, I'm seeing some real potential with you - you're going far, just need to focus more on the content, that's all." You blushed again.. was that the reason you were distracted? Him? Maybe. "Meet me back here tonight, around 4:30? Should be done with marking by then, we can make a start?" You agreed, a nervous knot forming in your stomach.

**************************************

You'd been having your 1-2-1 meetings with Cillian for more than a month now, and your marks were certainly improving. You had finished the book he gave you, but you hadn't plucked up the courage to text him yet. Watching TV alone in your apartment one evening, you downed your third glass of wine and picked up your phone. He wouldn't have given you the number if he didn't expect you to use it, come on y/n...

"Hey Cillian? Just letting you know I finished the book. Really good read, thank you! I'll have it back with you in the morning. And thank you for spending time with me helping to improve my marks too, it's really helped. Y/n x" pressing send, you cursed yourself, why the hell did you put a X at the end!!! You cursed again when it was delivered... Then again when its status changed to 'read'... Oh crap... A reply.

"Glad you liked it! It's been a pleasure, you're doing a great job! Cx." He put one on his text too... Come on y/n, you're not a teenager anymore, get a grip of yourself!!! Your phone pinged again.

"Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow xx" 2 kisses? Ping.. "Maybe we can finish more than your coursework.x" What did that mean? Was he flirting with you?

"What did you have in mind? X"

"There's still half a bottle of whiskey in the cupboard, shame to let it go to waste X"

"I don't think you'd be able to keep up with me Cillian 😉" you typed, feeling a bit braver.

"Challenge accepted y/n. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon X" you knew his stint at the university was coming to a close, was he flirting with you?

****************************************

You knocked Cillian's office door at 4:30 sharp, knowing how much of a stickler he was for punctuality. You felt nervous, after your texts last night you didn't know what to expect - was he flirting or were you just overthinking it? The door opened, and he stood aside to welcome you in, a smile on his face as he greeted you.

"Good to see you y/n, come on in!" He walked to the cabinet in the corner. "I never turn down a challenge, you in?" You smiled, nodding, as he poured two glasses.

"Good job I left the car at home this morning," you chuckled as he brought his glass to meet yours. Both of you sinking it down in one, you grimaced as the liquid slipped down your throat and he took the glass from you to pour another.

"We'll take this one a bit slower y/n, what do you say?" His eyes darkened slightly, the alcohol clearly having an effect. You couldn't help the warm feeling running through your groin as he licked his lips to clear them of the whiskey remnants that sat on them.

"Whatever you say sir.." he glanced up at you as you said 'sir', and leaned against the desk.

"Sir? Since when did you call me sir?" He tilted his head back slightly, glass swirling in his hand. You sipped your drink and stood to face him, confidence growing. You could see his attraction towards you, and you decided to go with it.

"Since you decided to try and seduce your student... Sir." He swallowed hard, the game clearly up, watching you take a step towards him. Your bodies inches apart, he brought his hand up to rest on your hip, pulling you that little bit closer.

"Probably shouldn't have put kisses on a text to your teacher, then, should you.."

"Probably shouldn't have given me your phone number then, should you.." the air was hot now, your bodies touching gently, your breathing becoming deeper. You brought your hands to his chest, over his shoulders, and he quickly spun you round so you were now sat on his desk. His lips found yours and he ground his hips against your core, your legs parted allowing him access, skirt hitched up to your waist.

"I've wanted you since that first day... Fuck y/n you're beautiful... Sexy... Smart..." He kissed your neck between each word, breathing becoming hot and heavy. Suddenly stopping, he kissed your lips before making his way to the door, turning the key in the lock, before coming back to finish what you started. Unbuttoning your blouse and opening it, his hand snaked around your breasts, underneath the black lace bra. Groaning slightly, he moved his hands lower, down your abdomen.

"Leave as much on as possible... I'm taking you on this desk, right now.. you okay with that?"

"Like I said sir, I don't know if you'll be able to keep up with me.." your leg pushed him away slightly as you stood up, pushing him against the wall. You sank to your knees, taking his trousers and boxer shorts down with them, his cock springing up, twitching, begging for attention. Gasping, he watched you lick a circle around the swollen head, down the shaft, before taking one of his balls into your mouth and sucking lightly. His hand in your hair now, pulling it gently as he groaned. You continued teasing him with your tongue, before taking the tip of his cock into your mouth, giving it a hard suck, releasing it with a pop, sending his head back against the wall.

"Fuck... Take it y/n.. take it down..." You smiled, before sinking your mouth over his cock, all the way down the back of your throat, groaning into it sending shockwaves through him.

"Lets see how much you can take..." You sucked harder, not giving him time to react. Moving your head quickly up and down his shaft, you felt your core begin to leak, you'd never felt as turned on in your life as you did right now. You felt his legs start to shake...

"Yes.. fuck yes... Feels so good baby... Suck it... Harder.. god fuck yes..." His balls tightened, you could feel him trying to pull back but you held him firm with your hands on his hips, willing him to empty into you. "I'm gonna... You might... Jesus.... Fuck...." He came hard, gripping your hair for support as he came hard, you felt his cum shoot in the back of your throat and swallowed as much as you could, some of it spilling down your chin. You pulled your mouth away, holding your mouth slightly open so he could see his cum on your tongue before swallowing it back down.

"That was... My god... Fuck y/n..."

"Oh you will sir, you definitely will. I'm not done with you yet.." you stood up and sat back on the desk, legs parted again to reveal your core to him, completely bare. He didn't see you remove your underwear while you were sucking him, but he wasn't complaining. Gathering himself, he moved to stand between your legs and pulled your lips to his, kissing you passionately, tasting a little of himself in the process and feeling surprisingly aroused from it. He moved his mouth down to your core, running his tongue along your open slot painfully slowly.

"Cillian... Please... Need to cum...."

"You will, baby, oh you will..." You moved your hands to his soft, floppy hair and pulled his face where you needed it. He loved you taking control and took your clit with his tongue, pressing it, rolling it around his tongue as he felt you begin to shake. You lifted a leg onto the desk to give him better access, and he inserted two fingers inside you, tipping them up to meet your g spot deep inside, emitting a sharp cry from you as you three your head back.

"Yes!!! Oh god yes... Right there... Fuck!!" Your hips were involuntarily rolling against his face now, riding his tongue as he brought you more pleasure than you thought was possible. Within minutes, your orgasm was building, and sensing it, he pumped his fingers harder against that one spot that was making you see stars. Three pumps and you came hard against his face, liquid flowing from you like a waterfall, hitting the floor underneath you as you screamed Cillians name. He leaned back on his ankles, watching you coming undone, smiling. Once you'd caught your breath, your eyes fell onto his his.

"Feeling proud of yourself there Mr Murphy?" You smiled. He stood between your thighs again.

"Extremely. But I'm not done with you yet. Turn around y/n." His blue eyes darker now. Your core throbbed, knowing what was coming. Standing up, turning round, you bent over his desk, his hands parting your legs. Taking a condom from his bag behind him, you heard the packet rip open and you rotated your hips, teasing him. He groaned deeply as he started to push his length into you, inch by inch.

"Ohh... Oh god..." You weren't ready for his size, you legs parting as much as possible. Inch by inch he pushed, allowing you to adjust, before bottoming out, his balls resting near your still throbbing clit.

"I'm gonna fuck you hard against this desk, y/n... You're gonna take every thrust like the good girl you are..." You bucked your hips up and he responded by pulling his cock nearly out, and thrusting back in powerfully enough to make you scream his name. Picking up the pace, he leaned over to grab your hair in his hand, giving it a sharp tug as he thrust into you from behind over and over, relentlessly.

"Harder... Cillian harder!!! Fucking... Oh god yes!!!" Loving the sound of your cries and the feel of your pussy contracting around his cock, he knew you were close to another orgasm.

"Rub yourself... Rub your clit baby, make yourself cum for me..." You reached a hand round to your core and found that bundle of nerves. Circling it hard, your orgasm built up again and you swore you saw stars.

"Good girl.... That's it baby... Let it go, I've got you... Let it go...." That was all you needed to hear. You came hard, and he couldn't hold back once he felt your walls contracting round him. "I'm... Oh y/n yes... Yes!" He stilled, you felt his cock pulsate, filling the condom. Both of you breathless, he fell forwards resting against your back.

He pulled out gently, pulling the condom off and disposing of it in the bin, he chuckled slightly.

"Remind me to empty the bin before we leave... I don't think the cleaner will expect to see that in there in the morning!" You laughed too, standing up to face him.

"That was incredible... Just amazing..." You rested your head against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your hair gently.

"I enjoyed that too y/n.. and I'd really like to see you again, if you'll let me?"

"I'd like that..." You smiled. You'd convinced yourself if anything happened it would probably be a one time thing, I mean he was a famous actor, what would he want with you? You had no illusions going into this.

"My teaching finishes here in 2 weeks - what do you say I take you out for dinner when it's done?"

"Sounds like a plan Cillian. But am I supposed to stay away until then?"

"Definitely not, y/n, we've still got a few 1-2-1 sessions to squeeze in before I leave..." He leaned down to kiss you, pushing you back against the desk again. His erection pressing against your core again. "It would appear I'm able to keep up after all y/n..."

#cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian teacher x you #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian x smut

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godofsexdrugsandrocknroll · 3 years

Note

Kali took Blake's hentai out of her room and is now openly watching it in the living room, with Blake and other people still in the house.

The point where Kali should feel ashamed of what she’d done? Come and past - probably right around the time that the animated wolf faunus with the light gray hair, gray wolf ears and large, equally light gray eyes tried to speak around the length of cock pistoning in her mouth with little regard to the fact that this was the woman’s mouth and not, in fact, the pussy, that the human male was pounding relentlessly with spit flying everywhere.

“Iff shfo glurff muffar!” Indeed.

But truly, who could blame her? After years of dealing with her daughters absence, suddenly having Blake willing to live with them was a new experience and one she probably wasn’t dealing the best with. After all, most mothers wouldn’t dream of snooping the way she did. But for all that Blake Belladonna, one of the eight 24 year old “Heroes of Remnant”, inspired awe and hope in the people of Remnant and even more in the faunus community, well...Kali remembered the little girl who’d once seen a package of fruit snacks with red gummy fish, promptly ripped it open and devoured the bag before rolling on the floor, spitting chunks of the fruity treat while disgustedly proclaiming “cherry flavored!” over and over again.

Charismatic, impassioned leader of the Faunus Civil Rights Coalition or not, there was a distance between mother and daughter created by the latter’s 12 year absence in her mothers life.

They tried of course, but Blake was used to her freedom and Kali was a creature of habit, perpetually uncaring of what many called “the line” but still desperately trying to reconnect with her daughter.

So the fact that Kali scoped out the usual spots for teenage contraband when she cleaned her daughters room really shouldn’t come as a surprise. Ghira certainly hadn’t been when Kali had, giggly as she approached, revealed the contents of a lock box Blake hid under piles of increasingly tiny and intricate undergarments. Granted it was just old photos of them together, a cheap plastic ring with a cartoonish lion heard stretching down to the knuckle and pieces of fabric that smelled of the two of them rather than anything else, but it was the thought that mattered.

She of course neglected to mention to Ghira where she had found it, amidst of a sea of panties, thongs and even a g-string or two. Where she was curious, Ghira would have been ill.

So she’d kept snooping, impressed not just at the collection of underthings her daughter owned (and very amused that her own predilection for the sexier, the better had been passed onto Blake), but at the false bottom that had been discovered and...well, novelty might be the right word for things like the crotchless panties she found there.

Then she’d found other things. A collection of muscle magazines hidden carefully behind a dresser that had seen use judging by the crinkled paper, but not recently given the finger shaped spots on the otherwise dusty covers. Lube carefully stacked behind her books.

A chest full of devices, from dildos to wands to toys and more than a few strap ons. And while Kali was surprised at the amount, she was less so when she remembered that her daughter was in a relationship with a rather...well, the polite term would be ‘generously well endowed’ blonde who was openly vulgar about what the two of them got up to behind doors; when it was just Yang (said blonde) and Blake, in what they thought was the privacy of an empty room.

The collection of nearly three dozen cases advertising Mistralian hentai hidden in a crawl space however had thrown Kali for a loop. And, well, you know what they say about curiosity and cats.

And so Kali stared wide eyed at the covers depicting cutesy anime girls, most of them faunus, in various poses and stages of undress. There was Faunus Fuck Frenzy, vol. 32 - where apparently three faunus best friends were captured in a jungle and fucked into full blown ahegao faces by tribal looking, human natives if the cover was anything to go by.

Watashi no kōkō no tōnamentoāku - a dog faunus with short brown hair, floppy bloodhound ears and breasts the size of beach balls in nothing but a pair of spandex shorts and biceps, abs that were intimidating in their intensity...but was covered forehead to navel in semen, the bodies of unconscious teenage boys and their cocks of varying size left defeated on the ground in the cover’s background.

Others, too. One where the blue haired bluebird faunus was a loli and surrounded by leering men. Another where a golden haired, golden eyed snake faunus had her faunus feature, her exceptionally long forked tongue, wrapped around a penis that was closer to the size of arm and was bulging with veins with her curvaceous body on all fours. A bushy tailed squirrel faunus bound, gagged in a contortionist’s nightmare with the shadow of a grinning man behind her.

By the time Kali saw it - it being what she was watching now, a lonely single faunus mother checking out a sex club while her children were being babysat - it was too late. Blake had arrived with her girlfriend Yang, Kali’s personal assistant, the ex-terrorist Ilia, Yang’s sister Ruby and her not-a-boyfriend Oscar Pine and the blonde, suit clad boyfriend of the Schnee heiress, Jaune Arc.

So Kali had used the kind of speed that made her a popular choice for stealth missions back when she was in the White Fang and put every single case back in the crawlspace and had all but teleported into the living room, smiling and nodding as Blake mentioned that the group was going to go discuss something-something-faunus-something-something-SDC-something-something-if-you’d-make-us-some-dinner-that-would-be-lovely-thank-you-love-you-bye.

Kali’s breathing had returned to normal even if her heart still pounded and she’d pulled Amongst Sheep from behind her back and stared at the lonely MILF, stunned at her daughter’s kinkiness. There’d been exactly 41 films in the crawlspace and aside from the muscular bloodhound faunus who’d apparently fucked her way through at least 11 different teenage boys to claim some sort of victory, each and every cover seemed to depict faunus getting dicked down by human males. Or the occasional female, sometimes simply female and other times with a dick dangling between their thighs. The faunus in question seemed to love it and almost seemed subservient to the ones doing the fucking.

While Kali was amused at her daughters apparent kink especially in light of her place as a faunus rights spokeswoman of great fame, there was a much larger problem. Staring at them all had made her unquestionably horny to the point of wetness. But Blake, her girlfriend and her friends were home. Ghira was in the kitchen just two rooms away, making a large meal for their guests happily after she asked him to do so. There were workers in the back of the house, rebuilding their back wall after Ghira had hip tossed an assassin of the rapidly dwindling White Fang remnants through it last week.

A reasonable, sane woman would have hid it and enjoyed it in the privacy of her own room later that night. Maybe give Ghira a ride while she watched it after convincing him she rented it over the scrollnet for added fun. But the idea of watching it in her living room, a living room that was open to all of the house with no doors, her husband far enough away to know she was watching something but not what and her daughter, her friends only a single floor up? With her room right above the living room?

The disc was in, Kali’s legs were spread after removing her hakama and her modest breasts were exposed to the warm air, her fingers immediately tracing her slick folds.

The plot had gone from 0 to 60 in what seemed like record time (but was probably only 20 minutes or so), the mother surrounded by horny human men while her fellow faunus were in various poses of submission. The mother partaking in the orgy and rapidly spiraling from a stereotypically sweet woman with the kind of body only art could give, to a sex crazed lunatic thanking her “master” for fucking her mouth even as her makeup ran, her dump truck of a rear was being molested by a faceless human behind her and her gargantuan tits bounced from the force of the careless facefucking all while she squealed, even as the humans made crude and rather disparaging remarks about faunus women.

Ghira: [From the kitchen] Enjoying yourself, dear?

Kali’s breath hitched as her fingers pushed in deep and she grinned, curling them as a jolt ran up her spine as the wolf faunus - Lupa, she remembered - squealed once more, her cheeks puffing out like a chipmunks at the deluge of jizz firing impossibly from the human.

Kali: Oh of course, darling! There’s a program about human-faunus interactions that’s just fascinating!

She heard no response but could practically hear her husbands indulgent chuckle. As Lupa now hoarsely begged for the man who’d been fucking her mouth to “shut his stupid dog right back up!” the floor creaked and someone moved around a bit. Kali bit her lip, eyes catching the closed window and the worker carrying tools by. Her left hand had since been massaging her right tit for some time now and she tweaked the brownish nipple on her olive skinned titty, moaning harshly as Lupa suddenly screeched! The man who’d been squeezing her cheeks had pushed her face down into a puddle of spit and spunk and forced himself in an ass that not even she could compete with! She watched as the warbling moans of the anime MILF grew in intensity.

Kali: [Sputtering] And now we’re even getting to see a faunus tribe and how they survived in the Grimmlands!

Ghira: [From the kitchen] That’s nice dear.

Kali: So nice! Really Ghira, you would not believe some of their customs!

Or her own, at this point throwing any concern of being caught out of her mind. The floor had creaked as if someone had tossed themselves on Blake’s bed, likely Blake herself after hashing out a particularly tough point. The thought of Ghira finding her was exciting, of her husband’s disbelief that she’d be so bold. One of the workers? Well, Ghira would likely punish her for giving them such a show but the idea of teasing them so cruelly, knowing that they would remember this for quite some time but never be able to do more than furiously jack their cocks off to the memory of it and just how hard Ghira would give it to her, pushing her face in a pillow as he flattened her exceptional cheeks with his angry downstrokes. Blake and her friends? As a third finger entered her lightly squelching pussy - as Lupa followed an order and lapped up at the puddle as her nearly yoga ball sized cheeks rippled in constant motion - and her palm started slapping against her clit, she squealed at the sudden increase in pleasure.

Blake would be beyond humiliated. At her shameless mother, at her own filthy little secret being discovered by anyone other than perhaps Yang. Not to mention that both Oscar and Jaune would commit this site to their memory banks, perhaps even as their flush faced friends lambasted them for their obvious erections!

The floor creaked more, as if they were moving and Kali twisted her nipple, watching as the MILF on screen started wailing from the anal assault, the man having both hands in her grey hair and pulling her head back. As the animation gave way to the light grey eyes rolling towards her nose as her tongue flopped out, Lupa’s face got steadily redder. In return Kali gasped at the mixture of pleasure and pain coming from her right tit, using her left hand to awkwardly do the same to her left and moaning as a shadow passed the window behind their television.

Ghira: [From the kitchen] Dear? Is something wrong?

Kali couldn’t help it. The thought of being caught was too good, the knowledge that this was what her daughter liked - something so disrespectful, base and diametrically opposed to her own beliefs - and the way she was handling her own body made her let out a louder groan.

Lupa: [Television] “...myself that day, lost the woman who put her children first... to big. Fat. Yummy. Human. COCK!!!! AIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!”

Kali: Oh no, Ghira! Just a quote from another bigot!

Kali’s fingers were now a blur, an eye on the window where no worker stood and an ear on her husbands response, the sound of a load of cum being pumped into an animated faunus whose face showed no signs of intellgence as a faceless human filled her anus with his release, squeezing each asscheek so aggressively he was clearly holding booty fat between his hands.

Ghira: [From the kitchen] You know how it is, freedom of speech. Is it at least handled...

She knew what he meant. Is the documentary at least attacking the negative opinion, showing how wrong it is?

Lupa: [Television] “--aaauuuuuwwwwsho good~” [giggling drunkenly]

She was close. Her heels clunked lightly against the table in front of her couch as she adjusted her legs, opening them wider as she now alternated between full thrusts and thumbing the clit, beneath her thick patch of black pubic hair. The scene changed several times, to Lupa’s ankles and wrists bound as a man pumped her full of cum. Another where a group of university aged humans were busily raining down an amount of cum only possible in hentai as Lupa serviced two cocks, one with her mouth and the other with her hand. A married couple sandwiching Lupa between them with Lupa’s cheeks being squished by the human taking her in doggy, excess ass fat bunching up as Lupa screamed into the man’s wife, her hairy human cunt. Another where Lupa sat on the counter of a sandwhich shop as an older, balding man stood between her legs as her eyes fluttered and the slick sound of her sex, of unexpected squirting. One final scene showing Lupa lying upon her shoulders, legs spread in a perfect split as a muscled man fucked down into her as she screamed “Master!” over and over.

To a final scene where a school bus pulled away and Lupa, in a white turtleneck and nothing more, leaned around a corner and had a warm, motherly smile on her face.

Kali: [Strained] Absolutely, Ghira!

Her palm made heavy clopping noises as she fingerblasted herself to that warm motherly smile staying in place...but only because it had frozen there, drool leaking from the corners of Lupa’s mouth as her eyes were all but rolled back in her skull as a random human steadily slammed into her from behind, the only sounds being the wolf’s cheeks clapping and the wet plap! of semen pouring from her currently-being-fucked pussy.

Human: [Television] Take it all, Ms. Lupa!

And then the abnornal sound of jizz being pumped into the drooling faunus and her dripping pussy, Lupa’s eyes gone pure white as they rolled back into her skull and an overlay of the action inside her happening; a sea of thick white swirling inside her and then a flash of light from an egg indicating pregnancy.

Between the two workers clearly arguing over tools outside their window but clearly not seeing her, being in conversation with Ghira and the threat of being found out, Kali felt it build.

Several things happened at once. Lupa showed up on the screen staring down at a human baby with brown hair and her eyes, before turning away smiling softly. She entered a room where an unfamiliar human sat on her bed, a member that nearly reached his own chest pointing towards the ceiling. Lupa dropped to all fours and fastened a chain to a black leather collar she was wearing, muttering “master” over and over again as she crawled forth.

Kali scraped three fingers against her g-spot and ground her palm against her clit and exploded in release.

Kali: No doubt, it’s marvelously done!

Her pitch considerably higher as she lost her fingers to the repeatedly clenching hole, knees shaking as her orgasm crashed through her like waves upon the beach.

Blake: [Shocked] Mo-ther! [Strangled] No Yang, don’t look!

Ruby: [Stammering] Y-y-y-you either, O-oscar!

Ilia: Why must the world be so cruel!?

Jaune: Mad that another hot cat faunus is taken?

Blake: [Squeals] Jaune!

Ilia: Yes!

Blake: [Squeaks] Ilia!

Yang: I mean, can you blame ‘em? I can see where you got it from, babe.

Blake: [Squeaks, chokes, growls] Stopitstopitstopit!

Jaune: [To Ilia] Same.

Blake: Butwhatno--NO! You have Weiss!

Jaune: Appreciating the view is not cheating.

Ruby: Yes it is!

Jaune: I am happy in my relationship with my fiancée. I will never cheat on my fiancée but I have no control over Blake’s mom fingerbanging herself to...whoa.

Yang: [To Blake] Heh, told you it was a bad idea to keep those here! Ooh, is that Amongst Sheep!? [Respectfully] She’s got good taste.

Oscar: Blake watches hentai?

Ruby: A-ack! Y-y-you saw!? Dammit Oscar!

Ilia: [Fumbling]

Blake: Wha-no-it’snot--

Kali breathed heavily, removing her digits from her pussy and feeling much better and with a glance at her sticky fingers, cleaned them with a quick schlup! of a noise.

Blake: AAAHH! Mother, no!

Kali: [Exhausted] Sorry sweetheart. But that collection of yours, oh my.

Jaune: [To Ruby] Okay, now I’m feeling a little guilty.

Ruby: You should!

Ilia: [Stops fumbling] Collection? She has more?

Blake: Moth--

Kali: Over forty.

Ilia: And they’re all... [gestures]

Kali: Except for one with a female dog faunus.

Yang: That’s mine. [Blake screeches in horror] Blake wanted me to ‘expand my horizons’ or something. I think Blakey just wanted me to be a perv too.

Oscar: Wait. Dog faunus? Watashi no kōkō no tōnamentoāku with Tawni Bumpus as Rei-chan’s seiyuu?

Yang: Heh. Yeah, you’ve seen it?

Ruby: Wha--

Oscar: Have you seen Tawni Bumpus?

Jaune: And now I’m uncomfortable.

Yang: Chow-Chow faunus, right?

Oscar: Yup. She’s -- a-ah... [trails off in embarassment and fear for his life at Ruby’s glare]

Yang: [Snorts] Has an ass that makes the Bellabooty look like Weiss in comparison?

Jaune: [Eyes narrow] I’m letting her know you said that, top heavy.

Yang: [Flinches, irritated] I’m sending you a picture of her. She’s got cake for days, Arc.

Oscar: Well, a-ah, the point is Tawni is very p-pretty [panics] b-b-but not as pretty as Ruby and she really does have a captivating voice.

Jaune: [Staring squintily at Yang, speaks at Oscar] Riii~iight.

Blake: Alright, stop! No more talking about my porn!

Ruby: Ah, so the degenerate admits it!

Ilia: Huh. I mean I can see Yang, maybe. But Blake?

Yang: One, rude. Two, it’s a power dynamic thing. She doesn’t really want to be treated like an animal and collared by humans all the time, but sometimes she’s in the mood and I’ll put on the strap and the things that’llmmmphh!!!

Blake: [Hands on Yang’s mouth, panting, red faced] No. More.

Kali: [Covering her chest back up, crosses legs] Dear, it’s perfectly understandable. You’re a powerful young woman with not just skill unmatched in the sword but your Shadow Clones were key in your final battle with Salem! It’s perfectly understandable wanting to surrender yourself to a strong girl like Yang! You trust her and really, Lupa’s descent into a plaything was as masterfully done as it was--

Blake then ran away screaming, hands over her face and seconds later a door slammed. Yang winces.

Kali: Perhaps that was a bit too much for her.

Ruby: [Eyes narrowed] She just discovered her mom’s a superfreak.

Kali opened her mouth, saw that despite the time passed that both Oscar and Jaune were not looking directly at her and were both at full mast. Ilia was quietly cursing at her scroll phone, which the chameleon had been aiming in her direction prior to making herself decent. Clearly cursing her poor reaction time and missing a photo op.

Kali: Hmm. I suppose that might be a fair assessment.

Ruby: [Angles her body to hide Oscar’s boner] You got problems, lady.

Kali gave a nonchalant shrug, still feeling too good to give 100% to caring.

Jaune: [Claps hands] Well, not that this hasn’t been just a blast, but I think I should go tell Weiss exactly what happened here before somebody [glares at Ruby who glares back] texts her.

Yang: [Scratching her head, staring at the stairs] Heh, you just want Weiss to “punish” you. Never met a guy so ready for a girl standing five foot nothing to take him to poundtown in the Amazon position.

Jaune: [Reddens] Then clearly you have no idea how hot Weiss is when she’s mad.

Yang: [Blinks] Huh. All that time spent around Nora and me’s doing you good, Jaune.

Jaune said nothing and turned away. Oscar was trying to engage a depressed Ilia in conversation while avoiding Ruby’s death glare, the reaper herself irritated at her “not-a-boyfriend” being a pervert. Yang stood contemplating how to handle Blake and Kali just sighed, uncrossing her legs and wincing at the stickiness and the slight sound of it as she stood. As she clapped her hands lightly, intending to try and make this better, it happened. A platter of spaghetti and meatballs hit the floor.

Ghira: What in the garlic-oregano-noodley fuck is going on here!?

The room froze. Kali gave her husband a sheepish little smile, standing with her kimono top done up poorly and missing her hakama pants, shapely legs on display. Ilia had reaimed her phone at Kali’s legs even as Oscar had a hand up to block the view, his other over his stiffy. Yang’s mouth hung open in shock and Jaune had frozen, his own hands dropping to hide evidence of his own hard on. His daughter was conspicuously absent.

The most damning thing was the menu screen on the teleivsion, showing clips of Mistralian hentai that wasn’t exactly kind to faunus. Jaune spoke first.

Jaune: [Urgently] Yeet me out the house Xiao Long and I won’t tell Weiss about the crack you made on her ass!

A flash of white aura protecting the Arc occurred and Yang grabbed him by the arm and threw him through the wall. Ruby grabbed Oscar’s hand at the same time and the two disappeared into a swirl of roses out the same hole, a distant “ouch” being heard as they likely collided with Jaune. Yang was halfway up the stairs and Ilia stood frozen, scroll aimed at Kali’s legs. Ghira glared and Ilia eeped. She glanced at Kali who gave a smirk that was unapologetic and much to Ilia’s dismay, sexy.

Kali: It’s exactly what it looks like, darling. [Purrs] Is my big strong husband going to spank his naughty wife?

Ilia’s scream of terror was muffled as Ghira’s hand clasped around her face and then faded into the distance as she was chucked from the Belladonna household.

Jaune: [Barely audible] Dammit, stop running into me! Respect the healer!

Ilia: [Barely audible groaning]

Ghira: You will explain yourself, wife.

Kali: [Flutters eyelashes, purposely ignores him] Will you promise to spank me if I don’t?

Ghira growled, angry at the situation but knowing he’d get nothing out of her now and with a grunt, threw his laughing wife over his shoulder and stomped grumpily to his room. Really, he loved this woman to pieces but why did she find it so enjoyable to test his every last nerve!? He ignored the frantic sound of what sounded like his daughter opening her secound floor window and muttering something about “not again” and threw his smirking wife on the bed, growling as he ripped his armor, his clothing off.

On the ground floor, a rhino faunus and his crocodile faunus friend gaped at the hole in the front of the house.

Rhino Faunus: Oh, what in the actual shit is this!?

Crocodile Faunus: Rich people, man. Rich people.

#rwby #smut #kali belladonna #ghira belladonna #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #ruby rose #oscar pine #ilia amitola #jaune arc #this is what happens when you let a drunk type #what's crack-a-lackin'#idek #a christmas story

157 notes · View notes

recurring-polynya · 3 years

Note

Oh boy!!! Polynya I have a sudden ferocious hankering for Byakuya and Aizen being viciously passive aggressive to each other. Most of the time you write B he is in the company of his family or his loved ones. So clearly the ultimate way to bring out the knives is an AU in which all the captains are in the same Homeowner's Association. I have no preference for ships; I crave only drama, the pettier the better.

Alopex. Alopex. Why. Why u do this 2 me. You’re my favorite, tho, I cannot refuse you. I hope this is petty enough. I almost made this whole thing an epistolary fanfic that took place over NextDoor, the worst “social media”, but I think it worked better with everyone in person.

Read on ao3 or ff.net

🏠 🏠 🏠

“Gosh darnit, the only K-cups left are apple cider and pumpkin spice!”

“Oh, that can’t be right, I know I filled up the carousel just before the meeting! Retsu! Retsu, honey, we’re out of K-cups, and I bought a whole carton at Costco and I just don’t understand--”

Kuchiki Byakuya glanced up from the presentation materials he was reviewing for the six hundredth time. For starters, Byakuya wasn’t really sure anyone should be letting Hitsugaya Toushirou have coffee in the first place. It was 8p.m., and the child couldn’t be more than twelve. Byakuya had never been very clear on a) why the Seireitei Estates Homeowners’ Association let the child attend the meetings in lieu of his father (or possibly step-father?), a doctor who worked late hours, and b) why a young child would want to attend a Homeowners’ Association meeting anyway, but he had more sense than most of the other board members, so Byakuya didn’t ask questions.

Byakuya also wasn’t sure why they had to have “refreshment breaks.” Breaks were for quitters, in Byakuya’s opinion. Granted, the meeting was being held at Unohana’s house this month, which meant that the baked goods were impeccable, but Unohana’s high-strung wife tended to radiate so much nervous energy that Byakuya worried the woman was going to spontaneously combust.

“Oh, sunflower, I’m sure they just got pushed behind the croquembouche,” Unohana purred reassuringly. “I’ll help you look-- oh, excuse me, Mr. Ichimaru.”

As Unohana pushed past that weaselly shyster Ichimaru Gin, she swung her hips, knocking into him. Approximately thirty K-cups tumbled out of the pockets of Gin’s couture tracksuit.

“Oh, there they are!” Unohana sang innocently.

“How did those get in there?” Gin gasped, as though he were genuinely puzzled.

Byakuya shuddered. Ichimaru worked for the second biggest law firm in town, after, of course, Kuchiki and Sons. Byakuya dreaded the day he might find himself across a negotiation table from the man. Not that harbored any doubts about annihilating that idiot in a contest of the law, he just didn’t like being in the same room with him.

“Here you go, dear,” Unohana said, popping a K-cup into the machine and patting little Toushirou on the head. Toushirou was too busy glaring at Gin to notice.

“That looks like some presentation you’re givin' after the break, eh, Kuchiki?” Ichimaru drawled, selecting a bearclaw from the pastry tray. “Or didja bring home the paperwork from the Tsunayashiro merger?”

Byakuya sniffed and shuffled his papers back into their portfolio. “I approach all areas of my life with the same diligence as I do my professional work.”

“What a coinky-dink! I do, too-- I don’t work hard at anything.”

Byakuya had no interest in frittering away his preparation time to small talk with a moron. “I am going to set up,” he said coolly.

“Good luck!” Ichimaru trilled, giving a saucy little finger wave.

Byakuya returned to Unohana’s sitting room, where he had left his easel and poster board near the hideous faux fireplace with its tacky LED candles.

Aizen was sitting at the cardtable he’d set up at the front of the room, fiddling with his chintzy little gavel. “You look very prepared,” he said, in a tone of voice that was almost as insipid as the oatmeal-marl turtleneck sweater he wore. “Do try not to run too long, though. I’m only the substitute president, you know! I want to run a tight ship, ha ha!”

Byakuya narrowed his eyes. He was still slightly salty that President Yamamoto had felt the need to take a last minute trip on a “Single Seniors Cruise.” Something something about a flash sale and when you’re old you have to take advantage of the time you have left, etcetera, etcetera, but if there were anyone that Byakuya could count on take his side in the matter, it was that antediluvian rule-enforcer. For that matter, Byakuya wasn’t actually sure whether Yamamoto even cared about clipped hedges and shoveled sidewalks or if he just liked yelling at people and slapping them with fines.

Aizen was also a bit of a stickler for the finer points of home maintenance, but the man had no substance to him, with his floppy hair and his chunky knitwear and his horn-rimmed glasses.

“All right, everyone!” Aizen called in his stupid simpering voice. Byakuya had no idea what the man actually did, but Byakuya figured he was a preschool teacher or an art therapist or something equally touchy-feely. “Please take your seats! The next item on our agenda is a presentation on, uh, ‘A Secret But Important Topic, from our neighbor over at number six, let’s give a big hand for...Byakuya!”

“Hold the applause,” Byakuya said sternly, holding up a hand. “I come to you today to call for-- nay, demand the expulsion of one Zaraki Kenpachi from the Board of this Homeowners Association, and possibly also the entire neighborhood, if that’s possible.”

“We can’t kick people out of the neighborhood,” Aizen stage-whispered to him.

“Is he actually a member of the HOA Board?” Kyouraku asked, scratching his shaggy mane. “I’ve never seen him at one of these meetings.”

Byakuya turned to Tousen, the Board treasurer, who had taken his seat at the front table with Aizen and Ichimaru. “Mr. Tousen, did you happen to look into the dues records, as I requested?”

“I did, yes,” Tousen replied. “It turns out that Mr. Zaraki is excused from paying dues. There was a post-it note in President Yamamoto’s handwriting that said,” Tousen made finger quotes, “‘Zaraki fixed my car, excused from dues.’”

Byakuya scowled. “That doesn’t seem… sufficient… it is of no matter.” He grabbed the bed sheet covering his posterboard, and dramatically swept it away. It would have been more dramatic if the bedsheet weren’t covered in Chappy rabbits, but there was no way he was bringing one of his own 800-thread counts into a house that contained cats.

“I have been closely watching Mr. Zaraki’s residence for the last few months, as his rear yard backs to mine, and I believe he may be operating a fight club in his garden on weekends. They do move into the garage if the weather is unpleasant.”

A hush fell over the room, except for Isane and Ukitake Juushirou, who were discussing the merits of blind-baking pie crusts.

“Er, sorry, did I miss something?” Juushirou asked apologetically, after realizing he was the only person talking.

“Kenpachi seems to be running some sort of fight club,” his scruffy husband supplied, looking deeply confused, as usual.

“Goodness!” Juushirou exclaimed. “Are you sure?”

Byakuya cleared his throat. “Allow me to present the evidence I have gathered.” He picked up two large binders, and handed one to Soi Fon in the front row, and the other to Aizen, who immediately passed his, unopened, to Ichimaru. “There are about two dozen disreputable personages who are frequently found loitering about the premises. The first page of the binder indexes each of them by a descriptive nickname, including times I have seen them. Photographic evidence follows.”

“They seem to be washing cars in most of these photos,” Soi Fon pointed out, flipping a page back and forth. Or are they fixing the cars? I can’t tell.”

Komamura craned his head over, curiously. “Wow, is that a ‘73 Stingray? Nice.”

“Yes, they also like to get together to maintain and detail their vehicles,” Byakuya snapped. “Usually at ungodly hours of the morning. I am almost positive that many of those cars do not employ catalytic converters. In any case, it is easier to take pictures of them during the day.”

“Looks like they like to spray each other with hoses, too,” Gin noted, waggling his eyebrows. “Why are there so many pictures of this one guy with the red hair and tattoos? He sure doesn’t like to wear a shirt, does he?” Aizen appeared to be leaning to the side, trying to look at the book out of the corner of his eye.

“My dutiful sister did the photographic surveillance! She is very thorough, and I appreciated the help!” All these questions were knocking Byakuya off his game. He smacked his pointer against the poster. “May I direct your attention to Figure A, a bar chart of traffic on his street vs. hours of the day.”

“Tell us more about the fight club,” Soi Fon interrupted, shoving her binder over to Komamura. “Are there weapons involved, blunted or otherwise? How many people usually show up? Is it held regularly, or do you suspect there’s, say, an email list or something?”

“I think it’s some sort of mixed martial arts,” Byakuya said, rubbing his forehead. “There are often up to a dozen of them, but sometimes it’s as few as three or four.”

“You know, I’m looking through the bylaws,” Aizen said, turning pages in the bylaw binder without actually looking at them, “and I’m not exactly clear on whether fight clubs are actually… you know, forbidden.”

“They’re illegal,” Byakuya bit off.

“Per-haaaps,” Aizen drew out. “But what really constitutes… a ‘fight club,’ am I right? I mean, Dr. Unohana teaches kickboxing classes in her basement studio, is that a fight club?”

“No,” Byakuya replied.

“Exactly, and we wouldn’t want her to be painted with the same brush for just trying to teach other women the arts of self-defense, now would we?”

“It’s not for self-defense,” Unohana clarified.

“Or what about having a bunch of friends over and hitting each other with foam swords while you pretend to be werewolves?” Ichimaru broke in cheerfully. “That’s just our rights as citizens, to pretend to be werewolves in our basements with our friends.”

“It’s a tabletop RPG,” Komamura growled. “I am not a LARPer. There are no weapons. Also, you really do not need to bring it up every single board meeting. It is a perfectly normal adult hobby that I do to spend quality time with my friends.”

“Speaking of which,” Gin turned his binder of pictures around, “isn’t this guy in your group? With the sunglasses?”

“Hmm?” Komamura flipped a few pages. “Oh, huh, yeah, that’s Iba.”

“Surely a good friend of yours wouldn’t have anything to do with an illegal fight club, eh, Mr. Komamura?” Aizen suggested.

Komamura made a non-commital grumble. “I mean, I could ask him if it’s a fight club, if you want me to.”

“I have yet to hear any evidence that supports the existence of this so-called ‘fight club,” Tousen broke in.

“That’s because I keep getting interrupted, I have an audio recording and also some several emergency room admission records--”

“Mr. Zaraki is an upstanding citizen of our town and a devoted father,” Tousen continued. “Are you suggesting that Mr. Zaraki is not a responsible parent?”

“Well, now that you mention it…” Byakuya mused.

“Juushirou, you and Shunsui babysit for little Yachiru all the time, don’t you?” Aizen asked sweetly. “Have you ever seen any evidence that she isn’t the sweetest little girl in the entire world?”

Toushirou raised his hand. “Excuse me? She is a menace, actually?”

“Oh, no, Yachiru is always a ray of sunshine!” Juushirou beamed. “Very active child.”

“Eats a lot,” Kyouraku added.

The edges of Byakuya’s vision were beginning to bleed into red. “We are not talking about the Zaraki child--who, by the way, buried an entire ham in my prize tulip bed--”

“It sounds like you have a grudge against the entire family, Kuchiki,” Aizen replied mildly. “These board meetings are not a venue for airing your petty grievances.”

“You are not even listening! If you would just turn to page--”

“I think you’ve wasted enough of everyone’s time.” Aizen turned his doe eyes to the audience. “Is there anyone here who wants to invest any more energy listening to Byakuya’s vitriol?”

Byakuya looked out over his audience, looking for an ally. Komamura shifted in his seat uncomfortably. The Kyouraku-Ukitakes refused to make eye contact. Unohana was reading a magazine about decorative wreaths. Toushirou raised his hand again with a helpful smile, but no one actually ever cared what he thought.

“Soi Fon, you’re an actual police officer!” he begged.

“It’s just a fight club,” Soi Fon shrugged.

Byakuya was desperate. “Dr. Kurotsuchi?”

Kurotsuchi looked up from his phone. “Eh?”

“Have you been paying attention to any of this?”

“Of course not, I only come for the snacks.”

Byakuya gritted his teeth. “Zaraki is running a fight club and these fools wish us to turn our heads and look the other way.”

“Well, it’s not a very good fight club,” Kurotsuchi agreed. “I’ve been. They don’t allow poisoned weapons and the beverage selection is quotidian at best.”

“You see! You see, right there, Kurotsuchi has even attended! That’s proof that a) it exists and b) it defames the character of the neighborhood!”

“I’m declaring this issue closed,” Aizen replied breezily. “And Kuchiki, I really think you should try to get along better with Kenpachi. You are neighbors, after all.” He brightened. “Oh, I know! We’ve got the community yard sale coming up in June. Why don’t you go ask him if he wants to join the planning committee?”

“Byakuya… will...ask....Zaraki...to chair…the yard sale planning committee,” Gin read aloud as he wrote it into the minutes.

“I agreed to no such thing!” Byakuya howled.

“Onto the next topic!” Aizen chirped. “Trash pickup happens every Friday at 7am and a few of our neighbors have been leaving their bins out as late as noon.”

Later, after the meeting, as Byakuya was packing up his binders and his posterboard, Aizen walked up to him, munching on a rhubarb scone. “Really nice presentation, Byakuya. Good fonts, well cited, you obviously put a ton of work into it. Also, that Zaraki is a blight on the neighborhood. Ideally, he would be thrown in prison.”

Byakuya stared at Vice-Presiden Aizen, mouth agape. “Then why did you and your cronies ruin my presentation and shut me down at every turn?”

Aizen’s eyes narrowed. His mouth curved into a cold smile. Light glinted off his glasses. “You dared to usurp my rightful place as the winner of the Spring Spirit Most Beautiful Yard competition.”

Byakuya blinked at him blankly. “You cared about that? A man’s lawn is his pride. I keep my yard beautiful as a matter of principle, not for some silly competition.”

“You pay for a lawn service. You shouldn’t have even been eligible.”

Byakuya didn’t even recall entering, he’d just received a letter that he’d won, and a festive yard sign appeared next to his front walk, which he had immediately removed and thrown in the garbage. “The prize was a gift certificate to a miserable chain restaurant. I would give it to you, except that I already gave it to my sister to go out with her hooligan friends. They are perpetually short on funds. I could get you another one, I suppose. The amount was paltry enough, although I was given to understand that the place offers ‘unlimited breadsticks’.”

“It’s too late for that,” Aizen declared. “You have made a powerful enemy. You will feel my revenge in a thousand cuts.”

Byakuya wondered how much of a hassle it would be to just move. He’d heard there were some nice houses over in Karakura Acres.

~end

Shinigami’s Cup: GOLDEN!

“Do you think it would help if I infiltrated the fight club?”

“I appreciate your zeal, Sister, but, no, I do not think it would help.”

“Because I think I might have an in. I feel like I would be really good at going undercover. I could wear a body mic.”

“Rukia, you know I have the utmost faith in you, but are not even five feet tall. I do not, in any way, see how you could realistically ingratiate yourself to an organization populated by large, lumpy men whose raison d’etre is to clobber each other in the face.”

“I have cat-like reflexes! I am really good at dodging and weaving!”

“Rukia.”

“And I’ve been watching a lot of YouTube videos about muscle cars. Go on, ask me something about Dodge Chargers!”

“Rukia.”

“I even ripped the sleeves of an old t-shirt, I look super tough in it. Please, Byakuya, please can I?”

“All right, fine. But do not drink any alcoholic beverages that have ‘light’ or ‘ice’ in the title. It is against our pride as Kuchiki.”

“Thank you Brother, you’re the best!!”

#my writing #wacky au requests #is this...the first time i have written aizen?#wait i wrote some aizen in a flashback scene of a little in love #i do not write very much aizen #it was...kinda fun #the man is petty as hell and i am here for it

16 notes · View notes

storytellingfandom · 4 years

Text

Calculators and Key Changes

Summary: Kazami blew into Republic City High like a hurricane. The students loved her, she changed how the arts program was run and rose it out of the ashes. She got along with most all of the staff, that is, except for one.

Lin would give her props for saving the arts program, but that’s as far as it went. The failed opera singer was obviously looking for what she’d see as an “easy” gig to get her back in the papers and then abandon her students. And she wasn’t going to offer praise for a one trick pony.

But when things shift, when there’s an understanding, can their students push the two titans of the school together to find their own happiness?

A/N: This is a completely self indulgent high school AU. I tried to write it in second person POV, but it didn’t flow well so it is third person with it being Lin x OC. Many props go to @kuvirasbrat for helping me get this shaped though <3

Wordcount: 21,685

Homecoming season at Republic City High meant many things. Mostly, it meant spirit days where both students and teachers made fools of themselves attempting to meet the day’s theme. Today was easy enough, it was a “Going to the Beach!” motif. Kazami dug around in her closet until she finally found the floppy hat that she’d been gifted one year. Putting it on her head, she checked her outfit in the mirror. She’d chosen a bright blue tank top that highlighted her eyes, the straps of swimsuit could be seen just enough. Over it, she wore her black, floral, kimono style cardigan over it to cover herself. Itw as one of her favorites that fell a bit long on her form. Her dark skinny jeans were on point for those trips and she finally slipped into her old sandals to finish it off. Making sure she had her large sunglasses as well, her high ponytail made the hat uncomfortable but it could be fixed at school. She was already running late.

Running out to her car, she’d have to skip the coffee this morning, but Lin had been surprising her with a coffee on her desk lately. She really needed to remember to thank her properly for that, maybe with some homemade scones.

Thanks to a dicey streetlight call, really it was yellow and why would you have them there if not to get people through, she made it on time. Opening the choir room door, she moved to throw her purse in the desk drawer again and smiled when she saw not only the coffee but a croissant sitting on her desk as well.

“Lin Beifong you are a mind reader.” Kazami murmured as she sat back with both the coffee and the pastry. Tossing the hat on the desk for now, she enjoyed the quiet that had enveloped her.

Finishing the croissant, she got up and opened her classroom doors to let in her students. Parking her sunglasses on the top of her head, she smiled and complimented her students as they filed in with their own beach gear. Bolin of course outdid them all with his old time full body swimsuit and inflatable rubber duck.

Sipping the coffee a little bit more, hoping for the caffeine to kick in, she walked over to the piano. “Alright, shall we--”

“Ms. Ikeda, isn’t that Ms. Beifong’s handwriting on your cup?” Asami asked, taking her normal spot next to the piano.

“I don’t know Miss Sato, perhaps you’d like to take it down to her and see for yourself?” Kazami raised a brow, fingers pressing into the keys. “And while you’re at it, perhaps you can pass along Korra’s sweatshirt to her.”

Asami blushed but immediately backed down from the teasing question. Smirking at the student, the older woman threw a hand up and started into their warm ups.

******

Lin wasn’t the most fond of homecoming, or spirit week. The themes were ridiculous and she was not one to enjoy making a fool of herself. Today’s wasn’t so bad though, she supposed. Slipping into the school, she wore a pair of jeans she had cuffed to her ankles and belted to better fit her waist. Tucked into those pants was a dark green tank top covered by an open, white cotton button down shirt that she had rolled to her elbows. Donning a pair of sneakers, she made quick strides to her classroom to see if the surprise coffee would be there again.

Flicking the lights on, she smiled when indeed, it was. Grabbing the cup, she smiled when she saw the little message on the cup.

See you for lunch duty! Enjoy!

Grabbing the cup, she sipped it and hummed at the taste of her coffee. Grabbing the graded tests from her bag, she sat in her chair and took some time with her coffee. She ought to find out what Kazami’s coffee order is and surprise her with some. She was sure Kya knew it, the two had gone for coffee with Izumi. Or maybe one of the kids would know. Asami would tell her without too much guff.

Reaching for her pen, other things that needed to be graded sat on her desk calling to her. Starting in on those she contemplated the choir director. The woman seemed to be genuine in all of her interactions, she ought to look up a video of her performing one of these days. The more she talked to her, the more curious she had become.

At first, interactions stuck to the lunch room. Cordial comments slowly became banter. Banter became conversations and observations of students. From there it began to move out of the lunch room. It began with little moments of poking their heads in during each other’s office hours, walking each other out at the end of the day, and coordinating to stand around at things together. They bonded over a shared love of enjoyment of obscure books that made them think, and trashy romance novels that made them laugh, old time movies, the fact that neither could stand Raiko as principal but weren’t about to leave their students to him, and the fact that coffee was the superior drink only next to a good aged red wine.

Humming to herself, she looked up when a knock sounded through her office and she saw Mako standing there. “Hey kid, come on in.”

“Hi chief, I was wondering if I could get you to explain this again. I’m not getting it.” Mako said, stepping into the room and set his bag down.

“Sure, You have your book?” Lin asked, reaching for her glasses. The homework could wait a little longer. “Alright, show me where you’re getting lost.”

********

When Lin strode into the cafeteria, she smirked when she saw Kazami, this time wearing her hat, and her large sunglasses on her face.

“Now that’s a look.” Lin commented, chuckling slightly at the indignant look Kazami threw back at her.

“I will have you know I am a peak fashion icon amongst the other teachers. Besides, you need one of these hats worse than I do.” Kazami pointed out, reaching up to pull the sunglasses off for now.

There they were, there were those damn eyes that seemed to lure her in. “If you say so. At least we don’t have kids coming in just their swimsuits.”

“You must not have had Bolin in your class yet.”

“...please don’t tell me…”

“Oh yes, complete with an inflated rubber duck. The good news is that it’s an older suit so he’s covered.”

“Spirits give me strength.”

Kazami lost it then, laughing at the horrified look on Lin’s face. A hand reached out to rest on Lin’s toned armed and the grey haired woman smiled at the other.

“Glad you find it so hilarious.” Lin rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.

“The look on your face is priceless! Oh, I wish I’d had my camera.” Kazami wiped the corner of her eyes from the tears that had formed. “Your outfit is great though, I meant to tell you. The green does great things for your eyes.”

Lin felt a blush cross her cheeks, and murmured a quiet thanks to the other as they kept one eye on their students. “Speaking of this homecoming crap, are you going to the big game tonight?”

“I don’t know, are you?” Kazami asked, looking over at her. “They’re not really my thing normally but if you’re going and want some company I’d show up.”

“You don’t have to, a couple of the kids in my class asked me to go tonight. I can go on my own though.” Lin shrugged, she’d done it often enough. But a part of her really hoped that she’d go.

“No, I’d like to go. I can support the band students, a couple of them are in my choir classes as well, and besides, someone has to make sure you don’t get too grumpy.” Kazami teased, nudging her. Digging her granola bar out of her pocket, she handed half to Lin with a small smile.

Returning the gesture, Lin took the granola bar offered to her and bit into it. It’d become their tradition. One would bring a bar to eat and they’d split it. Hers tended to be nut and fruit based with either chocolate or peanut butter drizzled on it. Lin’s tended to be more protein based, but found herself leaning towards ones that were a little sweeter as they started to share more lunch duties together.

“Do you want to meet at the school tonight?” Lin asked, finishing a bite of the granola bar.

“Actually, do you want to meet somewhere? We could grab pizza then head over.” Kazami offered, moving to toss the wrapper for the bar in the trash. “Besides, trying to find anyone at those games is impossible.”

Lin blinked and felt her heart rate pick up. It wasn’t a date. Was it? No, surely she wouldn’t just drop it that simply if it was. Would she? Shit, now she was taking too long to reply.

“Sure, that sounds great.”

“Great! I’ll shoot you an email this afternoon with my number. I definitely want to go home and change into something a bit warmer to sit out in the evening air in.” Kazami beamed at Lin.

“Here, I have my phone with me.” Lin answered, digging into her pocket for it. Handing it over, she let Kazami put her number in and watched as she called herself.

“There, that’s perfect.” Hearing the bell sound, Kazami smiled at Lin. Reaching up, she took her hat and put it on Lin’s head and chuckled at the look. “I’ll text you the place. Enjoy the hat.”

*********

“Did you see that?!” Bolin asked, practically bouncing in his seat.

“Ikeda definitely gave her number to Beifong!” Korra grinned as the group stood to head to class.

“I wonder if they’re going on a date tonight.”

“I doubt it, Beifong promised to be at the game tonight.”

“It’s the weekend, idiot. They could still go out.”

“Oh my-- she gave her the hat!”

“Everything is going according to plan.”

“We’ll have to plan our next moves carefully though.”

“This ship will sail before the end of the year.”

*********

Spirits, what had she been thinking? Kazami sighed and rubbed her face. They were just going to pizza as colleagues, newly found friends. Right? Sure, Lin was attractive, there was no denying that. You’d be stupid not to acknowledge it. She also had a wicked sense of humor when you dug around for it. And apparently a sweet side. But it wasn’t a date. Was it?

Well, fuck.

“Just keep it casual.” Kazami muttered to herself.

Keeping the same dark wash skinny jeans, she pulled on one of the black t-shirts she had in her closet with the gold “Republic City High Choir” printed on it in a not completely terrible cursive font. On the back of it she had “Director” printed. Most of the other kids with this one had their section. It was a whole thing last year. Throwing a dark cardigan over it, she slipped into ankle boots before finally releasing her hair from it’s high ponytail. Running fingers through it, she enjoyed the soft waves that she managed to tease out of it and shook it out. Grabbing a blanket from one of the hall closets, the weather had said it was going to be one of the colder nights tonight, she headed out to her car.

Lin waited outside of the pizza shot, leaning against the old brick easily. She’d kept the jeans and sneakers on, and she also kept the green tank top, but had pulled on a warmer sweater over it. Seeing Kazami’s car pull up behind hers, she smiled and pushed away from the building before walking to her car to open the door for her.

“Why thank you, my good lady.” Kazami smiled and stepped out of the car.

“I haven’t seen that one.” Lin said, pointing at her shirt.

“They were for a trip we took last year.” Kazami answered, leading the way over to the building.

********

Eating pizza, Kazami learned that Lin preferred her pizza spicy if possible and was a meat eater. She also would pair it with a lighter beer, that was unexpected, but fascinated Kazami. She preferred a pizza slice covered in vegetables, and if that wasn’t available, just a simple cheesy slice would always do the trick as well. Following Lin’s example with the beer, the two grabbed a table and dug into their food. Kazami insisted on buying dinner since it was her idea in the first place.

The topics remained light, after all, they’d be heading out soon for the game. Questions about lessons, when the next concert was and if Kazami needed some help with setting up the choir shell, how the math team was going and were they thinking about cooperating with the new engineering team that met up after school.

Finishing their dinner, they stood from the table and walked back to their cars.

“Why don’t you ride with me over? We can come back for your car once the game is over.” Lin offered when Kazami had headed for her own vehicle.

“That’s not a bad idea, let me just grab the blanket I threw in here for tonight.” Kazami agreed, pulling the door of her car open to grab it.

Hurrying over to Lin again, she climbed into the car and settled in it. She wasn’t surprised at all with how clean the inside of Lin’s car was. Everything was pristine. Enjoying the subtle eucalyptus and lavender smell she’d picked for it, Kazami settled and held the blanket close to herself.

“So do you go to this game every year?” Kazami asked, looking over at her.

“Almost. Usually have a student or two that asks me to go and support them.” Lin shrugged, easily easing them into traffic.

The radio played something quietly, a soft jazz if Kazami was picking it up right. Enjoying the easy quiet between them, she hummed along with the different instruments until they pulled into the parking lot.

********

Kazami had no idea what was going on while watching the game. All she knew was that she was cheering when Lin did, leaning over when she tried to explain things. She ended up with the band around half time, chuckling and speaking with the band director, hugging her kids that were also in choir.

The green eyed woman watched Kazami and felt herself smiling. The woman had no idea what was going on with the game but supported the students all the same. She made sure to see her students who played in the band, in her element and talking about the music that would be played for the halftime production. But she also made sure to get back to Lin before being gone too long.

“How’re they holding up?” Lin asked looking over at her.

“They’re great! The show is going to be great, I’ve seen them rehearse a couple of times.” Kazami answered, plopping down in her spot.

“I was going to go down to see my students, they’ve got the longer half time with the whole court thing. You mind if I go down there?” Lin asked, pulling her jacket closer to herself.

“Not at all, I think I’ll get us some tea actually. I’ve got a stash back in my classroom, and some honey. You want some?” Kazami asked, offering Lin a smile.

“That would be great, if you have jasmine I’d take some of that.” Lin answered, moving to stand.

“I do, and I’ll meet you back here.” Kazami answered , leaving her blanket to save their spots.

Tucked away in her classroom, she hummed to herself, filling her kettle and turned it on. Digging around in her cupboards, she managed to come up with two mugs. Dropping tea bags into them, she waited until the water boiled before pouring it in. Squeezing some honey in, she grabbed both of them before making her way back to the stadium.

Kazami made it back to their spot first and huddled on the bench. Smiling, she watched Lin talk with a couple of the kids before wrapping the blanket around herself. Setting Lin’s tea down, she brought hers up, holding it between both hands and took in the warm chai smells before taking her first sip.

When Lin returned to the bleachers, she took the tea herself and held it with a relieved sound. “Spirits it’s getting cold out.”

“There’s a reason I brought this along.” Kazami pointed out, watching Lin a moment before offering her one end of the blanket. “Come on, it’s warmer under here.”

Lin hesitated a moment before scooting closer and took the other side of the blanket. Their sides pressed together, it really was warmer. Her heart thudded gently as Azami’s light floral perfume hit her nose.

“You trust me?” Lin asked suddenly, looking over at Azami.

“Well that question worries me, but yes.” Azami answered, a confused look crossing her features.

“Come on.” Lin said, standing and reached to help her up.

********

Leading her through old staircases and up the older side of the building, Lin finally pushed a door open and led Kazami out onto the roof. The sun was going down, deep reds and pinks streaked across the golden sky as dark purples began to poke through as well.

“Lin...this spot is incredible.” Kazami said, turning to look at her.

“I used to come out here with Aang, back when I was their age.” Lin answered, coming to join her. Sitting down, Lin let her legs dangle off the edge, a hand reaching up to help Kazami down to sit next to her.

“I always forget you knew and grew up with that family.” Kazami said, settling next to Lin and offered her the blanket again.

They sat in companionable silence for some time, drinking their team and watching as the sky began to transition from the warm day into what appeared to be a cool night. Watching the kids, Kazami fell into the trap that sitting on a roof seemed to hold for people. She began to confess.

“I never wanted any of this you know.” Kazami murmured, staring out at the sky.

Lin frowned and turned to the other woman. “What?”

“I never wanted to be an opera singer. I enjoyed music, and singing, but I never wanted to spend my life doing that.” Kazami murmured, setting her mug aside, she pulled the blanket closer and sighed softly. “My mother wanted to go into it, but she didn’t have the voice for it. My grandmother sang and it was just...expected. When she found out I could sing...I was forced into lessons when I was five. I wasn’t allowed to go out often because I had lessons.”

“You were just a kid though.”

“And my mother didn’t care.” Kazami answered, a shrug coming from her. “I didn’t have siblings, and my father locked himself in his study. When I wanted to go outside and play, or attend things like prom instead of a recital, I was guilt tripped. How could I not accept this, after all the effort she put into this. By the time I was old enough to realize it, I was trapped. I was signed up with a company. Hiding who I was because opera singers have doting husbands. They let their male counterparts woo them and their managers walk on them.”

A hand reached over for Kazami’s slender one. Lin squeezed her fingers between her own. “What did you want?”

Smiling, she leaned into Lin and sighed gently. “I wanted to own a bookshop. I would fill it with trinkets and maps from all over after I traveled. A safe space for all, with a little bakery.”

“I can see you in that, exactly like that.” Lin murmured, moving to lean her head against Kazami’s. “Why’d you go into teaching? Why not open your shop?”

“Being in the professional world...I saw so many kids like me. Trapped in a world of music that they didn’t want. That didn’t want them as they were. I wanted to give them that safe space. To be themselves, to love music, to give them the option to go into it long term, or just have a place where they could sing and have a break from other classes. As much as I wanted that shop I wanted to also help those kids.” Kazami answered, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the warmth and the comfort the other woman offered. “I didn’t want kids to break down like I did. To fall so deep into their own darkness to the point that they hated their craft.”

Lin had heard about the breakdown. About how Kazami had simply stopped in the middle of a production, walked off the stage, and closed the door on the auditorium. Her mother had publicly announced Kazami was dead to her. Disowned and written out when Kazami confirmed she was gay. She’d heard her talking to kids about the depression she’d suffered where she hadn’t been able to get out of bed. How confused she’d been about her own identity away from music. Who was she if she wasn’t an opera singer? And yet, here Lin sat with a woman who bent over backwards for her students and her friends. Who tried to do so much for everyone and be there for anyone that needed her.

And Lin understood so much of that story.

“You know who my mother is. Everyone does. She was a single mom raising us and I get that she was busy. My sister and I both understood it. The only difference is that nothing I did was ever enough. I was valedictorian, I was captain of our sports team, I went straight into college.” Lin murmured and sighed, shaking her head. “Suyin was the one that skipped school. Did anything that she could to get attention.”

“Well, good to know some things haven’t changed.” Azami said, before she could realize it. Suyin had started at the school around the same time she had. Needless to say, while she tried to be polite, she really wasn’t too fond of Suyin. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“No, you’re definitely right.” Lin said, a bitter chuckle escaped from her. “I was dropping something off at school and caught Suyin trying to skip class and smoke spirits knows what. Tried to go after her and catch her but she threw a branch or some piece of metal she’d been holding, I didn’t pay too much attention to it, but it happened so fast and it sliced into my face. Mom took me to the hospital, nothing was written into Su’s file, she was sent to the grandparents who spoiled her. Mom quit at the end of the year. Neither one ever mentioned the event. I haven’t spoken properly to them since.”

She waited for Kazami to turn to her, to tell her that she should make things right with her family. That she should just forgive them at this point. But she didn’t. Instead, Kazami squeezed her hands and interlaced their fingers together. Instead of a pitying look, she offered her one of understanding and acceptance.

“Well, you’re not on your own anymore.”

The statement hung in the air, whether she meant it as friends, or something more, neither of them knew, but in that moment, as the game ended and they stayed up on the roof to continue to bear their souls to one another. Laughing quietly, huddling together, as the thread of the universe began to tie their fates together in a neat bow.

#lin beifong #lin beifong x oc #lin beifong/oc #legend of korra fanfic #lok fanfiction #lin beifong fanfiction #calculators and key changes

46 notes · View notes

kimtanathegeek · 4 years

Text

Two Brothers, Many Paths - Ch 25 & Undertale 5yr Anniversary

Two brothers, many paths

Hand in hand, they mourn their past

Torn from home,

trapped underground

Hiding, fleeing,

scared to be found

Two brothers, many paths

Side by side, they grew up fast

The eldest grins.

“We’ll be fine, brother.

No matter what,

we have each other.”

Two brothers, many paths

Hand in hand, they’ll always last

---

To commemorate Undertale's 5th year anniversary and the 25th chapter of "Two Brothers, Many Paths", I drew and wrote this. Art and poetry are not my strong suit, and I wish I could have done that picture justice, but I hope you guys like it! :)

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, UNDERTALE! Here's to another 5 awesome years!

Guys, thank you so much for reading "Two Brothers, Many Paths"! I can't believe we're at 25 chapters already!!!

Thank you for reading, for your likes, for your comments, and for your reblogs! It means so much to me to know that you guys are enjoying my story, because I absolutely adore writing it.

There's still so much more to go for Sans and Papyrus, so don't worry, we're not even CLOSE to coming to the end!

Thanks again, I appreciate you all! :)

—

Undertale copyright Toby Fox

Story and original characters by me, Kimtana

Please do not use without both permission and credit.

Read below, or read it on AO3 here.

First

The thin hen shopkeeper was sitting behind the counter, knitting and humming as Sans approached. When she saw him from the corner of her eye, she laid her work on the counter and smiled at him.

“Good afternoon,” she said warmly, then furrowed her brow, raising her index primary feather to the side of her beak as she looked up into space. “Or is it ‘good evening’? Hmm....” She shook her head, then gave a shudder, ruffling her sooty grey feathers. “I don’t know, it’s so hard to tell time anymore without the sun.... Anywho—Good day!”

Sans grinned, nodding to her. “Good day, miss.”

“Is there anything I can help you find?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Oh, no,” he answered. “I’m just looking to see what you have.”

She gave a gentle smile. “Ok, then. Please let me know if there’s anything I can help you with.”

Sans nodded politely again, and looked up at the shelves on the left of the shop.

There were so many different kinds of things—some items similar to those found in the other shops, and other products he had not seen sold elsewhere in the market. There were beautifully crafted pottery cups, vases, bowls, plates, and teacups, medicinal salves and bandages, candles of various heights and thicknesses, aprons for different needs, tin boxes with and without illustrations on them, gloves for work and for warmth, and so many other items in between. He picked out a small pot holder—they’d need one now that they finally had a pot—and a bar of glycerin soap that smelled of cherries.

In front of the counter were four crates sitting on two large chests. The crates were filled with old books, sheets of parchment made of wood pulp, fabric fibers, or flower petals, and scrolls with useful information such as measurement conversions for cooking, identification of edible and poisonous plants, and even lists of difficult words with their definitions.

Seeing the paper reminded Sans of the bits of parchment he had been aching to use.

“Excuse me, miss,” he said, standing up straight to look over the counter.

The hen stood up, her knitting still in her wings. “Yes, dear?”

Sans saw that she was making a multicolored sock. “Ooh, that’s really good!”

She smiled. “Aww, thank you. I knit things for the orphans, the poor, and the wounded soldiers.”

Sans’ mouth dropped in awe. “That’s really nice of you to do that. I’m sure they love them.”

“I hope they do,” she said, her smile waning as she looked down at the half-finished sock. “It’s not much, and they’ve already gone through such incredible hardships.” The grip on her needles tightened, and she gave another shudder that fluffed her feathers. “I just try to help where I can, make things useful like socks and gloves for those who don’t have any. It can’t make up for their pain, but hopefully it brightens their moment. Even if it’s just a little bit.”

Sans smiled reassuringly. “I’m sure it does, miss. It lets them know that someone really cares about them.”

The thin hen smiled at the sock, then at Sans. “Thank you, that’s really kind of you to say. Sorry, you had a question?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sans answered, blinking. “I was wondering, do you have any pens or writing utensils?”

She frowned sadly. “I’m afraid not.... They go rather quickly, and they’re hard to get. All of my stock comes from other monsters who are selling me items they’ve made, no longer need, or need gold for more important things, like food. So I never know what I’ll get or when I’ll get new things. I’m sorry.”

Sans’ mouth twitched with disappointment, but he understood. “It’s all right. I’ll keep checking each time I come by.”

“I’ll certainly keep an eye out for you, and I’ll hold any aside I come across.”

Sans nodded in gratitude. “Thank you, miss, that’s so kind of you. I really appreciate that.”

“Let me know if there’s anything else you need help with, dear,” she said, smiling as she sat back down, resuming her knitting.

“Actually,” Sans said as he watched her count stitches. “This is a strange question, but.... The hare next door mentioned that there were monsters who collected food for the poor. If I had some food to give them, where would I find them?”

The hen smiled, her heart warming. “Well, aren’t you a dear. You’ll find the monsters who work on the food collections in the domed building in the northeast quadrant of the city.”

Sans looked at her blankly. “Northeast wha?”

She covered her beak with her wing as she laughed softly. “It’s the only domed building in the city.”

Sans looked relieved. “Ah! Yes, miss, I’ve seen it. I should be able to find it now, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she nodded. “I know that they will appreciate anything you can give them.”

Sans smiled sadly. “I know what it’s like to not have enough to eat, so if I can help anyone, I really want to try.”

The hen’s face fell, her heart breaking for the little skeleton at his admission.

“You’re an absolute sweetheart, you know that?” the hen said softly.

Sans felt the embarrassment burning his cheekbones. “Nah, I just...hate seeing anyone hurting.”

He pretended to be extremely interested in the hand towels folded up in a crate on the floor, as the hen beamed at him, then returned to her knitting, humming happily.

Once her gaze was off him, Sans started looking through the rest of the items, making his way towards the right side of the shop. There were clothes on shelves and tables starting near the entryway for adults, and children clothes towards the middle. He found a couple sets for himself and Papyrus in their sizes, ecstatic that he and his brother could finally change out of the clothes they had been wearing since they fled to the mountain.

At the end of the children’s clothes were toys. There were wooden blocks, plush monsters of different species, puzzles, balls, and other various playthings. Sans was looking at a small, red toy cart with working wheels, wondering if Papyrus would like it when he noticed the basket at the end of the toy shelves. The toy cart fell out of his hand onto the table as he gasped.

The basket was filled with teddy bears—all identical. They had soft, plush, brown “fur” and shiny black eyes. Their little smiles were stitched into their faces with dark brown thread, and their arms and legs were floppy, perfect for hugging.

Sans staggered to the basket, tears rolling down his face, his mouth hung open.

“I-it can’t be...,” he whispered in shock.

The hen heard him, and raised her eyes from her work to look over at him.

Sans pulled out one of the bears and looked at it, turning it this way and that in his hands.

“Are...are you all right...?” the hen asked gently, seeing Sans’ tear-soaked face.

Sans stared at the bear in his hands, looking into its eyes as he spoke, his voice shaking with emotion.

“M-my brother.... He had a teddy bear just like this...back home.... He loved that bear, couldn’t sleep without him in his crib.... When...when I packed food to leave...I-I should have...I should have gone upstairs and gotten him.... But I didn’t.... I was too scared, I only grabbed food, I didn’t even think about his bear.... We left him behind, and now.... My brother never complained or mentions him, but I know he misses him a lot.... My brother lost so much that day.... Our home...his teddy bear...Mommy....”

Sans hugged the bear and wept bitterly into it. The hen tossed her knitting on the counter and rushed over to him. He clutched her, weeping into her dress as she enfolded him in her wings. She held him as he cried his eyes out, telling her how he watched their mother fighting the humans, and how he watched her die. How she might still be alive if she hadn’t seen him and run to him. How it was his fault his brother didn’t have their mother any more.

She let him speak until his words were exhausted, then shushed him soothingly, rocking him gently as he cried loudly from his broken soul. It had been too long since Sans had been comforted like this by an adult, too long since he had taken on the adult role for his brother’s sake while still only being a child himself. Being embraced by the caring hen allowed him to drop the walls of false strength and competence he had built up over time, and to grieve like the hurting child he truly was.

After a while, he calmed down, sniffling and stammering out apologies for breaking down like that.

“No, no,” she whispered, wiping his eyes with her pinion feathers. “Don’t apologize. I know how hard it is to lose someone you love so very much.”

“R-really...?” he whimpered, his lower lip still quivering. “Did...did you...?”

He didn’t finish, regretting even asking such an invasive, personal question.

The hen shut her eyes and nodded.

“I was with my best friend at the market buying food for dinner. The Royal Guard came—tried to get everyone to leave quickly. There had been a horde of humans spotted in the area, and it was unsafe. Someone shouted and soon everyone was looking into the sky. Plumes of smoke, rising in different directions—multiple fires all around the area. I panicked—one of the columns of smoke was coming from where my house was. My friend and I, we rushed to my house with a few of the Guards, and....”

She choked back her tears, her body shuddering as her feathers bristled. Then her tears fell freely.

“My house was in flames.... My friend had to hold me back because I tried to run inside to save my family. The Guards—they went in. They went in to try to find my dear husband and my four precious children.... Wh-when they came out, I-I saw their faces, and I knew.... The next day, the evacuation order came out. My friend—she let me stay with her that terrible night, and then we left together for this mountain.... And now, we’re here....”

Sans looked up at her, his face broken with sympathy for the poor hen. When she finished her story, he hugged her tightly.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so, so sorry....”

She patted him with her wingtips, then dried her eyes on her feathers.

“Thank you,” she said, straining to steady her voice. “This war...this conflict...it has cost us all so much....”

They hugged each other tightly once more. Then the hen pulled back and put on a warm smile. She nudged the teddy bear, still in Sans’ hands.

“The important thing is to rebuild and comfort those who are still with us.”

Sans looked down at the teddy bear and nodded sadly.

With a deep sigh, the hen ruffled Sans’ hooded head and went back behind the counter. Sans placed the teddy bear and the other items—still sitting on the clothes table—onto the counter.

She totaled the items, and gave Sans the amount. He blinked at her.

“But, wait, miss,” he said, confused. “It should be much more than that.”

“I’m not charging you for the teddy bear,” she smiled warmly.

Sans gasped, his eyebrows raised pleadingly. “No, wait! You don’t have to—”

She reached over the counter and ruffled the top of his head again. “My dear, I don’t run this shop to make a profit. I started this shop to help others out. There is no way I could accept gold for your brother’s bear.”

“Th-thank you, miss,” he stammered, stunned. “I-I don’t know what to say....”

“You’re so welcome,” she smiled as he placed the items in his bag. “And, please, call me Ashen.”

Sans smiled back, shouldering the bulging haversack. “Thank you, Ashen. And my name is Sans.”

“Well, Sans,” she said, giving a shudder that sent her sooty grey feathers rippling. “It was so nice to meet you, and I really do hope you come back to see me again soon.”

“I will, Ashen,” he nodded. “I’m so happy to have met you. Thank you for...for everything.”

The two new friends waved goodbye, and Sans left the shop.

Sans hurried down the road, looking left and right frantically for an empty alleyway. The city was filled with monsters, so finding somewhere unoccupied was difficult. Eventually he found a small path between two buildings that appeared empty, and slipped down it. Making sure no one was in sight, he shut his eyes, then stepped forward.

He felt the frigid air as he opened his eyes, arriving in front of the shelter. He wasted no time in digging out the entrance, calling to his brother so he wouldn’t be afraid someone was invading the shelter.

Sans panicked for a moment when he heard no response, but as soon as he came into the main room, he saw Papyrus, fast asleep on the bed under several fabric scraps.

Poor thing, Sans thought as he unshouldered the bag and put it on the bed.

He nudged his brother gently. “Pap? Wake up, Pap.”

The little skeleton moaned as he was roused, then snapped awake. He gasped and threw himself against his brother, hugging him so tight, Sans’ bones popped.

“I’m so, so sorry that took so long, Pap,” Sans apologized, returning the hug.

“Pa scared mosters take Sas,” Papyrus whimpered, nestling his face in his brother’s chest. “But Pa did what Sas said, waited here, waited for Sas. Sas okay?”

Sans rubbed the top of his brother’s head gently. “Yeah, I’m ok. I’m sorry I scared you. But...well...I have something I’ve got to tell you.”

Papyrus sat back on the bed, a look of utter terror on his face, fearing bad news.

“No, no,” Sans grinned, waggling his hands and shaking his head. “It’s nothing bad or anything. But, well, you see....”

Sans sat on the bed, rubbing the back of his skull as he dreaded his upcoming confession. He couldn’t even look his brother in the eyes.

“I, uh...went...into...the...cavern...,” he murmured, each word getting lower and more mumbled.

Papyrus’ jaw nearly fell off his skull as his eyes grew wider than apples.

“Now, wait, hang on,” Sans said, his eyebrows raised pleadingly. “Before you get upset, let me explain.”

“Sas gonna leave Pa...?” The little skeleton’s whisper was barely audible.

“No! Of course not, Papyrus! I’d never leave you. I snuck in there to get some food!”

Papyrus blinked, his mouth still hanging open.

“Listen,” Sans urged. He then started partially explaining everything—leaving out the part where he planned this trip for the last month and how he had put himself at serious risk of getting caught. “I saw the carts going into the cavern, and I saw them growing the trees with magic, so I thought ‘huh, maybe they’re growing food in there,’ so I jumped on the cart and found out that they have a huge city in there now, with a market, and I got a whole bunch of great food, and now that I’ve been there, I can just use my magic to go back in there anytime we need more!”

Sans grinned winningly at his brother while he panted after spouting out his explanation in a single breath.

Papyrus slowly closed his mouth and narrowed his eyes. An eyebrow soon started to rise as the little skeleton frowned. He gave an exasperated sigh that sounded more like a huff.

“Sas go in cav, coulda been taken by mosters! What if Sas caught?!”

Sans shut his eyes, grinning wider. “Then I would have used my magic and come right back here.”

Papyrus grumbled as his expression softened. “Sas really get food?”

Sans opened his eyes, then gave his brother a wink. “Yup. A lot of food.”

The little skeleton’s face brightened more, the risky adventure being forgiven.

Sans jumped up off the bed and went to the foot of the bed where the haversack was. He showed his brother the purchases he made and told him how he used his own gems to buy them. Papyrus gasped at each loaf, vegetable, fruit, and item that emerged from the bag. Sans withheld the cookie as an after-dinner-surprise, but saved the best for last.

“And...,” Sans said, drawing the syllable out as long as he could. “You will never guess who I found looking for you in the cavern!”

Papyrus sat on the bed, looking up at him, curiously.

Sans slowly pulled out the teddy bear.

The little skeleton gasped so sharply, Sans thought his lungs would tear. Papyrus held his hands to his cheekbones as his mouth remained open, his eyes brimming with tears.

“Teddy...?” Papyrus spoke his teddy bear’s name in a high-pitched, breathy gasp that cut Sans right to his soul.

Sans nodded, holding him out to his brother. Papyrus couldn’t believe his eyes, slowly moving closer, as if he was dreaming and afraid to wake up. He reached out with a trembling hand and grabbed the bear by the tummy, pulling him into a tight embrace.

“Teddy! Teddy!” Papyrus wept happily, his eyes shut tight as tears spilled out.

Sans wiped his own tears on his sleeves, the smile on his face unable to wane.

The two skeleton brothers just stared at it, neither of them able to utter a single word or make the slightest of sounds. They couldn’t move, let alone blink, as they sat, dumbfounded.

It was just too unbelievable.

Their dinner was laid out on their little snow “dining table.” They had prepared it together, cutting, chopping, toasting, combining—enjoying every second of their time making their meal perfect.

Their new wooden bowls were filled with fresh salad, comprised of baby spinach, sliced mouseshroom nightlights, chopped reed stalks, diced tomatoes, pine nuts, and crumbled parmesan cheese, all drizzled with an oil dressing infused with herbs and garlic.

On their new little plates were a couple slices of warmed crusty wheat bread, a small hunk of smoked gouda, a few nuts, and several carrot slices.

Their new wooden cups were filled with ice cold water—Sans had melted some snow in their new pot by the fire, poured the water into the cups, and put chunks of snow in them to chill the water back up. While they didn’t need water to survive—being skeletons, it was impossible for them to suffer thirst or dehydration—it was certainly nice to have something to wash their food down with again.

Sans had set down burlap pieces for placemats, folding up some smaller scraps for napkins and placing their new wooden cutlery on top. Nestled under their bowls and plates were the little parchment pastry bags—Sans insisting that Papyrus not peek inside until after he finished his dinner.

They continued staring in silence, the only sounds in the little shelter being the crackling of the magical flame and the occasional growl of a skeleton stomach.

“This looks amazing,” Sans whispered at last.

“Yeah,” Papyrus breathed in agreement.

Sans gave a small laugh of disbelief, glancing up at his brother. “No more hungry nights, Pap.”

“Yeah,” Papyrus looked up at his brother and smiled.

Sans looked back at their meal and sighed happily. “We should start eating, or we will be going to bed hungry again.”

“Yeah,” Papyrus giggled.

They slowly picked up their utensils and started their salads. The two brothers looked at each other, joyous groans emitting from their chewing mouths at the delicious tastes they were experiencing. Then they went at the food with gusto, savoring every single bite.

Sans was wiping the last remnant of dressing from his empty bowl with his final bite of wheat bread, as Papyrus had picked up his bowl to his mouth, pushing the last fragments into his open mouth.

Sans finished just before his brother, and couldn’t help but grin as he watched Papyrus, his face hidden behind the tilted bowl. His soul felt fuller than his stomach, knowing that his little brother finally had a proper, healthy meal after so long.

Papyrus licked his bowl clean, then set it back down on the burlap placemat with a satisfied “ahh!” He then looked up at his brother expectantly.

“Can Pa open now?”

Sans grinned and nodded. “Yes, you can open it now. I hope you like it.”

Papyrus cautiously opened the bag, as if a fragile treasure might be within. He peered into it and gasped, looking up at Sans. “Cookie!”

Sans smiled as his brother pulled out the large cookie and gave a huge chomp into it. He took out his own and bit into it, relishing its sweet, chocolaty goodness. They both ate their cookies with the occasional “mmm,” the crunching and munching overpowering the crackling of the fire in the other room.

Not a single piece of snow was consumed that night, for their stomachs were entirely satisfied.

After dinner, they washed their new dishes in one of the buckets with melted snow water and the glycerin soap. They dried them with burlap, then Sans created another bone shelf in the pantry side boulder, placing the clean wooden dishes up on it.

Sans emptied out the dishwater several feet away from their shelter entrance, scrubbing it out with clean snow, then came back inside to fill it back up with clean water. They changed into their fresh new clothes, and Sans washed their old clothes in the bucket with the soap, rinsed it in another bucket, and, after wringing them out, hung them up on the warming rack bones to dry overnight. The feel of clean, soft, new fabrics felt so comfortable and cozy to both of them. Sans then emptied the dirty water from both buckets outside in a different spot, scrubbed them clean with another handful of snow, then dried them with a scrap of rough cloth.

Sans took the little pot that was melting snow and poured it into the clean water bucket next to the “bowl” dug out of snow, which was filled to overflowing with fruits and vegetables. He stuffed the little pot to the brim with snow from the pile for making snow treats, then placed it back on the bones he had made to dry out the pine cones at the left edge of the fire basin to melt overnight.

Once they were done cleaning up and putting things away, they played together a bit before bedtime. Then they climbed into bed, Papyrus making his blue bones disappear to darken the room. Sans pulled up the fabrics over them as Papyrus snuggled up to his brother, clutching his beloved Teddy in the crook of his arm.

Sans told Papyrus all about the shopkeepers he had met and the things he had seen. He noticed that his brother had fallen asleep somewhere during the part where he was returning home. He nuzzled into his brother’s forehead and followed him into slumber.

The two brothers slept soundly with full bellies and happy souls as the gentle winds outside blew swirls of snowflakes around their hidden shelter.

#undertale #undertale fanfic #undertale fanfiction #sans #papyrus #sans and papyrus #sans undertale #papyrus undertale #skelebros #babybones #TBMP #TwoBrothersManyPaths #Two Brothers Many Paths #undertale anniversary #undertale 5th anniversary

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thebiasrekkers · 4 years

Text

Fragmentation 0.2 - PJM

Plot: How does one measure freedom? Are our choices truly our own, or are they part of a preset design outside of our control? We all have a question burning inside of us, though few speak it out. It is the question that drives us forward, seeking purpose in our lives. What is The Matrix?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Pairing: N/A

Warnings: Strong language, allusions to suicide, extreme angst, graphic violence

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 3,068

AN: Alright guys, get ready for these to hit the timeline back to back! I hope you’re ready! I thoroughly enjoyed writing these and yes, because it’s The Matrix, we are going to get dark in this piece. As I stated before, all information in the universe can be found on the official Matrix Wiki so please use that as a reference guide if you ever get confused!

Tag List: @aroseforyoongi, @prisczero, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @unoriginal-username15432

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“Jimin! Aren’t you coming?”

Jimin casually glanced over his shoulder, readjusting the strap to his backpack in a more comfortable position. A few of his classmates waved to him, urging him to come along. They were finished with their studies for the day and didn’t have any after school activities that required their attention. Normally, they would head to the arcade to mindlessly spend the quarters weighing their pockets down.

He smiled, shaking his head and waving back at them. “No, you guys go on ahead. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

His friends pouted, canting their heads slightly before shrugging. They laughed as they turned to head down the street, all of them declaring loudly how they were going to beat the other into submission in a round of Street Fighter.

Sighing, Jimin pushed his way through the crowd to head to the local library. The internet was faster there and he could focus on what he wanted to work on in peace and quiet. Stopping at a vending machine on the way, he bought a few drinks and some snacks to tide him over until he was forced to stop working due to needing sleep.

It wasn’t like there was anyone waiting for him at home anyway.

Hopping up the stone steps, he entered through the front door and smiled at the library clerk. She was a pretty woman - at least pretty in terms of being an old lady. Late fifties to early sixties at best, he could guess. Jimin never told her his name, however, but she didn’t mind. She always referred to him as “Young Man” and he answered readily with a smile.

“Research again, Young Man?” she asked, holding out a book for him.

Jimin took the item from her, already knowing that she wanted him to put it back where it was supposed to go. He smiled. “Yes ma’am.” He eyed the cover. “Ching Dynasty in the History section, right?”

The old lady beamed at him. “Correct. You’re such a good lad.”

“I try,” he said with a laugh.

“Well, don’t work too hard. I know you’ve been focusing very hard on your project these last few weeks, but you’re young and shouldn’t strain your eyes so much.”

Jimin bowed his head slightly. “I won’t. Thank you.”

He quickly maneuvered around the library, locating the history section and replaced the book. He always had a knack of finding things and Jimin just knew when things were out of place. His teachers called it a “gift” but he had a feeling that it was something else entirely. He just couldn’t place it. Not yet, at least.

Making his way toward the back of the library, he reached a few taupe colored desks nestled in a small nook in the corner. He threw his backpack on top of the shelf portion, unzipping the top and rifling around inside. He pulled out two mini discs and one floppy disc. Reaching further into the pack, his fingers wrapped around the mini computer and the wires needed to make the device work. He wasted no time booting up the computer, setting up the small computer beside the motherboard and plugging things in.

It only took him a few minutes to go through various checks to make sure that his connection was secure. Then he pulled up a few console windows, his fingers typing swiftly over the keys.

???:

He couldn’t describe the wave of relief that hit him when he saw his chat partner beginning the conversation. Lately Jimin had to be the one to initiate the chat, hoping that he reached them.

Cobra:

Jimin felt a bead of sweat forming on the bridge of his nose. He knew that this could possibly chase them away. But there was a chance that it wouldn’t. And the information his friend gave him was too profound to ignore.

???:

Cobra:

???:

Cobra:

???:

It was now or never. Jimin felt like if he didn’t take advantage of this opportunity now, he would never get another one. His chance to obtain the answers to his questions would slip through his fingers like sand. He wouldn’t be able to recover it fast enough.

Cobra:

???:

Cobra:

???:

Blinking at the screen, Jimin reached under the desk and began patting around the surface beneath. His thumb brushed up against something. Curling his fingers around it, he pulled it free - the distinct sound of velcro separating shockingly loud in the quiet confines of his corner. Jimin inspected it, not sure what to make of the item his friend left for him. It was no bigger than a pack of cigarettes, but the container was made of metal.

When did they prepare this?

Though the more pressing question was how did they know he would be sitting at that particular desk on that particular day?

Just how close was his friend?

Jimin couldn’t stop the cold shiver from snaking up his back. He was nervous, but excited. Something was wrong with him.

Cobra:

???:

He watched his friend go offline, leaving him alone. He could sense that there wasn’t much time. Jimin quickly logged off, turned off the computer and haphazardly threw all of his things into his bag. Stuffing the small metal container into his inner jacket pocket, he slung the backpack over his shoulder and made his way to the entrance of the stairs.

The library building was tall - at least thirty stories. Jimin climbed them all. He wasn’t sure if it was nerves hammering around inside of his chest or the adrenaline of excitement rushing his footsteps, but he didn’t care. After months of secret conversations, he was finally going to learn something. He would release the pressure at the back of his brain, telling him that something was wrong with the world that he lived in.

Bursting through the rooftop access door, Jimin was greeted with a swift burst of cold air. The sun had long since set. He didn’t remember being in the library for very long. Was it already that late?

Jimin sensed a flash of movement from his right, his body reacting faster than his mind could process. Leaning back, he dodged a fist that was aimed for the side of his head. Pivoting on his heels, he spun out of reach just as another fist shot out - hoping to strike true.

“Hey!” he yelled, stumbling back a few paces. “What’s the big idea?!”

Standing in front of him was a man no taller than him - Asian in origin, though he could only guess that he was of Chinese descent based on his clothing choice. He wore an off white changsan, a black fitted shirt underneath, and long wide leg pants. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses - the lenses small and round. His hair was cut short - military-style buzz cut. The man was clearly skilled in martial arts.

Jimin watched him smile and this only caused his irritation to mount further. Hadn’t his friend told him that he could trust the person he was meeting on the roof? Was this all a setup?

The man lowered his stance, placing a palm over one fist and bowing his head. After a few seconds, Jimin bowed his head also, but maintained eye contact with him. The man continued to smile at him.

“You have very good reflexes for one so young,” he complimented.

Jimin shrugged. “I guess so.”

“You move like a cobra.” He lowered his arms down to his sides. “I am Seraph. I will guide you to The Oracle.”

“The Oracle?” Jimin couldn’t hide the confused expression on his face. He’d heard rumors online about someone with that moniker, but he figured it was just some myth circulating through the dark net. “I’m...meeting The Oracle.”

Seraph nodded, fishing into his pocket as he approached the roof access door. “Yes. She has much to discuss with you. But we must hurry.” He pulled out a small ring of keys, sliding one of them into the lock. “We don’t have much time.”

Before Jimin could question Seraph’s sanity, he watched the man open the door. But instead of a set of stairs, he could see a back alley in its place. His lips parted, unable to properly fathom what he’d just seen. The moisture left his mouth and a throbbing pain began drilling into the back of his head. Seraph was instantly at his side, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“You have to remain calm. Take a few deep breaths.”

He felt like he was choking. “W-What is going on?”

“Breathe, Cobra. If your mental acuity spikes too much, they will be able to locate us.”

“T-They?”

“We need to go. Now.”

It was painful for him to nod, but Seraph helped him toward the door. Once inside the alley, he watched Seraph closing the door and locking it behind them. The street lights flickered sporadically, serving as a guide through the darkness. If Seraph was speaking to him, which he doubted, he didn’t think he would be able to hear him over the thunder of his own heartbeat.

Jimin didn’t remember seeing Seraph unlocking another door, or the two more after that, but he was jolted to a sudden halt when they stood in front of a bright red door. It looked like the kind of door that belonged to a quaint house in the suburbs. The kind of house a normal, loving family would have attached to their single family home.

Seraph motioned for Jimin to open it, as this door was not locked. Or, at least, he could only assume that it wasn’t since he hadn’t seen Seraph pulling out a key from his key ring. He grabbed for the brass handle and turned the knob, pushing the door open and stepping over the threshold.

There was a sweet aroma hovering in the air, making Jimin’s mouth water instantly. In all of the controlled chaos, he’d forgotten to eat. The soft tones of jazz came from a radio in the kitchen. He followed the sounds and stopped at the entrance.

Standing by the stove was a woman who looked to be in her mid to late fifties. She was a little heavier built, but her curves were defined and lovely in a sweet sort of way. Her back was to him, but through her dark curls he saw strands of gray peppered throughout. Smoke billowed from an ashtray nearby where an abandoned cigarette rested against one of the center notches.

“Um,” he finally managed, taking a step forward, “excuse me?”

“Just a minute,” said the woman, her voice hauntingly familiar, “they’re almost finished. You might want to have a seat.”

Jimin reigned his curiosity back as he watched the woman lean over to pull a tray of cookies out of the oven. Heat rushed through the kitchen from the stove, warming him from the inside out. She set the tray down on the counter, giving the pastries a chance to cool. As she wiped her hands on her apron, she turned to look at Jimin and he immediately lost his balance. He blindly reached for the nearest chair, collapsing into it.

“It...It’s you,” he stammered, looking at the woman he’d come to know as the kind library clerk, “but how?”

The woman smiled, reaching for her cigarette. She took a drag, exhaling smoke from her nostrils. “I told you to have a seat.”

His eyes shook, darting in every direction before landing back on her. None of this made any sense. Jimin’s gaze moved to the floor as he tried to calm his breathing, placing a hand on his chest in an almost vain attempt to settle his rattled nerves. He watched the woman’s shadow move closer to him until she, too, was sitting across from him. When he looked up, the older woman was holding out a plate to him - a single cookie placed in the center.

“Here. I know you’re probably hungry. This will tide you over until dinner is finished.”

He unconsciously took the cookie off the plate, but he was unsure of whether to eat it or not. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust it was safe to eat. He wasn’t sure he would be able to keep it down.

She set a glass of water in front of him. “Now listen to me, Cobra. We don’t have a whole lot of time. I’m sure you’re just as aware of that fact as I am.”

Jimin reached a trembling hand toward the glass. “Are you really The Oracle?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” The Oracle chuckled as she tapped a bit of ash off into the tray. “So many questions and yet I knew that would be the first one you’d ask.”

He drained half the glass in a single gulp. “Something is happening to me.”

“Yes, it is.” She pressed the cigarette to her lips. “It’s been happening for a while now.”

“Are you responsible for it?”

“No, Cobra.” The Oracle blew smoke out of her mouth. “You are.”

“What?”

“Did you bring the package with you?”

Jimin frowned. “If you’re The Oracle, shouldn’t you know that answer already?”

Again, she chuckled. “I do. I’m asking more for your sake than my own. You look ready to pop.”

His fingers moved from the glass and toward his pocket. He pulled out the small metal case and placed it on the table between them. Instead of reaching for it, however, The Oracle gestured toward him.

“Go on. Open it.”

Jimin opened the box, unsure of what he was actually looking at. Inside were what appeared to be two gel caplets. One red, the other blue. A bead of sweat slid down from his temple to his chin, dripping onto the top of his shoe. He slowly lifted his face to look at The Oracle who still had a calm expression painted over her features.

“Like I said earlier, Cobra, we don’t have a lot of time. I can only apologize for taking so long to close the distance between us. If I’d been faster, then we wouldn’t be rushing now.”

“Rushing for what?”

“To give you the answers you so desperately seek.” She crushed the ember of her cigarette out into the tray. “You have a choice to make. Right now. If you still want to know the truth about everything, about why you feel like the world around you doesn’t make sense, or why you feel so isolated in it, then take the red pill and seek the answers out for yourself.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” Tears welled up at the corners of his eyes. “How am I supposed to do that alone?”

The Oracle reached out a hand to cup his cheek. Her touch was warm; comforting. It helped relax his already fraying nerves. Her thumb stroked over the corner of his eye, wiping the tear away. “Oh, honey, you won’t be alone.” She looked every bit like a mother comforting a scared child in that instant. “But I won’t lie to you, the truth is going to be hard to swallow. Harder than that pill. You’ll probably hate me after you find out the truth. If you feel you won’t be able to handle any of that, then take the blue pill. You’ll forget all about me and what you’ve seen the very minute you step out that door.”

She removed her hand from his cheek, making him very aware of how cold the world seemed at the absence of her touch. Jimin eyed the pills in the box. What did he have to lose by taking the red pill and finding out the truth? His life here was meaningless - just an endless sequence of purposeless days bleeding into purposeless weeks, meshing into equally purposeless months until years with no purpose marched on.

Plucking the red pill from the foam cushion in the box, he popped it into his mouth without hesitation. He grabbed the glass of water and gulped down what remained, swallowing it.

The Oracle suddenly grabbed Jimin’s hand just as he set the glass back down on the table. “Listen to me very carefully, Cobra. I need you to remember what I tell you when you wake up.”

“W-What do you mean?” Jimin’s vision began to swim momentarily. His auditory senses almost seemed heightened at that moment and he heard several heavy footsteps approaching from the living room.

“You are going to find The One. That is the path that you have chosen for yourself.” The Oracle pressed both of her hands on either side of his face. “Believe in that path. When you discover the truth, you will come to understand the meaning behind my words.”

“Oracle, please,” Jimin managed to choke out, “I don’t understand…”

He saw several shadows circling him and different voices began talking all at once.

“We’ve almost narrowed down his location,” said a man to his right, “we need just a few more seconds.”

Jimin gripped onto the woman’s arms in desperation. “I’m scared!”

“It’s okay to be scared. That’s normal, I promise.” The Oracle pressed a kiss to his forehead and he the distinct smell of cookies and cigarettes filled his nose. “Remember my words, Cobra. Know the path and walk the path you forge for yourself.”

“Got him!”

The world seemed to tunnel vision around him, causing his vision to grow darker by the second.

“Will I see you again?” he said through his tears.

“Yes, Young Man,” she replied with a smile he could barely see, “you will.”

And then everything flickered to black and green, the entire room transforming into strings of code. Jimin let out a scream before darkness completely overtook his sight.

“Welcome to the Real World.”

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aubreycasuallyobsesses · 5 years

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Sweet, Sweet is the Greeting of Eyes pt. 1

Lady Veronica x Forsythe Pendleton Jones III

Summary: It’s 1819 England—two young adults have found a mutual admiration for each other over hours of exchanging words about poetry, literature, science and the arts. The first, Lady Veronica, is wealthy beyond imagination, but so isolated in her country home. The second is Forsythe Pendleton Jones III, an academic who thrived while educating the underprivileged youths of London. The bond they slowly form over time is what they both want and crave...but what did it all mean for their own futures - both together, and singularly.

Notes: Oh my god. This is my first ever actual fic, let alone a regency!au, I hope you like it @kindnessinpain2000 , time got away from me this month, but this was fun to create! I really loved all your requests, but this vibe really stuck in my mind. I think I’ll probably do 1-2 more parts if you love this...Happy Holidays love! Also, I know the title is from a John Keats poem he wrote in a letter in June 1818, to George and Georgiana Keats - which was first published in 1925, but I swear it’s something they’d exchange in this fic, so I’m going with it.

Warnings: Honestly none, maybe just some major slow burn, and a touch of the typical moody Jughead we know and love.

It was 1819 and spring was finally here. As he approached Pembrooke, hired on as a tutor by one of the wealthiest families on this side of Oxford, he couldn’t help but miss the city. The constant change of faces, never-ending booksellers and his students. He taught underprivileged teens and young adults how to read. Watching each come alive while reading his favorite literature was fascinating to him. Leaving London for permanent employment at a country house didn’t spark anything thrilling for him, but the financial security felt like a need due to unforeseen familial issues that recently arose. Little did he know his entire future would be upended soon enough.

Forsythe Pendleton Jones III was an academic who had a way with words. Compared to others of a similar age, he was incredibly well educated. With a swath of floppy dark brown waves, a stare that could pierce one's soul and an air of mystery behind his eyes. Women of all ages noticed him. He was never one for romance, he could be, but no one intrigued him longer than a few minutes. That is until he walked into the entrance hall of the country home. He was greeted by The Lord and Lady Pembrooke and more specifically their only daughter, Lady Veronica.

As the weeks passed and time turned to months, he fell into a simple routine, or as simple as one could get existing within this environment. His mornings consisted of tea, reading alone in the study prior to making his way to the north library for daily education. He tutored Lord Pembrooke’s young nephews from Spain, who now lived in England year-round. Although compared to his typical London pupils, they had been exposed at an early age to some of the best literature, art, music, mathematics, and sciences one could afford. However, just like his former pupils, the boys still had that spark in their eye and an excitement for learning. Most days were spent this way, with evenings in the library, where he often read aloud to the family and distant relatives or friends of the Lord and Lady who spent weekends in the country.

During the seemingly endless evenings immersed in a book, he grew to look forward to Saturdays most. This was when Lady Veronica read to the boys in the afternoons while he prepared the lessons for the following week. Oftentimes he found himself distracted and lost in thought while she took over the study with her voice, which was so unlike him. Where were these thoughts creeping in from, why her of all people, it’s not like he had a chance to ever publicly declare he had these thoughts about her. They were from two very different backgrounds, while he was well off and had some slight social advantages, her father would never allow for their lives to intertwine romantically.

It was after one of these weekend afternoons, while he was lost in a recently published science essay for the boys Monday lessons, that he looked up just as Lady Veronica passed by the desk and softly dropped a small envelope on his never-ending stack of textbooks. After they shared a mutually discreet glance, she was gone from the room. Although he was anxious to rip the parchment open and delve into whatever she had written to him, he slowly collected his papers, books, quills, sure to not forget her mysterious note and with haste escaped to his living quarters in the north wing. Once inside, he settled at his chair near the window to unseal the unassuming note. He was immediately caught by her graceful and quickly scrawled words. It was not known that he had a fondness for the romantic sonnets of the past and present, but more specifically Lord George Byron. How she had known this, he assumed was purely coincidental.

And like music on the waters Is thy sweet voice to me: When, as if its sound were causing The charmed ocean’s pausing, The waves lie still and gleaming, And the lull’d winds seem dreaming: Meet me in the garden at half-past dusk tomorrow...LV.

Moving from the window to his desk, removing a quill, some parchment and settling in to contemplate how to reply. He needed to write something in such a way that conveyed every thought of her that occupied his mind, without seeming entirely too infatuated or overbearing, he scrawled down, not his own words, but Percy Bysshe Shelly.

Thy gentle words are drops of balm

In life’s too bitter bowl;

These choicest blessings I have

known.

Harriet! If all who long to live

In the warm sunshine of thine eyes, -F

After sealing the small note, Forsythe needed to find a moment to slip it to her unnoticed. The family resided in the east wing, which he rarely ventured to. It needed to be inconspicuous; however, he could hardly ask her lady’s maid, Elisbeth to hand off the note to her without stirring up whispers among the others. He decided to wait until after their shared family meal, and while he selected a book to read that evening. She routinely wandered the library and would choose favorites for him to read passages from, while Lord and Lady Pembrooke said their goodnights to the boys prior to joining for the evening. Tonight while he handed off a Wordsworth’s An Evening Walk and Descriptive Sketches, to her, they shared a quick glance and brushed fingertips. With his small token of admiration tucked inside the cover.

The night passed excruciatingly too slow for him. The following day, while he enjoyed the time spent delving into their expansive literature collection, he wanted nothing more than to somehow speed time and space up to get through the next day. Although he had a leisurely day of riding with Lord Pembrooke in the northeastern Cotswolds, on which Pembrooke sat with all of its stately, silent power - his mind was consumed entirely by Lady Veronica throughout the afternoon outing. Lord Pembrooke continued to engage in conversation with him throughout the day gone, most of which consisted of him trying to convince Forsythe into participating in his humorous antics with his valet and the young men who rode along. It was a pleasant escape from the normal academic rigors of the last weeks, but he wanted nothing more than for dusk to finally arrive.

With time finally on his side, he made his way out the north side exit to the sweeping gardens south of the home, he couldn’t help but feel a small sliver of anxiety. This is not something he normally did. Secret stolen glances, mysterious garden strolls with a woman of her caliber were just not things Forsythe Pendleton Jones III participated in. But there was something different about Lady Veronica. She was an enigma. Other ladies of a similar age were already well acquainted with love and romance, oftentimes already marrying a gentleman of significant family power and notoriety. Yet, here she was, sharing mutual glances with him over literature. Discussing the works of today’s most influential authors and poets with him in the study throughout the days. How had fate placed her in his path, was this to be a fleeting moment or the start of something more.

Lost in wandering a section covered in soft moss and wildflowers near the outskirts of the garden, he hadn’t heard her approach. Suddenly she was next to him and he was unable to form a coherent thought to create a sentence. Luckily for him, she took the lead, “Hello Forsythe, I see you have found yourself in my absolute favorite section of my mother’s garden, shall we walk?” She slipped her graceful hand into the nook of his arm and thus began their secret conversations.

As they wandered aimlessly throughout the Pembrooke’s unparalleled garden, they shared slowly about their favorite topics, uncovering what made their minds operate. When each realized, unbeknownst to them, that this was not going to be a singular incident. They were discovering that there was another soul in the universe that related to their own mind, even heart, so closely. Just as they were rounding another corner of the labyrinth they had aimlessly strolled into, thunder was heard above. Soon enough it was a ceaseless rainfall. Removing his tailcoat and draping it over her small frame, they found refuge from the summer storm, in the small garden pavilion.

While waiting for the rain to cease, they sat in comfortable silence. Each reveling in the absolute quiet that always happens during a particularly hard rainfall. While she watched the garden and contained all the words that he too was holding back for fear of breaking the magic spell that fell over them. He couldn’t help but let his mind wander again. To all of the countless times he had admired, not just her mind, but her outward beauty as well. She had dark hair, just a shade darker than his own, nearly the color of a raven’s feathers. With facial features that he saw as almost exotic compared to other women he saw while living in London, yet her face was also so familiar to him. Lost in his own mind yet again, he hadn’t noticed that she glanced over while he leaned back against the pillar of the stone pavilion. With a smirk on her face and a devilish glint in her eye, “Forsythe, dare I say we escape this cold night and make a run for shelter?”

After giving hardly any thought to the inquiry, “Oh, Lady Veronica, I thought you would like to stay here, with me and exist in this freezing realm of silence forever?”

With a laugh and a shake of her raven-haired head, she said, “I should never leave if I didn’t have to Forsythe.” Taking her hand, he whisked her into the storm across the garden, in the direction of Pembrooke.

As they ran towards the warmth of the fireplaces and dry clothing that awaited each of them inside. Unknown to each of them was what fate truly did have in store for them. The neverending hours wandering the gardens, learning the deepest feelings of one another. The endless laughs exchanged over comedic books, reading poems, literature and countless notes covertly exchanged. What it all meant for their own futures - both together, and singularly.

#jeronicasecretsanta19 #jeronica nation #jeronica secret santa 2019 #jeronica au #regency au #with some maybe georgian era influences #aubreycasuallywrites #veronica lodge x jughead jones #I honestly have no clue what I'm doing tbqh

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crimsonblackrose · 5 years

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When looking up things to do I thought going to a museum full of art and old books might be fun so I took the train and then a bus to the National Palace Museum. The bus drop off is a short walk from the entrance for groups, since the public bus stop is also near where tour buses drop off. The first floor is where these bus groups check-in and is also where the gift shop is. However for people or families you’ll want to go up a floor to the regular check-in. Prices are 350 NT$ (US$11.33) per adult. There are several discounts available for international students with ISIC cards, groups or kids.

Before going through security you need to remove any food or drinks from your bag. There’s a section of coin lockers for you to store your things, but small purses or bags are fine. But if you have any water bottles or food they want you to write your name on a paper, tape it to the bottle or container and leave it in the room with everything else, then when you’re ready to leave you can go back and get it.

The museum is three floors and I started on the top floor. I figured it’d be easiest to work my way down. The first part I went to was “Art in Quest of Heaven and Truth” which included jade and some other precious stones.

I learned, in this section, that there are two different types of jade. They’re called jadeite and nephrite. Between the two nephrite is more common and can be found in more places around the world while there are far less places that you can find jadeite. Usually when I think of jade I think of green gemstones, but in reality nephrite can be white, yellow or red as well as different shades of green. Jadeite can be lavender or black as well as green, yellow or white. Jadeite is dense and hard while nephrite is tougher. It was really an interesting thing to learn that these two things made up what we call jade.

But after awhile I got bored of looking at precious jewels and jade. The next section I visited was about incense. I really expected the “Scents of Heaven” to be interactive with locations where you could smell the different scents of wood and was quickly disappointed.

The exhibit was more about Agarwood and the tools and containers for incense. Agarwood comes from a type of aquilaria tree and their resin which covers the wood and is used to make incense.

While there were some things about tools for incense as well as various containers there were also things made out of agarwood, including sculptures, carvings and jewelry.

After leaving the agarwood I visited a section with a long line that tour groups tended to hover around. It turned out to be one of the most famous things on display.

The jadeite cabbage is a beautiful carved piece of jadeite that looks like a head of cabbage and also has some bugs and creatures intricately hidden among the leaves. It was my favorite piece of jade (jadeite/nephrite) that I saw at the museum. I also soon found a nice break from jade and jewels to find a section on illusion and art of optical illusions. It was a bit small but fun.

There were a lot of sections of historical pieces.

On the second floor there was a section on “The Phenomenon of Yixing Ware”

Which essentially was a bunch of interesting looking tea pots. In Yixing County there is a lot of clay that gets used to make these pots and ceramics.

The second floor also held my favorite exhibit which was a collaboration with the local zoos and aquarium. It was for kids but also one that clearly everyone had a lot of fun putting together.

Essentially they had gone through their archives and found their best examples of animals among the art they had and compared the paintings with what the animals actually look like. This included the 12 Chinese Zodiac (+the cat).

And then they had sections of just the animals and information about the animals or the paintings. They also included information about conservation and how we can help these animals or learn more about the dangers they’re facing.

But my favorite paintings included a section where they discussed how historically artists painted animals. It took a lot longer to get around then it does now. Before airplanes and cameras were invented artists had a couple options when someone commissioned them to draw an animal. They either needed to go to where those animals could be found and study them as much as they could. This included days of hiding in the wilderness with paper and trying to commit everything about the animal down. (A great example of this is the beautiful tiger painting I included in the section about the zodiac). But sometimes the artist couldn’t go that far away and would have to instead listen to stories about what those animals look like and use their imagination to draw the animal. And thus you end up with this lovely beast.

It’s a lion. I love it. I love its big floppy dog like ears and concerned face. But it only rivals my love for this mildly accurate but super grumpy toad. The toad was from a much bigger painting but was a close up, and is probably one of my favorite pieces.

After learning about animals and history and art and conservation the section changed to the aquarium’s collaboration which included a ton of really gorgeous pieces.

I really loved this section for kids. It was truly my favorite part of the museum and I’m kinda bummed it was so short lived. It was just up for the summer. I hope they continue to have fun kid content like this. Afterwards I went down to the first floor which included the exhibit: “Compassion and Wisdom: Religious Sculptural Arts”.

And the exhibit I was most excited for: “Rare books and historical documents gallery”.

I guess I’m not sure what I was expecting. I think I was expecting a more in-depth deep dive to why these books are considered rare and a bit about their contents. But a lot of it is government agency documents and books. Which are beyond my scope of understanding on multiple levels. So I mostly just studied the way they were bound and housed.

You also couldn’t take pictures of a lot of them.

I spent most of my day at the museum. A lot of time wandering around looking at things. It was a good way to escape the heat outside. If you get thirsty, while there is no water allowed, there are water fountains on every floor and you can drink there, you cannot carry the water cups with you though, you can only drink in those designated areas.

When I was done I picked up my water bottle from the lockers and then tried to find my way to the restaurant. There’s a cafe in the museum but I wanted lunch.

I ended up going the wrong way. I went down the shaded tree path which led me down into the open courtyard. Instead, I should’ve just walked towards the parking lot and headed in the direction of the library.

I was looking for the restaurant/cafe called Fu-ch’un-chü. The entrance in down the hill behind this sign.

The entrance is here. First when you enter pick your seat, look over the menu and then when you’re ready go back to the front and put in your order and pay. Then it’ll be brought out to you.

I ordered beef noodle soup which a friend was very adamant I have while I was in Taiwan. It was 250NT$.

I also ordered their caramel milk tea iced which was 120 NT$ and came with some crackers. All the caramel flavor seemed to be drizzled on top and not actually through the entire drink which I was disappointed in.

After sitting and eating for a bit I went back to the main museum building, looked around the gift shop then waited for the bus to go back to the train station. Please note that the stop to get off at drops you off a couple blocks away from the station.

The National Palace Museum Taipei When looking up things to do I thought going to a museum full of art and old books might be fun so I took the train and then a bus to the National Palace Museum.

#art #art exhibits #art museums #beef noodle soup #cafes #Fu-ch&039;un-chü #museums #Taipei #Taiwan #the national palace museum #the national palace museum taipei #travel

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thegreatshono · 5 years

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What's your opinion on indie comics?

So this was all originally posted on Twitter last night. but I don't think many of you follow me there, and I want to know your opinion too. So i'm reposting for your opinion: Okay my fellow indie comic lovers I need your opinion on something. I came across a indie comic at AWA this past weekend. The idea was fantastic, the art was solid, I was sold until they told me the price. $10 for a 30 page issue. I thought it was too expensive, plus I'm poor so I passed on buying the books. But I've been thinking about it a lot, IS the book too expensive? Now I've made my opinions clear that comics have gotten too expensive in recent years. Comics in the silver age (when adjusted for inflation) only cost like $1.25 but modern Marvel books now cost $5. That's a huge difference and I think the high price tag is hurting the industry. HOWEVER, self published indie comics is another animal. We have to do everything ourselves. We have to do the job of writer, artist, graphic designer, publisher, distributor, marketing, social media, accountant, and probably other jobs i'm forgetting. A $1 profit on each book sale doesn't really cover the amount of work you have to do. You're an indie creator you're not selling 200K copies. So why not charge a higher price? The creators work really hard, they should make some money for all that work. Well the problem I see is people are custom to buying $5 for a floppy comic. If your comic is $10, then newcomers to your book might not want to buy it. They know immediately if they like a print, or a pin, or a sticker. They know instantly if they want to spend $10 on it. But you can't know immediately if you're going to like a comic. So it's a gamble. Should i spend $10 on this comic I might not like, or this print i definitely do like? Sure as a indie comic creator a $10 price tag might cover your expenses better, but if no one buys the book, you're covering no expenses. So looping back around. I need your opinion. Would you pay $10 for an indie self published comic that's about 30 pages long? Is that a reasonable price? Shadows of Oblivion #1, #2, and "Better Days" all average at 30 pages. Should I charge $10 for those books? I'd like to stick to my scruples and sell affordable comics so the maximum number of people can enjoy them... but it'd be nice to pay the bills too... It's a dilemma for me. Thats why I need your opinion. Sorry for the long rant... I hope you guys read it...

#Comics #Comic Books #Webcomic #Indie comics #self publish comics #independent comics #comix #comic #comic book #manga #anime #graphic novel #sequential art #shono #shawn mccauley

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theempressar · 6 years

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Valentine’s Day - A Danielle Mini-fic

Valentine's Day Some boys kiss me Some boys hug me I think they're ok If they don't give me proper credit I just walk away

Dani woke up with a slow stretch and tapped her foot to the beat. One of her favorite songs was waking her up today on her retro clock radio with the phone attached. She felt great in her own skin.

She remembered what day it was. The week before was a week of excitement leading up to this most important day in a young girl's life. She smiled as she kicked her feet over the side of the bed and got up doing the twist in her over-sized football jersey.

They can beg and they can plead But they can't see the light (that's right) 'Cause the boy with the cold hard cash Is always Mister Right

She thought about her 'Mr. Right.' Every day had been a special day...just getting to know the boy she once despised when she was a boy herself. She thought back to those days like a distant memory and shook her head. He had proven to her that he was kind and caring and had a huge heart. She thought of his smile. She smiled and her dimple pressed deep into her cheek.

She went to her dresser and pulled open the drawer, immediately tossing clothes to the floor and behind her head.

"Nope...no...not this one....really?" She said looking for something red. Anything red. She knew she should have chosen her outfit the night before but she was too busy daydreaming and trying to get her homework done.

She danced over to her vanity mirror and admired her body for the umpteenth time. She just loved the way she looked now...even if her hair was long and messy and definitely "slept on". She ran her tapered slender fingers through it, combing out some tangles and returned to her task. It was easy to get distracted.

Her phone rang.

"ARRGGHH...not now!!" She picked up the phone, knowing it would be Ali and sure enough, she heard the laughter on the other end of the phone.

"Dani...I know you're heading out the door right now!"

"Uh yeah...give me a minute!"

"Dani we're going to be late and we don't want to be late today!"

"I know, Ali...I know!! I can't wait to see how many carnations and candygrams I get."

There was a groan on the other end of the line.

"Keep rubbing it in. Just 'cause you're the popular girl in school now."

"Oh knock it off. You know I'm only teasing. I bet I don't even get one!" Dani said hopping around the room with the phone in the crook of her neck, pulling up her pink heart, white tights around her waist. She bent over her bed to pull up the slack and smooth them over her legs.

"I bet you get at least one..." Ali said with an unmasked twinge of jealousy in her voice. Dani heard it in her voice and couldn't help but guiltily try and put her at ease. "You know...you're gonna get a bunch too. I'm going to be the first person to buy you a dozen."

"Right...Tiger...you just worry about keeping all those suitors at bay...including the ones with floppy blonde hair and deceiving, dazzling smiles. I'll see you at school. Don't be late!" She hung up the phone.

Danielle settled on a red-hearted turtle neck, long-sleeved shirt and a red jumper coveralls and pink jelly shoes. She didn't care if she looked twelve she was going to be extra cute today. She put on pink lipstick, having perfected the art of applying it and gloss without making too much of a mess. She put on her trademark black fedora and silver bangles. She nodded to herself in the mirror and headed out the door. She grabbed her toast and air-kissed her mom, who was reading the paper and briefly looked up at her daughter, remarking how beautiful she was and for her to be careful.

"I will Ma...love you!"

'Cause we are living in a material world And I am a material girl You know that we are living in a material world And I am a material girl

Dani walked down the hall to her class. Several eyes turned to follow her. It seemed to be the usual. Dani was used to it by now. She smiled and went to her locker and got her books and pocketed the few notes that were stuck in the metal slats. She was sure they were notes from Johnny and she couldn't wait to go some place quiet to read them. They were folded like those triangle football things they all played with during class. A couple had hearts on them. She closed her locker and jumped back, startled.

Johnny was leaning against the lockers with his arms folded looking back at her with a big silly grin on his face. His boyishly handsome good looks always gave Dani's heart a little jolt these days when she saw him. She smiled but then played it cool, and walked past him waiting for him to catch up.

"So...that's it?" He said following after her, brushing past a few people in the hallway.

"So what's it?" Dani said without turning to look at him.

"No...Good Morning, Handsome? How did you sleep?" Johnny said trying to snake his arm around Dani's waist possessively to get her to walk close to him down the hallway to class.

She stayed just out of his reach. "Good morning, Handsome...how did you sleep?" She said quickly and bent to get a drink of water at the fountain. She was trying to hide her laugh.

Johnny leaned against the wall, frustrated. He ran a hand through his blonde bangs and willed her to look at him. "You haven't even seen what I'm wearing!" Danielle looked up from the fountain and gave him a 'once-over'. "You look...nice." She said and walked away. He stood there until she turned around, hand on her hip and a sweet smile on her face. She nodded her head toward the classroom. "C'mon Blondie...we're gonna be late."

Johnny caught up and grabbed Dani's books and kissed the top of her forehead. He ushered her into the classroom, holding the door for her and she went to her desk. Johnny stopped and his face fell. Dani turned to see what he was looking at.

Some boys romance Some boys slow dance That's all right with me If they can't raise my interest then I Have to let them be

On her desk was a literal pile of carnations, candygrams, valentine cards, red suckers with the white icing sayings and hearts on them. Boxes of candy hearts were falling off of the desk onto the floor beside it. There were even a couple of balloons tied to her chair. She looked at her desk in awe. She blushed, the pink tinging her brown skin as she went to take her seat at the front of the classroom.

Johnny frowned and looked at her desk again at all of the red and pink and white carnations that everyone had to spend a dollar on to buy their 'special sweetheart' and Danielle could have opened a flower shop with the amount she received...not to mention make a dentist rich for the amount of candygrams with words of "love" and goofy sayings attached...wishing...hoping....for a date with her.

He went to sit in the back with the other Cobras. They all had their fair share of candygrams on their desks. All of the girls wanted make sure that their favorite Karate Boy knew how much they thought of them. Surprisingly, Dutch had almost as much flowers and candy as Danielle did. He was grinning from ear to ear...supremely smug about his animal magnetism.

"Yeah...look at this Lawrence...I cleaned up this year! I got at least ten numbers here!"

Bobby rolled his eyes at Dutch and looked at his small pile. He didn't do so bad. He had enough...all the notes said something about his eyes and his wispy hair and how sweet he was. He kept his thoughts to himself, looking over at Tommy and Jimmy who had a couple of small piles but were not discouraged because it was only the first class and they had all day to get more candygrams and girls' numbers.

Bobby glanced over to where Ali was sitting at her desk a couple of rows ahead of him. Her head was down and she was looking at some of her notes she received. There wasn't nearly as many showerings of goodies on her desk as there was on Danielle's and she was trying so very hard to keep the smile plastered on her face in good support of her friend. It was hard and she felt the burning sting of a tear at the corner of her eye and she hurriedly brushed it away.

Bobby had hoped she at least saw that she had a flower of every color from him and at least three candygrams telling her what a good friend she was to him. He hoped that she found the note asking her on a date for Saturday night. He had been waiting all month to ask her out and thought this was the good time to do that. A lot had happened between the two of them. He didn't like seeing her upset.

Johnny's desk was covered with an equal amount of flowers and candygrams and candy hearts and balloons and crap as Dutch's was...but he didn't care. He didn't want any of it. He kept staring at Dani as she politely sifted through all of her cards and smiled up at the boys who were eagerly staring back at her wanting her acknowledgement. Johnny almost broke his pencil in two when he saw her return smiles and shyly smell all the flowers on her desk. It was going to be a very long morning.

Boys may come and boys may go And that's all right you see Experience has made me rich And now they're after me

Dani walked through her day in a daze. She felt so spoiled by everyone at the school and didn't understand why she was getting all of this constant attention. She hardly could keep a thought in the back of her mind where her friends were. She hadn't spoken much to Ali as she moved to each class. She seemed to have disappeared on her...only catching her in the bathroom where it seemed like she couldn't get away fast enough. Dani wanted to grab her and give her a big hug. But she was gone. She'd make it up to her later.

And then there was Johnny. She wanted to play and flirt and give him a hard time, but he was just as gone as Ali was. He blew out of his first period class like he was on fire. Dani cocked her head and watched him leave. It was the first time her heart felt afraid that he might not like her anymore. That all of his attention to her was vanished into air. It hurt. It hurt worse than any punch or kick she had received in the past. She was going to give him a piece of her mind when she saw him again. How could he leave her like this and not at least give her one flower or card. What was the matter with him?

She found him sitting on a bench in the middle of the courtyard at lunchtime. None of the other cobra boys was around him. He was by himself, sitting on top of the table fiddling with something in his hands. Danielle couldn't see what it was from where she was at but she was grateful that he was alone. Now was her chance to go over and talk to him. She was intending to punch him in the arm and refuse to go on another date with him...especially tonight. This was not how to treat his girl.

"Excuse me." She said stopping in front of him and put her hands on her hips. He looked up at her, blue eyes sparkling...the sun glinting off of his bangs and eyes and giving him that angelic appearance again, the one that had her insides turning to mush.

"Oh...do I know you?"

"Har Har...very funny! What happened to you?? Where have you been?!" She barely took a breath as she scolded Johnny for leaving her alone for most of the day.

"Did you get enough Valentines? " He said ignoring her rapid fire questions. She stopped abruptly and looked at him with her mouth open, disbelieving what she heard.

"So...that's it..." She said with a smirk.

"I don't even know why you want to hang out with a jerk like me...when you clearly have so many other boys to choose from." Johnny said hanging his head, looking at her through his bangs. He wasn't really upset, more teasingly making Dani feel bad...but he wasn't about to tell her that.

She moved in closer to him. "Yeah...well maybe I don't wanna choose another boy....you thought about that?" She nudged him in the shoulder.

He looked up and smiled, his bright white teeth dazzling her as Ali had promised. "Well that's good for me then...because I wouldn't know who else to give this to." He said holding up a small black box.

Danielle smiled, her whole face lighting up and her dimples in both cheeks made Johnny want to spend the rest of the day kissing them. Just as quickly she acted aloof again...like she didn't care what he had. "Oh...you have something for me then?" She studied her nails, pretending to be disinterested.

"Maybe..."

"May I see it?"

"Are you going out with me tonight?"

"That depends."

"Oh really..."

"Yes...oh really..." Dani said giving him a sassy toss of her hair and holding out her hand.

Johnny put the box behind his back away from her and she pouted and stomped her jellied shoe. She had really learned the art of flirting as her few months as a girl made her almost a natural.

When Johnny brought his hands back around he held a delicate, silvery necklace with a heart shaped pendant. It sparkled and twinkled in the sunlight and Danielle looked at Johnny in shock. It was beautiful. Johnny motioned her to come forward and she did, standing in between his legs as he expertly fastened the necklace around her slender brown neck and he lightly trailed his hands from around her and slowly adjusted her pendant against her red jumper. He never took his eyes from her face.

Dani swallowed hard. She wanted nothing more than to kiss Johnny now. She was overcome with emotion. This was the nicest gift anyone had ever given her and it meant so very much to her that it came from Johnny.

Without thinking....Dani threw her arms around Johnny's neck...surprising him and she held on tight to him, burying her face in his shoulder. Johnny was shocked but quickly recovered, putting a hesitant arm around her waist, gingerly pulling her closer to him.

"Thank you, Johnny...it's...it's perfect." Dani whispered through the tears he felt wetting his cheek.

"So I take that as a yes?" Johnny said softly...pulling her back to look at him.

"Yes!"

'Cause everybody's living in a material world And I am a material girl You know that we are living in a material world And I am a material girl Living in a material world And I am a material girl

But it was oh so much more than that. Dani was in love.

#danielle #minific #johnny #ali #bobby #dutch #tommy #jimmy

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danyka-fendyr · 6 years

Text

As the Raven Flies: Part 3

Okay, everybody, you know the drill at this point. I write, I edit, I queue and post, and then I sit here desperately awaiting your feedback while hoping Tumblr didn’t royally screw this whole thing up. Ah, the joys of posting your fic on a barely functional site and trying to keep a schedule. The good news is, the apocalypse is always tomorrow depending on who you ask, and it’s always 5 o’clock somewhere, so just hang in there kids!

Wordcount: 2641 approximately because I may have written this last minute sue me

Taglist: @dreamwritesimagines @rhabakoli @disengagefrmreality

(Look! We’re at three people in the taglist now!)

Vivien tried to listen in on their conversation, but they went outside to talk, much to her chagrin. Slowly, what little she could hear of their voices faded away. And then she was fast asleep, gone until the next morning.

Vivien hated mornings more than anything else in the world. This was for two reasons, the weekday reason and the weekend reason. The weekday reason was, of course, that she had to go to school. She didn’t exactly hate school, but she would have honestly preferred to just learn of her own volition. Not to mention the anxiety deadlines gave her. Reason number two was just that she had to wake up. There was just something so pleasant about sleeping when you were as exhausted as Vivien was all the time.

“Vivien, sweetie, you have to get up. You have school.” Karen’s voice spoke softly from above her as Vivien groaned, refusing to open her eyes.

It was always so bright during the day. She hated it. She hated everything.

“I don’t want to go. Can’t I just call in sick?”

“Sorry kiddo, but that’s not going to happen unless you start puking into my potted plant.”

“Darn it.” Vivien cracked open an eye to glare balefully up at her current nemesis, former role model.

“I made smoothies,” Karen bribed her.

“Really?”

“Really. I also made you a lunch to take to school and set out some clothes for you. All you have to do is get in the shower.”

“Ugh. I guess.” Vivien crawled out of bed, body limp and floppy. “Thanks Karen.”

“You’re welcome. Now go!”

Vivien hopped in the shower, borrowing Karen’s toiletries. She already had a spare toothbrush here since Karen let her sleep over pretty often. Said she needed to get away from the boys sometimes, and Vivien agreed.

She plugged her iPod into the alarm clock dock, unashamedly playing Love Bug. What? The Jonas Brothers made a comeback. They were totally cool again.

She pulled on the clothes Karen had put together for her that Matt had brought over after finishing his nightly patrol. Admittedly Matt had only been able to find them because after the first time this had happened it had gone so poorly she’d left a few spare sets of clothes laying around in her room where Matt could find them, but she’d give him credit anyway. She also may have done some lip-syncing and dancing, but that was between her, God and the downstairs neighbor.

She headed out to the kitchen, and Karen handed her a smoothie in a Mason jar with a straw. “You, missie, are going to be late, and so am I. Go!”

Vivien swung her backpack (also courtesy of Matt, bless his soul) over her shoulder and ran out the door to catch the bus as Karen pulled on her heels, nearly flashing everyone in the hallway while also narrowly missing landing on her face. Vivien steadied her with one arm before taking the steps two at a time, just barely making it before Janet closed the bus doors. She flashed the elderly lady a smile before finding a seat.

School was what school always was. Mostly boring. Her AP classes were fun, but everything else was painfully easy. It wasn’t that Vivien thought she was smarter than everyone else. In contrast, she was firmly under the impression that everyone else was just very, very, abysmally stupid. Poor creatures.

Eventually, her school day started to come to a close. She survived her second least favorite part, gym, only to make it to the worst part of her day. Every Wednesday, like clockwork, she reported to the school counselor’s office. She wasn’t required to do so by the school, but she was required to do so by her own mind. She had conditioned herself to want to do it by buying herself a soda afterwards. It sort of worked. She still hated it, but she was here, wasn’t she?

She took a seat on the other side of the counselor’s desk, trying to seem pleasant and dare she say it, happy.

“Hello Mrs. Brannigan.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Hello Miss Fairchild. How have you been since we last met?”

“Oh, the usual.” Vivien fake smiled again. She did a lot of that here. “Just working hard at my studies.”

Mrs. Brannigan nodded. “And making new friends.”

Vivien grimaced. “I have friends, Mrs. Brannigan. They just don’t go here.”

Mrs. Brannigan nodded, but she didn’t seem like she believed her. “I just think it would be best if you were friends with some of your peers as well.”

“I’m friendly with my peers. Isn’t that enough?” Vivien jutted her chin out, sharp eyes drilling into the counselor.

Mrs. Brannigan did not balk. Mrs. Brannigan didn’t seem like the kind of person to balk. She seemed like the kind of person to continue blinking placidly even if the building was burning down around her, her mousy brown hair coated in ashes and her dark eyes clouded with smoke.

“I’m afraid not, Vivien.” Oh good. They were dropping the formalities now. “You need friends at school. People you can rely on.”

“I rely on Mr. Carp to give me a good art grade.”

Mrs. Brannigan had the nerve to give her The Look. The sort of look you give someone when you want to convey that you are absolutely done with their nonsense. Vivien was very familiar with this look. Not only had she been on the receiving end of it many times, but she had also leveled it on Matt and Foggy many, many times, even though only the latter half of that duo could see it.

“Do you ever let yourself be happy, Vivien?”

“Yes.” The answer was immediate, and apparently, it was too quick for Mrs. Brannigan.

“What makes you happy then?”

Vivien blinked at her. It wasn’t like she could tell the woman that leaping across rooftops at night and fighting criminals was what made her happy. That would get her put in an institution, at best.

“Music,” was the first thing she choked out.

“How so?” Mrs. Brannigan folded her hands together, placing them on the desk and leaning forward.

“I like dancing to it. You know, just...by myself. It’s fun.”

Mrs. Brannigan nodded. “Well, at least you still know what happiness is.”

Vivien was pretty sure it was meant to be a joke, but it hit a little too close to home. She knew this was supposed to be good for her, but she really did hate it. It wasn’t that Mrs. Brannigan wasn’t a nice lady, but Vivien liked to handle her problems herself. This was entirely too foreign and unpleasant and exposing for her.

“And your family?” Mrs. Brannigan spoke softly. “Have you...been to visit their graves lately?”

It was like someone had found Vivien’s off switch and abruptly flipped it. The light fell out of her eyes, the fake smile from her mouth, and she became just another mannequin sitting in that office, eyes glazed and staring into the distance. She was just...empty.

“Every Sunday. I bring flowers after church.”

“That’s good.” Mrs. Brannigan’s voice was soft, and her face conveyed that she did not think anything that was happening right now was good, an understandable reaction when your patient completely shut down.

“Yeah.” Vivien stared down at her empty palms sitting in her lap.

Uninvited, her brain conjured up an image of them covered in blood. She could hear ringing in her ears, and she closed her eyes tight against it. She shook her head, shaking his voice out of her ears.

Her eyes were wet when she opened them again.

“Well, I think that will be all for today,” Mrs. Brannigan said.

She sounded disappointed, but they both knew she wouldn’t get much farther with Vivien like this. She had tried their first few sessions, but it never worked. At some point, she pushed too hard, and Vivien shut off. They were just working on waylaying that point at the moment.

“You should work on making some new friends though. I’m sure your classmates are all very nice people. Perhaps someone who sits next to you?”

“Okay,” Vivien said numbly.

They both knew she wouldn’t really try. Or maybe she would, and she just wouldn’t try hard enough to succeed. What a familiar feeling that would be.

“I’ll see you for our next session Miss Fairchild.”

“Yeah. See you then. Thank you Mrs. Brannigan.”

Vivien took her backpack, grateful she always saved her counseling sessions for the last part of her day. She swung by one of the vending machines to buy a cream soda before heading out to catch her bus. She popped her headphones on, drinking her soda as the driver pulled the bus forward.

She stared out the window on the way home, trying to think of anything that wasn’t the color red. This was difficult, considering the fact that Matt wore almost entirely red. She did her best though, trying to take herself back to this morning, when she had been happy with Karen, taking breakfast onto the bus.

But the truth of the matter would always be that she could never go back to who she was.

So instead she escaped. Usually her coping mechanism involved punching people, but that was probably not the best option at this very moment in time, so instead she chose a more literal form of escapism. She pulled George Orwell’s 1984 out of her backpack, flipping to the middle of the book. Was it required reading? No. But it was interesting, that was for sure.

She spent the rest of the bus ride drinking cream soda and reading her book, avoiding the attention of other students. Lately, that hadn’t been much trouble. There had been a certain amount of morbid fascination with her after everything first happened, but it only took a few months for that to wear off, and then came what always came to survivors of great tragedies. She became a social pariah, someone no one wanted to be around or actively interact with if they could help it. After all, no one liked a reminder of the darker moments of their lives, and the walking talking ones were the worst kind. Vivien knew this better than anyone.

She used to have friends. Of course she had. You didn’t get to your senior year of high school without ever having any friends at all, fake or otherwise, and Vivien had the oddly good fortune to be something resembling not unpopular. This fell apart quickly though after her own great tragedy.

Some of them decided that she was simply no longer worth socializing with. That might have hurt if she hadn’t been dealing with far more pressing losses. The others she managed to slowly push away. It started with her new, unapproachable personality. She was pointedly aloof, exaggeratedly lifeless. She didn’t want anything to do with anyone, that much was clear.

She had a few friends who were more persistent than that though. Sometimes she missed them. Right now she missed them. Maybe they had pitied her, maybe they had loved her. It was hard for Vivien to tell the difference these days. Either way, she had to actively tell them to go away, scream at them until they ran for the hills. After everything that had happened to her, she just wanted to be left alone.

She just wanted to be left alone.

“Hey, Fairchild.”

Vivien’s eyes snapped open. She had closed them, head resting against the back of the seat at an awkward angle that would have left her staring at the ceiling if she had kept her eyes open. After a few moments of that undesirable view, she changed her mind and decided to rest her eyes for a minute.

The face she now saw hovering above her own was disappointingly familiar. Wide blue eyes, half a smile, and night black hair that was longer than it probably should be, but not long enough to necessarily be considered long. She only knew him because he had been the only person in the entire school not to spend a brief period trying to bother her as much as he possibly could during the brief interim where she was a person of interest. She sort of didn’t hate him for that, which was unfortunate, because she was pretty sure she was about to.

For a long moment, Vivien considered telling him to go away. Mrs. Brannigan’s voice echoed in her head though, begging her to just please, please try. She sighed, rolling her eyes before rolling her neck, turning around and deciding to play nice.

“Hello Hunter. Your hair is stupid.”

He laughed. She had known he would. He was good at that. Laughing in the face of adversity.

“Thanks. So, how have you been?”

“Oh, the usual. Annoyed. Unapproachable. Trying to decide if I should be goth or punk.”

“Ah, but your prep aesthetic is working so well for you!” He said, with feigned dismay.

Vivien cracked a smile, despite her best efforts. “Yeah, well, I’ve been keeping an eye on Jessica Jones, and her whole leather jacket thing seems to really be working out for her.”

“Fair point. I would like to counter with the fact that it is the woman that makes the clothes, not the clothes that make the woman.” James Hunter settled his arms on the back of my otherwise empty bus seat, resting his head on them.

“If that’s true, then why should I keep the prep clothes?” she countered.

She thought for sure that would stump him, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Because I like them. Not that my opinion particularly matters, as you have made very clear, but wouldn’t you rather have one of us insignificant fools like your clothes than none of us insignificant fools?”

I thought about it for a moment. “Alright. I’ll keep the button downs, Hunter, but only because I don’t want to go shopping.”

“Heaven forbid you have to buy anything that isn’t a sweater vest, am I right?”

“I don’t wear sweater vests.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Sometimes you do.”

He was right. Sometimes she did.

“They’re hand me downs, okay?”

He took his head off his hands to raise them in the air, a gesture of surrender. “Hey, I’m not judging Fairchild.”

“I just want you to know that I’m only talking to you because my therapist said I need friends.” She wasn’t sure why she told him that.

“Well, normally I would say that Mrs. Brannigan is full of it, but I think she might actually be right about that. You’ve been painfully alone since the beginning of the year, are you aware of that?”

“Acutely so.”

“I would ask what happened there, but that doesn’t really seem like any of my business.”

Vivien raised an eyebrow. She had...not been expecting him to say something so utterly self-aware.

“Not yet, anyway. I expect you’ll want to be friends first before you tell me why you have none.”

“And who said we were going to be friends, Hunter?”

“I did. Good news Fairchild, you are no longer beholden to Mrs. Brannigan’s unreasonable demands. I promise to be low maintenance.”

She squinted at him before the corner of her lips quirked up a little bit. “Cross your heart?”

“And hope to die.”

The smile fell right off her face. “Don’t do that.”

“Right. Sorry. Uhh...hope to get high.”

Vivien snorted with the unexpected humor of it. Everyone knew Hunter was clean as a whistle.

“There you go. We’ll have you smiling again in no time, Fairchild.”

“No promises Hunter.”

The bus screeched to a halt as she spoke.

“As much as I would like to extort some promises out of you in turn, I do believe this is your stop, Vivien.”

She looked up, and sure enough, they were in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen.

“See you tomorrow.” He smiled at her again, and she told herself that she only smiled back out of obligation.

“See you tomorrow, James.”

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