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isthisthingeven0n · 5 years ago

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not so secret santa : j.w

with natalie’s help, jeff is your secret santa this year and proves to be the perfect opportunity to tell you how he feels (1.7k)

all of my links

requested: yes, by anon - thanks for the idea angel! warnings: none

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK - IT IS ALL MY OWN WRITING

“Come on, I’m not asking for much.” Jeff pleads as Natalie remains silent, scrolling through her phone. “Please, Nat.”

Glancing up from her phone, Natalie can’t ignore the puppy dog look Jeff is presenting. A heavy sigh leaves her lips as she lowers her phone. “You better have a good gift in mind, I’m not sacrificing my secret Santa just for you to fuck up.” Natalie states.

Smiling brightly, Jeff launches onto Natalie as he hugs her tightly. “Thanks, Natalie. I’ve got the perfect thing in mind.”

“I’ve got conditions to it though.” Natalie muffles through Jeff’s arms as he leans back, allowing Natalie to breathe. “You have to get her this,” Holding her phone up, Natalie watches as Jeff’s brows furrow together. “and, tell her how you feel. As I know I’m not the only one who can’t stand you tiptoeing around her anymore.”

“She’s got a point.” David chimes in as he wanders into the living room as Ilya files behind him, nodding in agreement.

“Oh come on, guys. It’s not that bad.” Jeff shrugs his shoulder, but the looks exchanged between his friends says otherwise.

“Dude, Scott was filming the other day and recorded you looking at Y/n in awe as she worked out.” Ilya comments and Jeff knows there isn’t any point denying it, he just can’t help himself when you’re around.

“She’s got a good body and strength.” Jeff comments confidently. “Besides, Y/n doesn’t see me that way, she has said plenty of times how much I mean to her as a friend.” Jeff reminds the others as his heart sinks back in his chest, remembering just last week when he went over to yours.

“What was so urgent?” Jeff asks with wide eyes as he pants lightly whilst you stand in your doorway, wearing your pyjamas as you rub your tired eyes.

“Oh, sorry,” You laugh innocently. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Jeff. I just, I needed help making Christmas cookies.”

Resting his hand against your door frame, Jeff exhales deeply. “You texted me, stating you had an emergency at 10pm, just to make Christmas cookies?”

Nodding in response, you hold your door open further. “So is that a yes you’ll help?” Your smile starts to grow as Jeff steps into your apartment, rolling the sleeves of his hoodie up.

“Where do you wanna start?” He asks, admitting defeat as you happily clap behind him, a spring in your step as you follow him into your kitchen.

“Thank you, thank you, Jeff! You’re the best, my Mom will adore these knowing they’re from her favourite of my friends.” You comment, missing the way Jeff’s smile drops for a second before standing beside him in the kitchen as you gather the ingredients, prepping your kitchen knowing the mess that is about to follow.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Taylor sings as all eyes turn to her. “I’m just saying.” Taylor holds her hands up as Ella nods in agreement.

“It’s not too late to back down from being her secret Santa, Jeff.” Natalie nudges him, but Jeff shakes his head.

“I’m not backing down and like I said, I’ve got the perfect gift.”

“So we’re actually organised this time?” You ask, looking around at everyone sat in David’s living room whilst David sits beside one of the many Christmas trees in his house.

Across the room, Jeff tries to remain composed as Natalie sends him a reassuring smile, knowing two of those gifts under the tree have your name on it and a confession to follow.

“For the first time, it seems so.” David chuckles as he rubs his hands together, scanning over the various presents underneath the tree. “So, how do you guys wanna do this?”

Scott rises to his feet, adorning his Santa hat as he remains dressed as Mrs Claus from recording his music video earlier today. “I’ll hand them out.” He suggests and everyone agrees.

Jeff watches as Scott hands out presents to everyone, the joy radiating in the room as Christmas songs play faintly in the background.

“And this one is for Y/n.” Scott walks over to you, handing you the soft present wrapped neatly with a ribbon and perfectly tied bow on top.

“Wow, who paid for gift wrap?” You chuckle, looking around at everyone as they remain silent, no one admitting who their secret Santa was just yet.

Watching in earnest, Jeff is distracted as he’s handed his present, quickly catching your smile as you look away from him.

“Okay, go ahead and unwrap your gifts.” David states as the sound of paper tearing fills the room and excited responses follow suit.

Yet, Jeff puts his gift to one side as he focuses on you unwrapping yours.

Ripping the paper off, you pause as you look at the gift on your lap. “What’d you get, Y/n?” Natalie asks you, a bright smile on her lips as you remain quiet.

Feeling his heart rest in his throat, Jeff takes a deep breath as you lift the hoodie out from the paper. “I, this is just,” Struggling to form words, you look around at everyone before your eyes land on Jeff. You silently mouth a thank you as tears fill your eyes.

No words are exchanged between you both as everyone continues to film for their channels and social media, slowly filing out of the room until it’s just you and Jeff sat in silence.

“I thought you might like it.” Jeff speaks up as he rests his arms on his thighs, trying to suppress his leg from shaking as you hold the hoodie in your hands, your fingers running across the fabric.

Lifting your head up, Jeff’s heart melts as tears fall from your eyes. “You did this, for me?” Your voice remains soft as Jeff nods. “But why?” Curiosity encroaches in your tone as you wipe your eyes, Jeff taking the chance to sit down beside you.

“Well, I remember that time your Mom came to visit you.” Jeff starts, remembering the day clearly despite it being months ago.

“Oh honey, I brought you something!” Your Mom exclaims as she reaches into her bag whilst Jeff busies himself in your kitchen, having come over to help you film as he knew your Mom was visiting.

“Mom, I told you I don’t need anything.” You roll your eyes playfully, just as Jeff walks into the room with three mugs.

“Thank you, dear, you’re a true gentleman.” Your Mom gushes to Jeff as he chuckles, shaking his head before sitting down in your armchair. “It’s in here somewhere,” Your Mom mutters under her breath before grabbing something and lifting it out.

“Mom, why did you bring that?” You ask, trying to conceal the fact you were beginning to get hot from embarrassment whilst Jeff watched curiously.

Holding your old teddy up, your Mom raises an eyebrow to you. “Honey, you loved this teddy, you brought it everywhere! Honestly, Jeff, she could never sleep without it!” A laugh is shared between Jeff and your Mom whilst you internally groan.

“I’m an adult Mom, I don’t need my teddy bear.” You sigh, but the sight of the ratty teddy bear does warm your heart. “But, since you brought it all this way, I guess I’ll keep it.” You reach out, taking the teddy in your hands as you keep it on your lap, the sight something Jeff hopes he’ll never forget.

“But, how?” A laugh escapes your lips as you run your index finger across the embroidery sitting on the left breast of the hoodie, an exact replica of your teddy bear down to the bowtie around its neck.

Jeff shrugs a shoulder in response. “I have connections.” He states. “And since you always steal my hoodies, I thought I’d give you one to keep and make it personal to you.” He adds, watching as you slip it on.

The sleeves hang over your hands, it clearly doesn’t fit but your smile grows. You loved Jeff’s hoodies as they felt like a warm hug from him, enveloped in his aftershave even if he wasn’t there with you.

“I just, this is the most thoughtful present anyone has ever gotten me, Jeff.” You admit as Jeff rests his hand on your cheek, wiping away the stray tears that fall as you sniff quietly.

“There’s erm, something else I got for you too.” Jeff mutters as you focus on his eyes as your hand rests on his thigh, the distance between you both minimising.

“Okay?” You chuckle under your breath.

“You have to close your eyes first if that’s alright with you.” Jeff asks as you nod, complying as you close your eyes.

Taking a steady breath, Jeff closes his eyes and leans in until his lips are on yours. It takes a moment for you to respond, and once you do, the kiss deepens as you lift your arms up, wrapping them around his neck as you lean back on the sofa, Jeff leaning over you.

Pulling away, you rest your forehead against Jeffs. “Was that the present or something you just felt like doing?” You question, rubbing your lips together as Jeff smirks.

“A bit of both.” He admits. “But I like you, Y/n, a lot. And if you’ll let me, I’d love to take you out sometime.”

“I thought you’d never ask, Jeff.” You breathe out, kissing Jeff softly as the sound of applause interrupts your moment.

Breaking apart, you look up to see all your friends stood with their phones and cameras.

"It's a Christmas miracle!” Natalie yells as Todd stands behind her, his arms around her waist. “There’s still one more present, and now I think you might actually have a use for it.” She motions to the small gift on the sofa, and Jeff reaches over for it.

Passing it to you, you unwrap it and bury your face in the sleeves of Jeff’s hoodie.

“Stay safe you guys.” David laughs whilst Natalie winks to you.

“I’m sure we’ll put them to good use.” Jeff mutters into your ear as you look up to him, quirking a brow before kissing him once more.

“Just you wait, Wittek.” You giggle. “Just you wait.”

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love-toxin · 4 years ago

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no thoughts head empty just ilya going on a rampage on the death row inmates because they got too handsy with you one day. now you’re hiding under one of the inmates bed and you can hear the clicking of his shoes and the blunt axe he’d used. the place is drenched and there’s a body beside you and you can smell the blood and death coming from the walls – all while he’s cooing at you to come out.

hmnnhmhnhhnhggmhngmgmgmgnhmggnggg......

It hadn't been long since Ilya lost his mind, but where you are now, it felt like hours had been sucked down the drain. The axe had come from nowhere it seemed, but it found its target and buried itself in the skull of the inmate trying to pull you into the showers with him. The image scalded your mind of his blood spewing in all directions, including your face and the hands of the man that would have brought about his demise either way.

That was the most frightening part. This massacre was allowed--nobody was preventing Ilya from chasing down every prisoner in sight, weapon raised as he brought the blade dulled by bone into their skulls and spines and stomachs. The guards had filed away into another block and sealed this one off, as was evident by the huge clanging sounds of the heavy doors being closed, and the kachunk of the locks being secured so as to not let anyone escape his wrath. Even now you could hear the screams of someone down the hall falling victim to the warden's violent anger….and the blood pooling around the inmate just a few feet away soaked into your jumpsuit in a warm, uncomfortably sticky mess. Under the bed was the last thing you could think of, the one place you might be able to hide out until all the blood dried and the screams ended, and his fury melted away for the moment.

But then the clicking started, and you slipped a hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds of your breathing growing panicked, your eyes squeezing shut to block the last bit of your reality out. Except for those wretched sounds.

Click. Click. Click.

His shoes were accompanied by the scrape of his blade against the cement floor. He'd already been by this block, already ended all the lives here--he was on the hunt for something else.

Click. Click.

The sickening sound of a prisoner's body being swung at made you flinch. Just making sure they were good and dead.

Click.

"Are you going to come out, little bird?"

No, you wanted to scream. Following the orders of that sweet, low voice would only result in a punishment worse than death. You wished you could move to get out the adrenaline that was making your body vibrate, but all you could do was let your eyes flutter open to check how close he had gotten.

You expected to be face to face with those polished leather shoes. Not with his eyes that glowed so red they froze you in place. How had you not heard him kneel down to look you in the eyes?

His mouth split into a grin. Your time for hiding yourself away was over.

"Sweet thing...come on out, now. The bad man is gone. They're all gone."

If you could have, you would have squashed yourself even further into the corner underneath the bed--but there was literally nowhere else to go, and Ilya could sense the panic rising in your expression.

"Not still frightened, are you darling? I don't blame you, you know. You don't really belong here anyways…"

With his tone still so gentle and soft, despite the blood that caked his chest and poured down his cheek, Ilya carefully reached a hand out to you as if he were trying to coax a hurt little animal. And you desperately didn't want to admit that you were considering taking it quite a lot.

"Do you want to come out? We'll walk right out of this place together...and you will never see another speck of blood for the rest of your life."

You wanted to say no, every cell inside your shaking body was screaming for you to refuse--but in such a state, you couldn't even stop your hand from raising up from where it had been pulled against your chest, and slowly, unsteadily placing it into his warm, callused one.

"That's my darling. What a good, well-behaved thing you are, little bird."

#anonymous #yandere ocs #ilya #ilya x reader #love-toxin

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boxboysandotherwhump · 4 years ago

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Ilya's first day at the ranch

Thank you so much @orchidscript for helping me with this one <3

CW: past whump mentioned, scarring mentioned, past abuse mentioned,

Last week, Ilya’s world consisted of nothing more but a fuggy room and dusty window. Of dinner leftovers he’d tried to eat with mangled hands.

Now, a hospital visit and some nights spent on a fold-out couch in the welfare office later, he followed a blonde young man around the ranch's property on legs still wobbly from the six hour drive to this new placement.

That social worker, Miss Maria Mullens, hadn’t been the one behind the steering wheel, but she’d pressed a backpack into his hands full of clothes that weren’t coming apart at the seams and wished him good luck. Ilya had nearly teared up on a pitstop at a pull-in, where he’d changed into a new soft sweater and pants that hung only a little too loose and found a pair of brand-new leather gloves neatly folded atop the clothes.

They felt so much more pleasant against his skin in the late July heat, compared to the scratchy wollen ones.

“Ilya,” the blonde guy’s -- Matthew -- work boots clicked over the stone path to what looked like stables. “Say, do you have any experiences with horses?”

“No,” Ilya murmured upon entering. Soft sighs and snorts echoed through the long, wide hallway flanked by spacious boxes. BIgger than most rooms he's ever been kept in. The smell of hay and heated skin was intense here and the floor was stained in some places with something Ilya hoped wasn’t poop. He squashed down his urge to side step them. Not wanting to appear too big-city. “Only ever seen them on tv. Horse holidays aren't-... They’re not really foster-life, ya know?”

“They’re part of yours, now.” Matthew beamed.

Almost blinded by the others' sunshine brightness, Ilya peered into the box next to him, and froze. He knew the creature inside existed, of course he did, but he hadn’t really thought they would look so-

“...tiny.”

“Yes, meet our newest family member -- apart from you. This is Susie. She’s four whole days old, as of today.” Matthew ran over with pride. Voice warm and steady, breast swollen, and a stupid blissfull expression plastered over his face. As if he’d born that small spindly legged thing himself. It was ridiculous, really.

Tiny soft looking nostrils flared, inhaling Ilya’s scent. The small creature left its mothers side, stalked over with stumbling steps, ears perked up in interest.

Ilyas fingers twitched with the urge to pet it. He burrowed his hands deep into his pockets instead, bit back a smile. “They’re called, uhm, foals? Right?”

“So you do know a bit about horses.”

Bristling under the tease Ilya snapped, “I lived in the city, not under a rock,” but it lacked any real bite.

“Alright, alright, city boy.” Matthew lifted his hands, cheeks dimpling and chest trembling with suppressed laughter that spilled past his lips in a breathless chuckle. “Wanna pet your very first foal? Their noses are the softest thing you’ll ever touch.”

“No!” Ilya blurted, stumbled backwards, eyes snapping to the foal. It answered his wild eyed stare with curiously twitching ears. A friendly nicker.

“No I- '' Panic prickled up his palms. His hands grew clammy, the leather gloves stuck to his skin. Ilya swallowed. “That wouldn’t be- I can’t.”

“Hey, hey there. It’s alright. You don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna. But-.” Straight, white teeth worried at his plush lips. His broad hands fidgeted with the drawstring of his grey hoodie, wrapped it around his finger and let it go, letting it flop against his chest. “Listen. I know it’s weird but I read your file. Have to for every newbie, and... If it's because of your scars you really don’t--.”

“Itain’tboutthat,” Ilya spluttered. Panic frenzied shame compressed his vowels and syllables into one single hectic exclamation. The solid stone ground felt more like a waterbed under his feet and Ilya took one deep shuddering breath. “My scars-. It has nothing to do with my scars. It’s- I…” Shame chaffed away at his voice until it cracked, more rasp than whisper. “I’m wicked. Cursed.”

“Ilya. You’re magic, not cursed.”

That flicker of sadness in Matthew's tone hit him like a kick in the chest. Ilya didn’t need to look at him to know his face was pinched with pity. He failed to hold back a snort. All derisive anger. It made an honest man of him.

Matthews boots clicked over stone as he took a step towards him. “There is no shame in being different.”

“Oh and what do you know about it?! Wannabe social worker, taking care of some strays, working for a good cause, living the pony farm dream life. Zatknis!” The words burst out of Ilya’s mouth like an angry bee swarm. Eager to sting, to pump poison under Matthews skin, to scare him off.

There was no way to take them back, to unhurt the boy staring at him, blue eyes blown wide in bewilderment. Those stupid dimples had vanished alongside that stupid charming smile. Ilyas pulse picked up, hammered in his throat, quick as the footsteps of a frightened child running to its mother.

He had no mother to hide behind, no arms to find solace in. Hanging his head Ilya prepared for the yelling sure to come, the blow, or kick, or spit in his face.

“Sorry.”

Please forgive me.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing. I overstepped.”

Ilya glanced up, heart stopping, skip-stutter-starting into another wild frenzy. This wasn’t how things were supposed to happen. His face crumpled in confusion over the honest concern in those blue, blue eyes.

It suddenly became very hard to breathe around the tight, burning knot lodged in his throat.

How the hell was he supposed to answer?

His mouth opened, closed, opened again, like a petrified fish, hauled out of water and slapped onto the cutting board.

Ilya turned on his heel and ran from this place he wouldn’t ever belong.

There was no way to build a life filled with soft things and fragile creatures and warm smiles, not when his hands were destined to destroy everything they touched.

#whump #whump writing #recovering whumpee #scared whumpee #magical whump #magical whumpee #wizard whumpee #cursed whumpee #past child abuse

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cinebration · 5 years ago

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Cordial (Napoleon Solo x Reader) [Part 1]

Premise: Napoleon Solo, Illya Kuryakin, and Gaby Teller are assigned a new mission—one that requires a fourth to round off in “married” pairs: you.

Warnings: none

Gif Source: dianahprince

“I work better as a bachelor,” Solo said.

Waverly smiled patronizingly in his direction. “While I admire your ability to seduce your way through rough situations, the target is expecting one Sofía Rosales and her American businessman husband.” He looked pointedly at Ilya and Gaby. “Can you feign an American accent, Kuryakin? Ms. Teller, are you fluent in Spanish? No? That settles it, then.”

Solo frowned, looked away as he gathered his thoughts. Being partnered with Kuryakin had been bad enough, but at least they hadn’t needed to pretend they were married. That allowed him to continue with his serial womanizing—mentioned in his file, to his amusement—which more often than not helped in a pinch. It may have gone sideways in the Vinciguerra affair, but he didn’t have a perfect record.

“It isn’t the end of the world, Solo,” Waverly assured him.

“If Ilya could play pretend, so can you,” Gaby quipped.

Solo shot her a nonplussed glance. She smirked in response.

The intercom on Waverly’s desk buzzed. “She’s here, sir.”

“Excellent. Send her in.”

Sighing through his nose, Solo turned toward the door, an uninterested look on his face.

You stepped into the room, not quite confident so much as bored. Solo stared at your flat expression, lips curling up into a smile of disbelief. The last thing he had expected was to see you matching his disinterest.

Your gaze swept the room, landing on him almost immediately. He waited for the inevitable head-to-toe sweep that all women seemed to give him. He was, after all, classically handsome and dressed to the nines in a $1,000 suit.

You gave him the sweep, but the look in your eyes when you met his gaze surprised him once again.

You were unimpressed.

“Ah, yes,” Waverly said, standing and introducing you to everyone in the room. “This is Gaby Teller, Ilya Kuryakin, and Napoleon Solo.”

Gaby smiled and extended a hand. “It’s nice to have another woman around. I’m tired of being the only one with common sense in the group.”

You smirked. “Consider me your reprieve.”

Ilya nodded curtly to you, though he smiled warmly. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

At last, you turned to Solo, your expression suddenly flat again. He extended a hand. Shaking it primly, you let your lips pull back in a cold smile. He cocked his head but kept mum, amusement glittering momentarily in his eyes.

“Good, now that everyone has been introduced,” Waverly said, “I have for you here the dossier on the mission.”

You reached for the file, only for Solo to snatch it from your reach. Suppressing a smile, he turned away and flipped open the slim folder. His eyes scanned the first page.

He immediately turned back to Waverly. “Biological warfare?”

“Quite a threat, I’m afraid, and certainly more insidious than a nuclear bomb. At least you can see those coming.” Waverly flashed his teeth, chuckling to himself quietly. Gesturing to you, he asked, “Do you have any questions?”

“Yes,” you said. The crisp tone of your voice drew Solo’s attention. “How would you like me to deal with his philandering?”

Waverly exhaled a tense chuckle as Solo faced you, lips pulling into a thin line. “Philandering.” Not a question. A simple statement, delivered in an almost accusatory tone.

You met his stare. “Your reputation precedes.”

“And yours does not.”

Your gaze swept over him again. “I prefer subtlety.”

Solo clenched his teeth, feeling something almost like genuine anger rising up the back of his spine.

“I like her,” Gaby declared.

“She is a most refreshing addition to the team,” Ilya quipped.

Solo’s curdling mood turned sour. Tucking the folder under his arm, his back ramrod straight, he smiled thinly and said, “If you’ll excuse me, I would rather enjoy my last hour as a bachelor before I tether myself to a deadweight.”

He swept out of the room. As the door closed behind him, he heard Ilya’s low chuckle and Gaby’s light laughter. He felt your eyes boring into his back. It only made his hackles rise higher, bunching his broad shoulders. He had been insulted before, but there was something different to this. There had been something in your eye, despite your flat expression, that had irked him.

At least, he thought venomously, this fake marriage doesn’t have to be cordial.

He resolved to find out all he could on you. The thought hastened his long stride.

#Napoleon Solo x Reader #Napoleon Solo #Napoleon Solo imagine #Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill imagine #The Man from UNCLE #The Man from U.N.C.L.E.

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apprenticevida · 4 years ago

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Nuestra Alcoba Azul 🍋🔞

Word Count: 2,575 sorry I got carried away with this one

Pairings: Jinana/Vida

Synopsis: tear the bitch apart With renewed confidence Vida gets a taste of what the masquerade is all about

Notes: Day 3 of @midsummer-masquerade Day 3: Denial, Impact Play, some Worship and Collars

Thank you @the-iron-orchid for letting me work with Jinana! I hope I did hir justice.

Alcoba Azul by Lila Downs

Warnings: SPICY LEMON. Impact play, voyeurism, Praise and Punishment, BDSM, biting, masturbation, cunnilingus, orgasm denial/control, squirting, humiliation, subspace, nipple play, manual sex/no insertion

After bidding their lovers farewell and good luck, Vida saunters out of the room. With a renewed confidence in their sense of self and sensuality, they’re ready to experience everything the Masquerade has to offer.

As the witch wanders through the halls they hear cries of ecstasy from various rooms. Some are behind closed doors, others open to allow guests to join. Every once in a while they pass by a room with a shimmering barrier in the doorway; it’s meant to allow voyeurs to enjoy the show while allowing the performers the security of knowing they won’t be interrupted, a friendly guest informs them as Vida sips from a glass of vodka.

When they eventually find the grand ballroom, Vida discovers it’s been transformed into a large aftercare playroom. Plush beds with comforting blankets are spread out on the floor; massage oils, balms, and decanters of water are readily available on numerous low tables throughout the room.

They make a mental note to stop by before the end of the night.

Continuing their exploration brings them to a hallway full of “vendor” tables. No coins are being exchanged: the invitation explicitly stated that any toys or accessories procured were The Countess’s gifts to attendees.

A leatherworker’s wares catch their eye. Harnesses, leashes, and collars all colors of the rainbow are on display. With the help of the proprietor, they find a collar that fits snug against their throat. The band is black with intricate swirls and spirals carved into the leather with a gold O-ring at the center. Committing the name of the woman’s shop to memory (Rhett’s Wares), Vida promises to visit on their next trip to the market.

With the collar they announce their submissive inclinations to potential playmates. It’s thrilling to feel eyes roving over their figure and for now Vida is content with only being seen.

When a peacock-haired figure catches their eye Vida decides they’re ready for more.

Despite hir petite figure the mage radiates power and confidence. There’s something about hir that has ensorcelled Vida. They down the rest of their drink before walking over.

S/he’s lounging on a chaise opposite Nadia, who, as luck would have it, has excused herself to visit other revelers.

While they’re generally thrilled to please multiple dominants, seems a little too much too soon.

“Hello, I’m Vida.” The witch waves shyly when they’ve approached the unfamiliar mage.

The figure elegantly extends a delicate henna-laced hand

“Jinana,” s/he responds in a warm, husky tone. “A pleasure.” S/he eyes Vida top and down, evaluating them.

Vida takes hir hand and brushes their lips against hir knuckles.

“You’re… really beautiful.” Vida breathes against the lilac-scented skin. “Would you like to play with me?”

“Hmmm, that depends, Vida.” S/he rolls their name on hir tongue like a piece of candy. “What do you want to play?”

—————

It doesn’t take long to negotiate the scene and its boundaries. Surprisingly, there’s little they disagree on and their hard limits are the same.

Jinana leads Vida to a cobalt room decked with sapphire blue drapery and pristine white furniture.

“There’s a bath in the back, go freshen up and I’ll sort things out here.” S/he orders, gesturing to a folding screen that separates the spare room and alcove hiding the bath.

Vida’s thankful for the simplicity of their costume: once the clincher is unlaced they easily slide out of the crimson robe.

Their bath is diligent, if rushed. They don’t want to keep Jinana waiting, but s/he made hir preference for a bathed partner clear. They find a vial of vanilla oils to massage in when they’re dry and dress in a flowing white bathrobe before they return to their playmate.

There is a sawhorse in front of the door and two white chairs in the center of the midnight blue carpet. Jinana is seated in one with an end table with toys and vials next to hir. S/he gestures with an elegant hand for Vida to sit across from hir.

“Before we get started, priya, are you sure about the door?”

Vida sits in the chair, glancing at the closed door behind Jinana.

“Yes, ser. I’m sure.”

A smile plays on Jinana’s lips.

“As you wish.”

A flick of hir wrist and the door swings open, a shimmering barrier forming to separate the room and the hall.

…to allow voyeurs to enjoy the show while allowing the performers the security of knowing they won’t be interrupted…

“Now Vida” Jinana crosses one toned leg over the other. “How do you like to play?”

“Well, usually—”

“Ah-ah!” S/he chides, wagging one manicured finger towards hir companion. “Show, don’t tell.”

Vida feels their face flush as a shiver runs up their back. This was going to be a fun experience.

Vida catches their lower lip between their teeth as they nod in understanding. They spread their legs slowly, knowing the angle of the chair means Jinana’s view will be shared with any onlookers.

First they trail a few fingers down the side of their face and neck. When their hand meets the robe’s neckline they gently glide the silk away from their chest. A sensitive nipple pebbles under the fabric and hardens when it meets the cool air. With one hand they tweak and pull the nub while the other hand repeats the dance on the opposite side. When their breathing gets harder to control the shrug of the robe entirely.

With heavy lidded eyes they meet Jinana’s gaze, hir chin resting on one hand. The other holds a riding crop in an almost listless manner. There’s maybe a meter between the magic users; Vida can clearly see the fire burning in Jinana’s eyes behind hir silver filigree mask

Upping the ante, Vida let’s one hand stroke down their belly and to their already dripping cunt. It’s impossible for them to hold back a moan when one cold finger slides against their hard and swollen clit.

“Remember priya, no coming without permission.” Jinana’s voice is low and hir eyes dark.

“Yesser,” Vida slurs. Something about hir energy makes Vida want to bend to hir every command.

For a while the only noise in the room is the slick sound of the witch’s ministrations, punctuated by moans and gasps as they try to keep a steady rhythm.

By now a few guests have gathered by the door. Vida can hear the susurrus of conversation, but either the partygoers are too far away or Vida is too far gone to make it out.

The chair beneath then begins to creak as their hips buck against their hand. Their breathing comes quicker now. They’re close so close and they begin to lose their sense of control and

“Stop.”

Vida freezes with a gasp. Their cunt clenches in anticipation, as if to hold on to the edge of their release. Jinana stands from hir chair and taps the riding crop against hir free hand. The leather makes a satisfying thwack against the henna flower on hir palm.

“On your knees, priya.”

In the foggy subspace it takes a moment too long for hir words to register. Vida feels a hand push them from the chair to kneel in front of Jinana. Their head jerks around in an attempt to find an intruder but the room is empty behind them. Jinana taps their cheek with the crop and uses the leather implement to make them face hir.

S/he makes a tutting noise with her tongue in disapproval. “I thought you were going to behave. Although,” s/he lets the crop graze against their neck. “It seems someone else has had to call on your attention before.” They press the tag of the crop against the bruises on their neck and their eyes flutter shut at the pleasure-pain.

“Still, you did give a riveting performance. Would you like a reward, sweetling?”

Vida is dazed and their eyes won’t focus, but they innately know hir question needs an answer.

“Oh, yes please, ser. I’ll take whatever you think I deserve.”

For a moment Jinana is reminded of hir Ilya. They’re both very pretty when they’re on their knees begging in adoration. S/he files the thought away for later as s/he removes Vida’s mask.

Now, however, s/he lifts one foot into the chair behind Vida and pulls the front off hir dress aside.

“Well then?” S/he quirks a brow at hir submissive.

Vida’s eyes jump between the sights before and above them. They’re trying desperately to form the question in their mind.

“May I please touch you? With my hands I mean?”

Jinana smirks as s/he responds. “For now. Until I decide otherwise.”

Vida adjusts their position so Jinana’s thigh rests on their shoulder. They rest one hand on top of hir leg and the other on hir opposite hip. At first Vida wets their lips and leans their head forward before they stop. An idea pops into their hazy mind. They turn towards the leg on their shoulder and begin to trail soft kisses up Jinana’s thigh, squeezing hir leg every so often.

Their partner hums approval and threads hir fingers through Vida’s hair. Hir nails card through their silky curls; a low moan rumbles in Vida’s throat and into Jinana’s soft flesh.

The soft kisses on Jinana’s leg turn to kitten licks and then open-mouthed kisses until they slowly reach the apex of hir thigh. They take one more adoring glance at the mage before dragging the flat of their tongue along hir slit.

The smell of lilac mingled with Jinana’s musk makes a heady combination. Vida almost feels drunk off of their lust. As they lap at hir sex they moan into hir, fingers pressing into Jinana to anchor themself. They swirl the tip of their tongue against hir clit before gently sucking.

Jinana lets out a groan of pleasure and tightens hir grip to guide Vida to the right spot. S/he gives gentle praise when Vida begins to work their mouth against her. The hand Vida placed on Jinana’s hip slowly moves higher. They caress hir side, hir stomach, hir sternum before brushing their fingertips against a nipple.

With a gasp Jinana tugs Vida’s head away with one hand and snatches their wrist with the other.

“That,” s/he sighs. “Is cheating.”

Vida’s eyes go wide. Gripped as they are, they're at hir mercy. “Are you going to punish me, ser?” Their voice is thick with arousal and hope.

“Cheating does get punished.” S/he jerks hir head at the sawhorse and releases Vida. “Go.”

Still on their knees, Vida glances at the wooden structure. They swallow. “Which way would you have me face, ser?”

“Away from the door.”

Vida didn’t realize they could get any wetter than they were. Their legs are slick with their own lubricant as they stand and walk to the carpentry table. The table is at a height where they have to keep their feet spread wide when they bend over. Their face is red with embarrassment and it’s only made worse when they can’t keep their cunt from twitching from need and excitement.

“Five for cheaters. Count aloud,” is the only warning Jinana gives before the crop makes contact across the swell of their ass.

“One!” They shout at the floor.

The next strike is focused on one cheek.

“Two!” Their brow furrows.

The third lands on the other side.

“Th-three!” Vida can feel tears well up in their eyes. They have to rest their head against their forearms.

There’s a pause. A small warm hand strokes up their back and Vida’s head jolts upward.

“Do you need a break?” Jinana’s voice is as soothing as hir caress.

After a breath Vida shakes their head.

“I-I can take two more, ser.” They swallow and reposition themselves, pushing their ass out farther and widening their stance.

Jinana grins in amusement before getting back to work.

The fourth strike is at the top of their thighs, just enough to make a satisfying sound without stinging.

“Four!” Vida cries out loud and clear.

The final blow lands on their sex, the wet sound echoes in their mind.

“Five!” Vida’s voice is somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Their punishment is over, but neither of them have come yet.

“Very good, priya. You’ve done so well!” There’s genuine joy in Jinana’s voice and Vida’s heart swells. The shorter magician helps straighten the pliant Vida up and turns them to face the door.

Without their mask Vida somehow feels more vulnerable than they did when fully displaying their sex.

“You haven’t come yet, have you?” Jinana’s voice is almost taunting as Vida shakes their head in response.

“I’ll need to fix that. Sit down.” S/he summons a cushion onto the sawhorse and with one hand pressing on their shoulder guides them to sit. S/he walks behind Vida and begins to stroke one warm hand along their neck.

They already feel their eyes lid in pleasure as Jinana demonstrates how attentive s/he’s been. Hir hands accurately mimic Vida’s earlier actions. Jinana begins to add to the bite marks on their neck, hir small teeth indenting into their soft skin.

By the time hir hand reaches their small bundle of nerves Vida is a mess. They buck into hir fingers, push back into hir bites, pull away from hir fingers pinching their nipples. Their cries and moans of ecstasy are the only sounds they know how to make.

They’re coiled tighter than a spring, but Jinana hasn’t given permission yet. Cruel, lovely Jinana won’t talk with hir mouth full.

Not yet can’t yet so close so close please please please ser

“Come for me, Vida.”

Their orgasm crashes over them, toes curling as they scream. Legs splayed and thighs tighten as their hips chase the sensation. They feel the familiar sensation of their ejaculate release and have to hide their face in their hands in humiliation.

By the time they finish they’re trembling and Jinana holds them through their aftershocks. They don’t uncover their face until they hear the door close. Vida’s still beet red and their body feels overwhelmed and tender.

“How are you feeling?” Jinana asks as s/he strokes their hair.

“W-“ Vida takes a shaky breath. “Was I okay?”

“Oh you sweet thing!” Jinana holds them to hir chest. “You were lovely. But how are you feeling now?”

It takes time for Vida to self-process.

“Like I’ve been,” they make a clawing motion at their chest. “It’s like you tore everything out, but in the most perfect way. Everything feels… lighter? I guess? I feel… amazing.” They sigh.

“Do you need anything?”

Vida winces when they adjust their position. “A salve, I think.”

“I’m sure there’s something here. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

—————

After another bath and talking through the scene again with Jinana they put their costume and mask back on and leave the room. Any of their onlookers have gone to watch or join other scenes. Vida breathes a sigh of relief and says goodbye to Jinana.

Even with the salve Jinana applied, Vida needs a break. When they arrive at the ballroom they take an empty futon and sip water. Julian, sporting more marks than before, finds them here. Taking a seat next to them he strokes their leg and his face dons his incorrigible smirk.

“So… I didn’t know you knew Jinana.”

#the arcana #the arcana game #apprentice vida #fan apprentice #jinana #other people’s ocs #the-iron-orchid #vesuviaafterdark #midsummer masquerade #fan fiction #lemon #baby’s THIRD lemon #minors dni

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nitewrighter · 5 years ago

Text

Gency Week Day 7: “Forest”

GOOOODDD Remember how I said this fic was passing like a kidney stone? I just needed to get this fic out of my system but I couldn’t write anything other than shitposts and chatfics for DAYS. So sorry for any sloppiness. The Russian Taiga, Lone Wolf Hanzo, Pregnancy-detecting wolves, and abusive childhoods making unreliable narrators of us all.

----

The four of them had been driving for several hours. The sky was gray and the trees whipped by the van’s windows in a seemingly endless whirl of dark-blue green and gray. It was a cool summer in the Taiga, the air dense with oxygen and the moisture of the pines, drenching the interior of the lungs with a clean cold freshness with every breath.

“So these guys aren’t part of the Hanzo spy network?” said McCree, rolling his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Must you call it a spy network?” said Hanzo.

“It is sort of a spy network,” Mercy piped up from the backseat.

“Not everyone I came into contact with in my travels is some... master of espionage,” said Hanzo, “I just... promised I would return here someday and well, so long as we’re still in this area of Russia--”

“For the other spies in the spy network,” McCree cut in.

“...as long as we’re still in Russia, I should make good on that promise,” said Hanzo.

“And?” said Genji, expectantly. Mercy and McCree exchanged glances. Genji at this point had made it a frequent habit to pull Hanzo off to the side and converse-slash-bicker with him in Japanese, but it seemed to be getting Hanzo to open up more to them.

“And... I thought... it might be enjoyable,” said Hanzo.

“And it’s going to be great--” Genji half-overlapped with Hanzo as he spoke.

Hanzo lifted his chin sightly at the sight of one sign in Russian, “The next turn,” he said, and McCree nodded. The next turn was onto an unpaved road, and the whole van rumbled with what was clearly an overly weathered mag-lev cable underneath the dirt. The road twisted deep into the pines, and Genji’s visor brightened.

“You know what this reminds me of?” said Genji as the van rumbled.

“Mm?” Hanzo looked over his shoulder at him.

“The back roads Father took into Shirakami Sanchi back when he was training us--do you remember?” said Genji.

Hanzo snorted a little, “Don’t worry, this won’t be that bad,” said Hanzo.

“...‘That bad?’” Genji tilted his head but Hanzo perked up as they pulled up to a large sign arching over the road.

“We’re here,” the slight smile in Hanzo’s voice was unmistakeable as McCree parked the van. The four of them stepped out and stretched, Mercy pulling on a jacket in the chilly forest air. She gave a glance up to the sign.

“Tsarapatsosna Gray Wolf Reserve,” Mercy read the arching sign, she looked back at Hanzo, “Wolf reserve?” but Hanzo was already walking under the sign towards a log-cabin styled office with several fenced areas branching off of it. Mercy looked to McCree and McCree just shrugged.

A bell rang on the door of the office as Hanzo stepped into it. There was a late 20-something woman with short-cropped periwinkle dyed hair and oversized noise-cancelling headphones scrolling through a tablet at the desk. McCree examined the office--it was about what you would expect from a remote conservation outpost--outdated technology, disheveled filing, a musky smell of taxidermy emanating from a stuffed mink looking down at them from atop a filing cabinet. The girl with the massive headphones didn’t even look up until Hanzo rang the bell on the desk. She pushed her headphones up off of one ear but then her eyes brightened at the sight of a familiar face.

“Hanzo?” one corner of her mouth quirked up in a grin, “Is that you?”

Hanzo gave a smiling nod and a high pitched, “Ha!” escaped her as she pushed up from her desk and brought her headphones down around her neck like a torc. “It’s been too long! Ilya’s going to go crazy!”

“I like the new color, Kira,” said Hanzo, motioning to his hair.

“And I love this!” said Kira, stepping around the desk and pointing at Hanzo’s undercut, “So ‘cool guy,’ yeah?” Her Russian accent was just thick enough for her to hit her consonants in an appealingly hard way.

Hanzo chuckled. “I learned from the best,” said Hanzo.

Kira scoff-laughed and gave him a playful punch in the arm. Her glance trailed over to McCree, Genji, and Mercy. “Your friends?”

“This is my brother, Genji, and my friends, Angela, and Jesse,” said Hanzo, gesturing at them.

“Howdy,” McCree gave an awkward wave.

“Brother?” Kira repeated and looked over at Genji, “You had a brother this whole time!?”

“He is hard to keep in contact with!” quipped Genji.

Kira snorted. “Da, at least my idiot brother sticks around, but Ilya’s been mooning over Hanzo ever since he left, I think he’s the one starting half the howls around here.”

“Leaving a trail of broken hearts everywhere you go, huh Hanzo?” said McCree

“We never---” Hanzo started but the door opened and a man looking a bit older than Kira with a nose bridge piercing and his hair piled in a chestnut bun briskly stepped in.

“Kira, чей фургон снаружи? У нас не было--” the man caught himself off as he made eye contact with Hanzo. “HANZO!” he lunged forward and caught Hanzo in a big bear hug which Hanzo was, shockingly, receptive to.

“It’s good to see you too, Ilya,” said Hanzo, patting him on the back.

“You barely write anymore! You spend 2 months here and then disappear! We worry so much and all I have is postcards!” said Ilya, bracing his hands on Hanzo’s shoulders.

“Postcards?” McCree mumbled under his breath.

Ilya gasped, “Your hair!”

“That’s what I said!” said Kira.

“Is a good look!” said Ilya.

“I hope my friends and I aren’t causing too much of a disturbance dropping in unannounced like this--” Hanzo started.

“Eh, no, it’s slow today,” said Ilya. He looked over at McCree, Genji and Mercy, “Your friends?”

“Jesse, Genji, and Angela,” said Kira, gesturing at each of them to fill him in, “Genji’s his brother.”

“You have a brother!” Ilya clapped his hands together but his sights trailed over to Genji’s scarred face. Hanzo’s stomach tightened for a minute, but Ilya quickly switched gears back to his jovial self rather than ask about the origins of the scars. He cleared his throat. “Ilya Novikov. You’ve already met my charming sister, Kira.”

Kira gave a wave from where she was leaning against the desk.

“You and your friends want to see the boys? They missed you.” said Ilya.

“We would love to,” said Hanzo.

“Waivers,” said Kira, holding up several papers completely in Russian.

“Ah, yes, waivers,” said Ilya catching himself.

After about three minutes of winging some Russian-to-English translations and Ilya feverishly promising that the wolves would not, in fact, “eat their faces,” the four of them had their waivers signed.

Ilya clapped his hands together, “Good! Good! Come! They will be so excited!”

He rushed out the door and Hanzo gave a glance back to McCree, Genji, and Mercy. “Sorry, I should have let you answer as well.”

“No, this is great!” said Genji, “I’d love to meet the wolves you worked with!”

“I’d like to,” said Mercy, “But I’m still... processing all this.”

“Yeah--Okay, okay, okay--back up,” said McCree, taking his hat off as they walked out the door after Hanzo, “You... you spent 2 months in a Russian wolf reserve!?”

“Much of their permanent residents are actually wolfdogs,” said Hanzo, walking briskly to keep up with Ilya.

“A Russian wolf reserve,” McCree repeated, walking after him.

“...remote location, heated cabins, just enough plumbing to get by, work to keep me occupied,” Hanzo looked over at McCree and Mercy, who were looking at him completely dumbfounded, “You didn’t think I was spending the whole time sleeping under bridges and quietly disposing of the bodies of my would-be assassins?!”

“Well, this is a side of you I’m glad to see,” said Mercy, folding her arms with a smile.

“Who doesn’t like a dog person?” said McCree with a grin as they caught up with Ilya, who was standing outside a chain-link fence that spanned a large area dotted with pines, but where the duff of pine needles had clearly been packed down more with both human and wolf footsteps.

“Lots of wolfdogs with the Crisis,” Ilya explained as they walked along the fence of the enclosure, “Omnics displace people, pets run away, nature reclaims abandoned towns, dogs fuck with the wolves, make wolfdogs. This enclosure is all the older ones. More used to people. Good for kids. Good for bringing funding.”

“Ah, we’re getting the fluffy tourist treatment,” said McCree.

“Is still big animals!” said Ilya. He suddenly perked up and pivoted back at them, walking backwards. He seemed to give a quick glance over at everyone’s outfit. “Good clothing. Yes. No danglies--not too tight--Jesse, your name was?”

“Yes?” said McCree.

“No hats,” said Ilya, and McCree took off his hat and set it on a supply locker near the enclosure, “The wolves. They like to steal things. And then tear them apart. Then bury them,” Ilya suddenly perked up. “Ah! Miss Angela! Important question: You are pregnant?” said Ilya, looking at Mercy.

“Excuse me?!” said Mercy reddening.

“My apologies, my English is ehhh....” Ilya made a ‘so-so’ motion with his hand, “What I’m saying is--The wolves, they know when you are pregnant. They act weird. They bring you food. They always know.”

Mercy’s mouth drew to a thin, crooked line with her bemusement, “No, I’m not pregnant,” she said with a slight chuckle.

“No hats and pregnancy detection. Got it,” said McCree, putting his hands on his hips.

A large brown wolfdog with three legs hop-walked in from the trees. It spotted Hanzo and suddenly bound towards the chain-link fence, rising up on its back legs and rattling the fence as it put one paw on it.

“Shoko!” said Hanzo, putting his hand to the chain-link and letting the wolf-dog sniff it, “She’s still here?”

“Of course!” said Ilya, “This is her home!”

The wolfdog whined and rattled the chain-link, drawing the attention of her pack, who all slowly padded in from the various tree and shrub covered areas they were sniffing about.

“Hanzo, you should go in first, get them warmed up to people, yeah?” said Ilya.

“Of course,” said Hanzo, stepping in. The gate was constructed in sally-port fashion, with another gate inside a fenced off area so that Hanzo could have the gate shut behind him before entering the enclosure. As soon as he stepped through that second gate he was beset on all sides by massive barking, sniffing bodies, roiling around him and yipping and some even prancing and rearing on their hind legs playfully at him. Mercy and Genji and McCree watched as Hanzo’s expression melted into pure warmth and even sputtered bouts of laughter as the wolves and wolfdogs sniffed and whined and butted into him. Hanzo, apparently well practiced in maneuvering with the pack’s attention on him, managed to shift the mass of furry bodies away from the sally port and he chatted to them, slipping between English and Japanese and even some Russian he had presumably picked up in working in this place. McCree honestly could have just watched him all day but Ilya elbowed him and gestured into the enclosure with a thumb. Mercy looked over at Genji, a slight smile on his scar-notched lips.

“We never got to have dogs, growing up,” said Genji, very quietly.

“Come on! Come on!” said Ilya, gesturing them in one at a time.

McCree entered and instantly a section of the pack swarming Hanzo broke off to sniff him. McCree nearly lost his balance as a wolf with splotchy-patterned fur knocked into him from the side.

“Oh they like you!” Ilya shouted from outside the fence.

Because he smells like Hanzo, thought Genji, stepping in to the enclosure after McCree. The wolves ears pricked up with the screech of the metal gate swinging, and a dozen brown, black, and yellow eyes regarded Genji with some curiosity. Genji moved to hold out his prosthetic hand, caught himself, then extended his organic hand. One silver wolf gave his hand a wary sniff before pushing his muzzle against Genji’s palm. Once the four of them were thoroughly sniffed, the pack broke apart slightly, several wandering off to resume sniffing or scratching at pines indifferent to their human visitors, but a good portion of them hung around, eager for pets and roughhousing.

“They are a lot bigger than they seem in the documentaries, aren’t they?” said Mercy as a cream-colored wolf stuck its full muzzle into the monopocket of her hoodie while a black wolfdog sniffed at her heels. The wolves seemed to be warming up to Genji as well, in spite of his prosthetics, sniffing at his jawline where his skin ended and cybernetic neck began. They were like dogs and yet not like dogs, sometimes remembering an aloof pride midway-through being pet and briskly walking away, but then coming back when they realized that that very distance they created was being respected. I can see why Hanzo would like you, thought Genji, scratching a wolf that wanted to be scratched, but didn’t want Genji to make eye contact while he was doing it. He glanced up at Hanzo, half-wrestling with Shoko, and the words Hanzo had said earlier hung in Genji’s mind like a loose thread off a sweater.

This won’t be that bad.

Genji glanced over to Mercy and McCree, still well-occupied with the wolfdogs swarming them, and walked over to Hanzo.

“Hanzo?” said Genji, dropping to a squat next to Hanzo as he rubbed Shoko’s belly.

“Yes?” said Hanzo, scratching the three-legged wolfdog under her chin.

“Sorry, I’m just... trying to clear something up--What you said back in the van... you didn’t like Shirakami-Sanchi?” said Genji.

“You’re not supposed to like it. Survival isn’t a game,” said Hanzo, glancing up at Genji. Shoko rolled herself back onto her stomach and pushed up under Hanzo’s arm to try and get his attention.

“I thought we did pretty well,” said Genji.

“Well you got to go play at being the agile hunter charging after squirrels and I had to actually find fresh water and build a fire for us,” said Hanzo, digging his hands into the ruff of fur at Shoko’s neck.

“...I thought you were okay with that,” said Genji.

“Well in a sense, yes, it kept you out of my hair, but I was also worried you’d do something stupid and hurt yourself and Father wouldn’t be there to rush to your rescue, so it would just be me, and---” Hanzo caught himself and his hand paused, still half-sunken into wolf fur. He looked up at Genji. “I’m sorry,” said Hanzo.

“No, I--I get it,” said Genji, glancing off.

He sighed and pulled his hand away, prompting Shoko to make a protesting growl-whine, “It’s wasn’t your fault. You were too young for it anyway. Father was mostly testing me.”

“...I thought it was the first time Father thought I could do something,” said Genji. I thought, I thought, I thought, the more Genji said the words the stupider he felt.

“He probably thought it would build character,” Hanzo conceded, “Of course it was just a fun adventure in the woods for his favorite.”

“But you didn’t like it,” said Genji.

Hanzo looked at Genji for a few seconds. “You, Genji. You were his favorite.”

A sputter of laughs escaped Genji but quickly faded as he read Hanzo’s face. “Oh you... you actually think that,” said Genji.

“Think that?! It was obvious!” said Hanzo, “Father always liked you better because you took after Mother more--that’s why he went easier on you.”

“Went easy on-- He just thought he couldn’t trust me with anything! He thought I was a failure! You were the perfect first-born!” said Genji.

“I wasn’t his son, I was his heir! He was only ever... molding me to be like him! He actually smiled with you! He called you ‘Sparrow!’”

“Sparrow was an insult,” said Genji, plainly.

Hanzo’s brow crinkled and his eyes pinched with confusion. “What? No it wasn’t.”

“‘Genji, you never apply yourself to anything. You’re always flitting between meaningless distractions. This way and that. Like a sparrow,’” Genji imitated Sojiro’s tone almost perfectly.

Hanzo glanced down, “No, no, that can’t be right,” he muttered, “Sparrows are lucky!”

“Sparrows are pests,” said Genji.

“You were always laughing!”

“Well, yes,” said Genji, he rubbed the back of his neck, “I... got very good at laughing things off. I’m--I’m still good at it.”

Hanzo felt a shudder linger between his shoulder blades when he thought about how easily Genji had laughed at him saying he was the favorite. Both now realized that the rest of the wolves were giving them a wide berth. Three still crowding Mercy and one getting a vigorous belly rub from McCree.

“I’m sorry,” said Hanzo, “I...had not known.”

“I didn’t know either,” said Genji, “I always assumed you and father got along because you did everything right. You even won every sparring match.”

“Because I was bigger,” said Hanzo, “Those weren’t fair to you, either.”

Shoko pushed her muzzle against the back of Hanzo’s shoulder for attention.

“Perhaps we should...” Hanzo trailed off.

“Talk about this when we’re not surrounded by wolves?” said Genji.

“Yes,” said Hanzo, glancing off.

Genji pushed himself up from his squat and walked off, giving Hanzo his space. Upon seeing whatever tension between them was dissipating, several wolves immediately swarmed Genji for attention. Just running his hands through their fur was a relief. He watched as McCree chatted with Hanzo quietly. McCree apparently comforting Hanzo over the newest revelation.

I thought you knew, thought Genji, I thought I was a joke to you, too...

I thought.

“Genji?” Mercy stepped next to him as Genji was absentmindedly scratching the side of an older, sleepy wolfdog’s face, “Were you and Hanzo just arguing?”

“It’s fine,” said Genji, “We’re fine.”

“Are you sure?” said Mercy. One corner of Genji’s mouth tugged up in a not-smile. She really was so protective of him when it came to Hanzo.

“It was... just about this trip we took when we were younger,” said Genji.

“The Shirakami trip you mentioned back in the van?” said Mercy.

“It wasn’t really a trip, it was part of our training,” said Genji, “Wilderness survival. Standard stuff. 5 days of just me and Hanzo roughing it in the woods, making our own lean-tos, that sort of thing...” Genji trailed off.

“How old were you?” said Mercy.

“Hanzo was twelve,” said Genji.

“...so you were nine,” said Mercy, her brow was crinkling.

“Are you okay?” said Genji.

“Just you and Hanzo?” Mercy, “Not your father?”

“Of course,” said Genji with a shrug, and he noticed the color drain from Mercy’s face, “What?”

“Genji, you were a 12 year old and a 9 year old left alone in the woods for five days, that’s horrific,” said Mercy.

“Every generation of the Shimada did it in some capacity,” said Genji, “And I already had plenty of training before---” he caught himself as he looked up into Mercy’s eyes, “...Oh. That’s... that’s not something families do with their kids, is it?”

“No,” said Mercy, “No it isn’t.”

“Right...” Genji looked down.

“So the argument was about the trip?” said Mercy.

“It... it turned into being more about father,” said Genji, “I guess...we both assumed he was amazing to the other when the truth was, he was terrible to both of us in different ways.”

Mercy touched his shoulder, “You were both children...”

Genji huffed a little. “I think we both wanted to believe he was good, deep down. He was strong, certainly. He made the world feel like it had a certain... order to it. That the clan’s way was the truth of the world.”

“It takes time,” said Mercy, “Even when you get enough space and perspective, it still takes a while to figure out who you are outside of a situation like that.”

Genji brought his hand over hers. “It still scares me, sometimes, like, what do I accept as normal that’s nightmarish for other people?” He glanced off, “And... and I want to remember good things about our childhood--I want to believe there are some... some strings of family love that were always there. Maybe father did love us... but he only knew how to show it in the way it was shown to him...he may not have even known--I may not even know--Am I--?” he cut himself off as he looked into her eyes.

Mercy stooped over him put her free hand against the side of his face, and gently kissed his forehead. “Genji,” she said, “You are one of the kindest, strongest, and most patient people I’ve ever met. And you know yourself. And you’re constantly working to be a better version of yourself. That’s one of the reasons why you tried so hard to bring Hanzo back into your life--would it be easier if Hanzo wasn’t in your life? Yes, but... I think for you, it’s not about wanting what’s easy.”

“Maybe I’m just dwelling on this because I’m scared, no matter how hard I worked to get here, to get better, I’m so scared of repeating that cycle,” said Genji.

“You won’t,” said Mercy, sitting down next to him,“This is happening because you want to break a cycle, and... learning things like this is a part of it. This is new ground for everyone. Of course it’s scary.”

Genji looked over at Hanzo, kneading his knuckles into the the thick fur of a wolf-dog’s neck with his face scrunched at the wolf licking his face. McCree walked up and helped haul him to his feet before both of them nearly tripped over another wolf butting into them from behind.

“He has gotten a lot better,” said Genji.

“And it’s going to keep getting better, sure there will be hiccups, but you both want this,” said Mercy, “That’s what’s important.”

Genji just quietly smiled at that. “We’re going to talk about it more when we get back,” said Genji.

“I think that’s a good idea,” said Mercy, “And if it’s any consolation, the wolves confirmed I’m not pregnant.”

Genji looked at her oddly, with one thick eyebrow arched with amusement.

“So we don’t have to worry about that yet, at least,” said Mercy, folding her arms.

“Yet?” said Genji.

Mercy just gave him a smile and a shrug, and Genji snorted and leaned his head on his shoulder. He kept his fingers dug into the wolf’s fur, breathing in the pine-cooled air.

#gency #some background mchanzo #gencyweek

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holyfool-arcana · 5 years ago

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The Holy Fool: Chapter 2

The Waters Taketh Away

Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: Mentions of infant death and murder Rating: M Description: An Arcana AU set in a Vesuvia that is half-noir and half-fantasy.

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“Doctor Devorak, if you do not cease and desist, we will have no choice but to take you into custody!” snapped one voice, the annoyance in it softened by the fact that the owner of said voice was obviously trying to suppress a yawn.

“Shouldn’t we get this body to a morgue, get an autopsy report in, identify the corpse, inform the family?” another voice cuts in rapidly-- “That’s standard protocol, why would you just leave a dead baby lying around--”

Asra had trooped on ahead when Liuyin hesitated at the fringes of the forming crowd, tugging his companion after him till they reached the source of the voice.

“Ilya,” the magician greets, and the name almost seemed like a spell-- the tall, gangly man going red-faced from his haranguing had shut up, almost literally, his jaw clicking as he slammed his mouth shut.

His eyes widened, almost to a frantic degree, and Liuyin suspected this new flush was from something other than aggravation as he offers the two of them a small smile that bordered on nervous. “Ah, good morning Asra--”

“Magician,” Asra corrects steadily, seeming to grow increasingly unfazed the more flustered Doctor Devorak seemed. He gestured to Liuyin. “And this is--”

“Liuyin Mei, administer of last rites and curses, blessings, the such,” Liuyin replied, breaking the tension between them by offering their hand to the doctor. “Pleasure to meet you, Ilya.”

“Oh, it’s Julian now,” the man replied, stooping down and pressing a kiss to the back of Liuyin’s hand. “It’s wonderful to see such a lovely face in the midst of such chaos.”

A business card is pressed into their hands, and Liuyin had glanced between it and the man, now straightened to his full height, before they’d tucked the card into their sleeve. “Ilya, that’s enough--” Asra says, a faint note of vexation in his voice. “Constable Marlin, take us to the corpse, please.”

The mustachioed, portly gentleman nods, gesturing them forwards, whilst they shouldered past a few more civilians and reporters starting to gather around a cordoned-off area of the docks, where two bundles lay on the ground, side-by-side.

“When the salvage team found the body and the arm, was there anything else present?” Liuyin turned to a detective on the scene.

The detective turns to Liuyin, frowns, then shakes their head. “No, sir,” they’d replied. “Nothing turned up of note.”

“No coffin?” Liuyin cuts in, and received a strange look in turn.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because around three this morning, in fact, my aunt and I were preparing burial rites for a baby,” Liuyin replies. It wasn’t an outright lie, per se, just a small one-- truly, they hadn’t even seen the contents of the box yet before it was stolen-- “and someone had broken in and snatched it from our property. I think that because the box was so small, they might have mistaken the contents for valuables, and possibly dumped the body of the infant once they realized it wasn’t.”

“Very curious. Why didn’t you file a report?”

“Finding the body ought to have spooked the thief enough,” Liuyin reassured them.

“So this is yours, then?” the detective asks.

“Should be, yes,” Liuyin nodded, watching as Asra paced a slow circle around the larger of the two bundles, a calculated look in his eyes.

“So you’re saying,” furious scribbling commences, “That the corpse recovered from the water was dead before entry?”

“Isn’t that the job of the detectives to determine, sir?” Liuyin replies in response, a calculatedly aggravating response.

It works. An eye-roll of disgust and a sigh later from the detective, they’re told to simply “collect their things” and “get the hell out.”

Liuyin is all too happy to obey, even if it meant carrying a corpse in their arms through the streets of Vesuvia-- the docks were starting to get a little too crowded, too loud, and they felt a headache coming on.

“Asra, let’s go.”

The white-haired magician had glanced between them and the bundle of soaking white silk in the arms apologetically. “I have more investigations to do here,” he says, jerking his chin in the direction of the larger bundle-- the one that Liuyin knew concealed a metal prosthetic arm beneath it.

“I’ll stay--” Liuyin began to offer, about to reach into their pockets for some tiger balm to temporarily alleviate the burgeoning migraine, but Asra shook his head instead.

“Go home, Liuyin. You should get some rest.”

Liuyin opened their mouth to protest, but decided better of it, nodding instead. “Fine. Take care of yourself too,” they’d offered as parting words.

Navigating the sea of people was even harder by themselves, especially considering their cargo-- Liuyin had covered up the baby’s face so no one would take a look and frighten the mass into a panic, and then resigned themselves to elbowing and shouldering their way between the people.

A black-gloved hand reached out to them then, and Liuyin followed it up into the smirking face of one Doctor Devorak. “Need a hand?”

“What do you want?” they inquire in return, less than hostile but shrewd nonetheless, even as they accept the assistance.

“No need to be so suspicious,” the doctor drawls in return, quite cheerfully, using his height as an advantage to navigate through and around the crowds. “It’s quite a reasonable request, though I’m sure we ought to discuss it away from the crowds.”

Liuyin waits till they’re free of the worst of the gathered, before deftly stepping in front of him, their hand still in his, pacing backwards with measured steps and careful not to crash into anyone. From a distance, they’d almost look like two sweethearts with a newborn on a stroll, though in reality, he was just their new acquaintance who obviously held a torch for their best friend, and the newborn was, of course, dead.

“Talk,” Liuyin says tersely.

Doctor Devorak slows his steps down till they were nearly at a standstill in the middle of the sidewalk, dipping down till his wild auburn curls were brushing over Liuyin’s cheek.

“I want to perform an autopsy,” he says, the way someone else might whisper a sweet nothing, breath brushing against their ear and causing a few flyaways of hair to flutter up. “Aren’t you curious why a baby had to die, and why someone kept it so secretive?”

Liuyin couldn’t help it, they found this scene far too comical-- here he was, almost flirting, and here they were, a literal corpse in their arms being toted about like a loaf of bread.

They snorted, and then laughed, ignoring the affronted expression on Doctor Devorak’s face, pushing the dead infant into the doctor’s hands as they continued down the street. “By all means,” they said, giggling as they watched him fumble with the package before regaining his handling.

He was, in fact, quite adorable when flustered, the thought came unbidden to Liuyin.

They pushed it out of their mind and nodded on. “Come back to my shop, then. I’ve got a decent workspace.”

“Administer of funeral rites, right, right,” the doctor nodded, muttering to himself as they passed through the streets with trickles of conversation being passed around as if it were a strong liquor-- sparingly, with each their turn.

Gradually, he’d discovered that they were adopted by an aunt, their parents were unknown, and that Liuyin was frightened of creatures that crawled. In return, Liuyin found out Julian was orphaned as well, raised by a woman who was “practically a grandmother”, and was an apprentice to one of Secretary Satrinava’s children when he was learning his practice before joining the Ministry of Public Health.

They’d both known Asra for some time, though the doctor clammed up about the nature of that relationship when pressed-- and Liuyin was too polite and well-trained to ask further.

Finally, they’d reached the door of the shop-- a small property on the edge of the central district, white-walled, with evergreens peeking over the tops of the shingles. The double doors were thoroughly pasted with yellow talismans, layer upon layer over the years, till hardly any of the original wood underneath could be seen, strips of sun-bleached paper fluttering in a limp breeze.

“What are these?” the doctor asks, trying to make out the sigils and reaching for one of the slips of paper.

“Don’t touch it!” Liuyin says in a near-shout of alarm, throwing themselves onto his arm.

He retracted his hand back rapidly, blinking down with a query in his eyes.

Slowly, bit by bit, Liuyin let go of his arm. “Sorry I yelled…” they replied, eyes trailing right over where the button of his jacket opened at the dip of his collarbone. “Those are protective charms designed to keep intruders of the supernatural sort out.”

“I see,” he’d said, face settling into a look of consideration. “In that case--”

“Yinyin?” A slender, petite woman with dark hair in a high-collared dress over which she’d draped a dressing robe emerged from the opposite door. “I thought I heard your voice-- oh!”

Auntie Liya was staring somewhat judgmentally, at the two of them-- and Liuyin suddenly became aware of their proximity to Julian, pressed nearly chest-to-chest, the bundle in his arm held awkwardly at his hip to prevent getting crushed.

Their face lit on fire and they stepped back right into the door of talismans, pushing it open blindly and stumbling back into the courtyard. “C-come in, Doctor Devorak, we’ll set up a table for you.”

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” Aunt Liya asks expectantly, hands on her hips.

Liuyin squeezes their eyes shut, as if praying for the ground to swallow their mortification, and then nods obligingly, painting a smile across their features. “Auntie, this is Doctor Devorak, who helped me recover the body that was stolen from us earlier this morning. Doctor Devorak, this is my Aunt Liya, who I’m apprenticed under.”

“Charmed,” the tall man replied, reaching to shake the matron’s hand.

He mustn’t have expected her to grab his hand, remove his glove, turn it palm-up, scan it, and then let it drop back with a, “Humph!” and a “that one’s nothing but trouble, Yinyin,” to her ward within the span of the few seconds he was caught off-guard, tossing the glove back to him in the meanwhile.

Doctor Devorak, to his credit, only fumbled briefly with the glove that she threw back at him, Liuyin taking the chance to transfer the bundle of corpse baby to their own arms, deeming it unstable in his current state of hesitance.

“A-Yi, Auntie, we really must be carrying on with the investigation,” Liuyin replied as they gestured the doctor to them with hurried movements, as if urging them to escape before Aunt Liya got around even further in passing judgement upon the two of them-- who were strictly professional, sorry and thank you.

“Investigation?” their aunt asks incredulously, and that was pretty much all the incentive Liuyin needed to grab Doctor Devorak’s free wrist and tug him insistently up the steps and through the open sliding doors to the left, into the coffin-house where the dead were banished. “Yinyin, you stupid child, come back out here!”

Liuyin led him through the white-sheets hanging from the entrance, skirting around a not-quite-fully burnt trough of incense sticks that was arranged in front of an altar housing the statue of a stern-faced man.

Liuyin had paused in front of it for a brief moment and bowing, murmuring a few words of supplication under their breath before they’d continued on, holding open yet another set of white curtains as they led him into another room.

He’d taken stock of the surroundings and deemed it acceptable-- a waist-high table, good lighting, and the area was evidently kept clean. Despite the number of corpses that must have gone through this coffin-house, it smelled more strongly of incense than of necrotic flesh, and though he was far too accustomed to less glamorous working conditions, he’d appreciated the meticulous care that the witch and their aunt had. “You can set it down on the surface of the table,” he’d informed them.

They’d concurred with the request, gingerly laying the bundle down. “I assume you brought tools with you,” they said.

“Of course, darling,” the doctor offered a smirk and cast off his coat, leaving it hanging on one of the hooks on the wall, before bringing out what looked like a leather portfolio, but bulkier, from one of the folds.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Liuyin says skeptically, eyeing the variety of sharp blades and implements he’d unravelled from the bag.

“Don’t want to stay for the show?” He asks, raising a brow.

Liuyin narrowed their eyes at him. Fine, two could play at the banter. “No,” they replied. “I’m going to just purify everything so the infant spirit doesn’t latch onto you and eat your spouse’s children in the womb.”

The doctor took it in stride. “Have fun!”

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ofmusingsxandmayhem-a · 5 years ago

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@spiiinninginfinity said: "Surprised to see you here," Ilya said, as Prue enters the interrogation room. The man is clearly exhausted, the bags under his eyes darker than usual. The cuffs around his wrists gently clinks as he fidgets, uncomfortable to be watched closely by her. "Whatever they've told you, I can explain. I was there at the wrong time-" except that, he wasn't, what with his hands deep in the crates full of illegal firearms.

Prue sighed as she approached the table, files in hand as she moved to sit down opposite him. He had become a familiar face to her by now, but not one she had expected to be sat across from in a room such as this. Still, there were procedures and protocols to follow.

“I gotta say, Ilya, I really hope you can.” she replied, clasped hands resting on the table as she looked over to him. “Because they’ve got some pretty compelling evidence against you right now. Namely, catching you red handed with these.” Opening the file, she spread out some photographs of the firearms the team had uncovered when they arrested him. “I’m all ears.”

#spiiinninginfinity #answered: prue gallagher

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writing-with-melon · 6 years ago

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A Day at Tipsy Teas

I finally did the thing!!!!!! New chapter for my Notes on the Wall Arcana AU. Here is the intro if you haven’t read it yet. Hope you like.

A Day at Tipsy Teas ♠ Asra x Reader

***

It's another beautiful morning at 22A Vesuvia Ln. You yawn as you walk down the stairs looking out towards the street below. The air is fresh and clean as you stretch your still tired body.

"Hey! Wait!" Asra calls to you from above as they run down the stairs still putting on their shirt. Asra's white hair is still wet from his shower. "I can't believe you left without me!" they say looking half offended but with a slight smile on his face.

"You took too long." You wait for him to catch up to you.

"You've never left without me before," Asra shakes some water droplets from their hair.

"I haven't? Really?" you look at him wide-eyed.

You'd started living with Asra after the accident. They had helped you adapt to your new life without recent memories. And without knowing what you had done since then it was up to Arsa and everyone else to tell you what happened and what you did. It could be frustrating at times, but you were learning to live with it.

You must have been making a face because Asra said: "You can make a note not to leave without me."

"Not to live without you? That's a bit extreme don't you think?" You laughed.

"Pfffttthahaha! Leave! But I'll take 'live' too." Asra laughed before reaching into the front pocket of your overall for the sticky notes and marker you always carried there. "Here write it down, before you forget."

You take the marker and write: Don't leave or live without Arsa in the morning. Then you rip out the sticky note before folding it and putting it in your pocket. The two of you finally make your way to the bottom floor and open up the back door of the shop.

Asra hands you a binder with your instructions and gets to work as you read it over. By the time you're done, Asra is wearing a violet apron that matches their eyes. You put on your matching one and get ready to open.

The first to enter, you recognize as Dr. Devorak, who looks like he's ready for Death to take him. His dark auburn hair is disheveled and the bags under his eyes he could use for grocery shopping. His shirt is untucked and halfway opened revealing a white undershirt. Under his arm he carries a newspaper and some file folders When was the last time this man got a good night's rest? you wondered. He stood in front of the counter but you already knew what he was going to order.

"Coffee? Black? No sugar?" You asked as he was about to open his mouth.

"Yes!" He said brows raised in surprise. "Are you a mind reader now? Or do I look that awful?"

Awful wasn't the right word. Actually, the perpetually worn-out look was very becoming of him. "You look tired," you said with a small smile.

He eyed himself on the counter glass and gasped as if he'd just discovered his reflection. "Well, that's a nice way to put it." He said pulling down on his eye bags.

"You look dead Ilya, at least tuck in your shirt," Asra said shaking their head and preparing the coffee behind me.

"Good morning to you too!" Julian rolled his eyes and fixed his shirt. "I've been up all night. If you must know." He runs his hand through his hair trying to fix it.

"Busy with your research, Doctor?" You ask handing him his order.

"Yes. Thanks for asking." He said looking at Asra who shook their head. "I'm so close to a breakthrough I can almost taste it." His eyes light up as he thinks about his work.

Asra reaches over the counter and hands Julian his coffee. "Would you like anything else? We got some pumpkin bread yesterday."

"That does sound tempting, gorgeous." He smiled but then backed away as Asra reached your side with a bit of a death glare in their eyes. "But just the coffee is fine." he said handing you his payment.

"You're scaring the customers." You teased Asra as Julian sat by the window to read his newspaper.

"I couldn't scare him away if I tried." Asra smiled wrapping their arms around you from behind. You let him hold you feeling his warmth on your back.

Just then two women marched their way to the door. Nadia and Portia, you realize, as Asra lets you go. "I'll prepare their usual orders," Asra says as Nadia makes her way to the counter. She takes off her cat-eye shape sunglasses and her beautiful red eyes stare into yours.

"Good morning." You breathe out. "The usual?"

"Naturally." She smiles and turns to Portia who stands behind her holding a large binder. "The usual for you too, Portia?"

"Yes! Oh got anything tasty today?" She asks ogling the glass counter filled with pastries.

"We just got some pumpkin bread and we also have chamomille cakes." You say trying to remember the inventory you just reviewed an hour before.

"Ooooh! Both of those are good! I'll take the pumpkin bread." She says her mouth visibly watering.

"Coming right up!" You smile. turning to Arsa who hands you their orders.

"Tell me, how are things going around here?" Nadia asks before taking a sip of her cappuccino. Though she looks at you, you know the question is for Asra. There was no way you could report on the state of things if you lived one day at a time.

"Things are alright, nothing but the usual trouble," Asra reports.

"What about, you-know-who?" Nadia asked with a sour tone, her eyes narrowing with the memory of something unpleasant.

"He hasn't shown up, yet. But I'm sure he will eventually." Asra says their voice equally distasteful.

You look at Portia who paces uncomfortably eyeing both Nadia and Asra. You're half tempted to ask about who they are talking about, but just then Nadia just shakes her head and sighs.

"Thank you, love. Let me know when he decides to show his dumb face around here. Portia, we got work to do." She says before strutting to her usual table with Portia hurrying behind her.

They seem to settle into their usual work routine, chatting and looking over some paperwork and occasionally getting a refill of their beverages.

You write yourself a note about this secretive and suspicious behavior and post it on your work binder.

***

The hours pass by as swift as rush hour and other customers come and go. Dr. Devorak has long gone back to his lab at the hospital and Nadia and Portia have left to continue whatever it is they do while they work. It is later in the afternoon and you've closed and reopened the shop as you do every day, except on Sundays when it's closed.

Asra is on their fourth lapsang souchong relaxing on the nearest table near the counter while you're cleaning the wide windows. Suddenly a giant man rings the door chime as he enters. You can't help but stop your cleaning to stare up at him. He notices you staring and looks away uncomfortably pulling on the straps of his dark green hoodie. Asra rises from their position and heads to their place behind the counter smiling.

"Hey, Muriel! How was your day?" Asra asks.

"The wolves were rowdy today." He responds quietly despite his beep thundering voice.

"How's Inanna?" You ask finishing up the windows trying to not be so awkward.

"I bathed her today. But as soon as I finished she ran through the mud." He replies not meeting your eyes. You don't really blame him after you so rudely stared at him as he came in.

"I feel the same way about the shop's floor." Asra laughs. "One minute it's clean and the next you have to start all over."

"What can we get for you today?" You ask before Arsa goes on a rant.

Muriel glances at the clock and nods "Mead." He sits on his usual booth in the back and pulls out a novel. He flips through the pages casually nursing his drink.

A few other customers come and go, but the night settles to quiet routine. You get a few moments of peace before Asra lets out a soft gasp. "Oh great, here we go," they whisper under their breath.

A blond man makes his way to the door throwing his weight with every step. A smirk sits on his lips as his eyes meet yours. "Wine," he orders heading to the booth by the window. He casually throws his leather jacket behind his shoulder. This must be Lucio.

"Take this one and I'll let you wear my crop top!" Asra begs making a puppy face.

"Hmmm, the super cute pink one that says 'BABY' on it?" You tease.

"Which other?" They say glancing at Lucio.

"Deal!" You smile. Taking a deep breath and filling up a glass of wine.

"About time! What took you so long?" He whines and immediately takes a sip.

"Sorry for the wait. Can I offer you anything else?" you smile sweetly trying to appease him.

"How about a kiss?" He says leaning towards your face with a smirk.

You back away and give him a polite smile. "How about something on the menu instead?"

"Eh, just keep the wine coming." He settles back into his seat.

You make your way to the counter and notice that Arsa is talking to Muriel who is trying to take up the least amount of space possible.

"--she must have some score she needs to settle with him. She said she was on her way." you hear Asra tell Muriel in a hushed tone.

"I should leave before things escalate," Muriel whispers.

"What's the secrecy?" You ask in an equally hushed voice when you reach them. "Should I make a note about it?"

"Oh no, it's nothing for you to worry about," Asra says putting their arm around you and giving you a peck on the cheek.

You narrow your eyes, feeling excluded, but welcome Asra's kisses. Before you can ask another question Muriel gasps looking out the windows. "She's here."

You look outside and see Nadia strutting across the door eyes fixed on Lucio who flinches upon seeing her. He straightens himself up after a good long sip of his wine and when she's within reach, he smiles charismatically. "Noddy, you're a sight for sore eyes."

"I wish I could say the same." She huffs. "You and I need to talk. Come outside, please."

"But it's so comfortable here. Have a seat. I'll order you some wine. You like white, right?"

Nadia glances in your direction and shakes her head. "No. We're not having this conversation here."

"You don't want wine? How about some daiquiris?" Lucio says before taking another sip.

"No. Talk with me outside, please." She says, now clearly irritated.

"But I haven't finished my glass." Lucio whines.

Nadia rips the glass from his hand and drinks the rest. "OUTSIDE NOW" She screams calmly between her teeth. Lucio blinks twice before finally rising from his seat and then follows her outside.

You can't really hear what she's screaming about but she looks clearly upset. Lucio, on the other hand, looks totally aggravated and seems to be defending himself.

You glance at Muriel and Arsa as you three watch the spectacle awkwardly, all of you wondering what it could be about. After some more arguing, Nadia waltzes in taking a deep breath and straightened her blazer.

"Sorry about that darlings, I'll be taking that scoundrel with me for the night. How much for his glass?" she asks completely returning to her usual self. She pays for the drink and makes her way outside dragging Lucio with her.

"Is anyone going to explain to me what just happened?" You ask still shocked.

Asra shrugs and scratches the back of their neck and Muriel stands "I should be going."

"See you tomorrow, Muriel." Asra hugs him. Muriel hugs him back a small smile on his face.

"Sooo that's a no?" You cross your arms watching them a tiny hint of jealousy rising in your chest. Asra looks at you as Muriel leaves.

"Bye, Muriel." You say right before he crosses the door, but your eyes are still on Asra.

They sigh and take your hands "Look, I know you don't like when I don't explain things to you. But, I honestly don't know what that was about. I have my suspicions, but I don't know for sure. And whatever that was is not my secret to tell." Their violet eyes gaze into yours and you know they are being sincere.

You sigh knowing he is right. "Yeah, it's none of my business."

"If you're that curious I could ask Nadi about it tomorrow. And I promise to tell you all about it, if she does spill the beans." They smile rubbing your enclosed hands with their thumbs.

"You would?" You smile.

"For you? Of course!" They say pulling you into a hug.

"You won't forget to tell me about it, right?" you whisper into their ear.

"Nope. I'll remember for the both of us." They pull away and wink at you. Their dimples make an appearance as they smile at you. Even though they've pulled away from the hug you're still standing close enough to hear them breathe.

"I love you." You tell them.

"I love you too." Their hands making their way to your face. Their hands caress your cheek softly before pulling you into a kiss.

You welcome their soft lips on yours and accidentally let out a small moan. Asra stops enough to giggle and soon countless minutes are lost while you kiss them. They finally pull away and smile, their face slightly red.

"Come on, I think it's time we closed shop." Asra again giggles before pulling you into one last warm kiss.

***

You make your way back into your apartment exhausted.

"I'm beat!" You say collapsing your tired body face-first onto the bed.

"Tell me about it." Asra collapses on top of you. You groan as the weight of their body settles on top of yours. They're heavy but it feels nice, you're about to doze off in that position but Arsa suddenly jumps off the bed.

"Oh, I forgot! We need to do laundry now. Like right now! I'm out of clean jeans for work tomorrow." they say rushing to the laundry basket.

"Well, you could just wear your apron... and nothing else." You tease.

"Oh? Harboring fantasies are we?" Their dimples appearing again with their smile. Asra pulls you in for a tight hug and places a kiss on your cheek.

"Maybe?" You laugh before he releases you. You help him gather up the rest of the clothes, but you can feel their gaze on you.

"Take off your overalls I'll wash those too," Asra says.

You turn away and begin to strip. You hear them laugh. "First you tease me and now you're shy? You're always a box of surprises."

You hand him your overalls, your face red. Asra takes them but soon tosses them to the ground before pulling you into a kiss. "You're the cutest," they whisper.

You feel a little disappointed when they pull away taking all their warmth with them. You sigh and put on your sleepwear as they finish putting in the load. You wrap yourself in the covers and feel Arsa join you on the bed.

"Goodnight. Don't forget to remember me in the morning," they whisper in your ear.

"I won't" You smile finally letting your exhaustion take over you. You fall asleep with the tiny notion that you forgot to post the sticky notes of your overall on your wall.

Don't leave or live without Arsa in the morning.

The note had said, but it had been lost to the waters of the washing machine. But none of it seems to matter as Asra holds you tight as you sleep.

***

I know I promised this months ago but such is life... Feedback much appreciated

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knotfodder · 2 years ago

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yobaba30 · 6 years ago

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With a conservative majority strengthened by two Trump appointees, the court on Monday will hear a case that could produce its first ruling bolstering gun rights since 2010. Its decision probably will come in June in the heat of the presidential campaign.

Three New York City residents say the rules forced them to stop attending shooting competitions and taking licensed handguns to a second home.

There’s just one problem: The restrictions no longer exist.

Faced with a showdown before what probably will be a skeptical court, the city and state have scrapped the strict handgun-transportation rules -- and asked the justices to toss out the case without issuing a ruling. City officials are seeking to head off an opinion that could threaten other gun regulations nationwide.

“Any time liberals keep a case out of the Supreme Court, it’s a cause for a sigh of relief for them,” said Adam Winkler, a professor at UCLA Law School who wrote a book on the fight over the Second Amendment. “The court is not on their side.”

The New York State Rifle & Pistol Association, an affiliate of the National Rifle Association, is joining the three men in pressing the appeal.

New York’s supporters include Everytown for Gun Safety, an advocacy group founded by Michael Bloomberg, who is the founder and majority owner of Bloomberg LP, the parent company of Bloomberg News. Bloomberg, who is seeking the Democratic nomination for president, was mayor of New York from 2002 to 2013.

Under the New York City rules, put in place in 2001, people with a licensed handgun at home were allowed to take it to one of seven shooting ranges in the city but almost nowhere else. Weapons had to be locked and unloaded during travel, and ammunition had to be put in a separate container.

Shooting Competition

Trump’s top Supreme Court lawyer, Solicitor General Noel Francisco, said in court papers that the restrictions undermined the constitutional right to have a handgun in a house or apartment for self-protection.

“Few laws in the history of our nation, or even in contemporary times, have come close to such a sweeping prohibition on the transportation of arms,” Francisco argued.

The three gun owners say they sued after the organizers of a 2012 New Jersey shooting competition said New Yorkers couldn’t take part because they couldn’t legally bring their handguns. The residents say competitions give them a chance to improve their shooting proficiency.

One of the three, Staten Island resident Romolo Colantone, also says he’s had to stop taking his handgun to his second home in Hancock, New York, in the Catskill Mountains region.

“The Colantone Hancock house is located in a remote area, and as such presents a threat to the safety of myself and my family while there,” Colantone said in a sworn statement in 2013.

The city contends that the residents have adequate opportunities to train within New York City. The gun owners “did not argue, let alone offer any evidence, that the rule meaningfully impaired their ability to train,” New York City Corporation Counsel Zachary Carter argued.

Rules Scrapped

City officials also say Colantone can apply for a license to keep a handgun in his Catskills home.

A federal appeals court upheld the restrictions, saying New Yorkers could go to local shooting ranges, use rented weapons at out-of-town facilities, and acquire additional weapons for second homes.

But the city’s best chance may be that the Supreme Court will conclude the case has become moot. After the justices accepted the case in January, the city amended its regulations to let licensed handgun owners transport their weapons to second homes and shooting ranges outside the five boroughs. The state reinforced that change by amending its handgun licensing statute.

“Once the Supreme Court took the case, those who favor gun control didn’t want the Supreme Court to rule,” said Ilya Shapiro, a lawyer at the libertarian Cato Institute who filed a brief backing the gun owners.

The city told the court that the residents now have “everything they have sought in this lawsuit.”

Gun-rights advocates say even the revised regulations are problematic, forbidding a handgun owner from stopping on the way out of town, requiring written permission to take a weapon to a gunsmith, and precluding transport to a summer rental house. The residents urged the Supreme Court not to reward New York’s “undisguised effort to avoid a precedent-setting loss.”

Political Fight

The mootness fight has taken on political dimensions. In August, Democratic Senator Sheldon Whitehouse of Rhode Island and four colleagues filed an unusually pointed brief that said the court would be undermining its own legitimacy if it ruled in the case.

The Democrats’ brief pointed to the millions of dollars spent by outside groups on recent Supreme Court battles. Trump’s two appointees, Neil Gorsuch and Brett Kavanaugh, were confirmed in the Senate on nearly party-line votes.

“To stem the growing public belief that its decisions are motivated mainly by politics, the court should decline invitations like this to engage in ‘projects,’” the Democrats argued, highlighting a word the challengers used in one of their court filings.

Whitehouse’s brief provoked an equally sharp response from Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell of Kentucky and his Republican colleagues. They told the justices to “stand firm” and “not be cowed by the threats of opportunistic politicians.”

Trump has had strong support from gun owners and the National Rifle Association since his 2016 campaign. He has occasionally stated support for expanded background checks -- particularly when mass shootings lead to a public outcry -- but later backed off, expressing doubt they would be effective in curbing gun violence.

The administration is urging the Supreme Court to decide the case, telling the justices the dispute is still meaningful because residents could seek damages.

The court has hinted it may want to rule. In October, the justices refused to dismiss the case as moot but said they would revisit the issue at the argument.

Decade of Waiting

The court hasn’t heard a Second Amendment case since it threw out a Chicago handgun ban in 2010. That followed a 2008 decision that for the first time said the Constitution protects individual gun rights. Since then, the court repeatedly rejected gun-rights appeals before agreeing to take up the New York fight.

Should the court dismiss the New York case, other appeals are pending, and the justices could quickly schedule one of them for the nine-month term that starts in October 2020.

“If they do decide that it’s moot, they’ll have further opportunities,” Shapiro said. “It’s not the end of the world for proponents of the Second Amendment if indeed the case is mooted out.”

One of those appeals is a New Jersey case that could determine whether people have a constitutional right to carry a loaded handgun in public. New Jersey is one of seven states, including California and New York, that bar most people from carrying weapons in public. Federal appeals courts are divided on the issue.

“It’s only a matter of time before the Supreme Court steps in and addresses the scope of the Second Amendment,” Winkler said.

The case is New York State Rifle & Pistol Association v. New York, 18-280.

To contact the reporter on this story: Greg Stohr in Washington at [email protected]

To contact the editors responsible for this story: Joe Sobczyk at [email protected], Laurie Asséo, John Harney

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isthisthingeven0n · 5 years ago

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erased : d.d

brief summary: you offer to help david with his vlog, but accidentally delete a segment

word count: 674 requested: yes by the sweetest anon - thank you love for the idea! warnings: bit angsty initially, but fluffy ending

* masterlistin’ / masterlistin’ 2.0

“Like I said, I don’t mind helping, David.” You remind him as you sit on the other side of the sofa, scrolling through your phone as David heavily sighs.

Lifting your eyes up, you can see him contemplating your proposal. “Just, just edit this section, yeah?” He suggests as he passes over his laptop to you, leaving the section available on a separate file for you. “And, save it with the date for me, thank you.” He leans in, kissing you quickly before walking out from the room and into his own bedroom.

“Easy,” You mutter under your breath as you begin to watch through the footage, a smile on your lips as you relive the last night out you all went on.

After a good half hour of cutting and replaying several clips that David provided you with, you felt good with what you had achieved.

“Hey, Y/n.” You remained oblivious to Ilya wandering through the house as your eyes were locked with the screen, your tongue poking through your lips due to intense focus. “Or not.” He mutters to himself before you snap out of your concentration.

“Sorry, Ilya.” You respond, closing the lid of the laptop before turning to face him. “I offered to help, caught me in deep thought there.” You chuckle, and Ilya brushes it off before heading through to his room.

Turning back around, you place the laptop back onto your lap and log in. But as you hit the enter key, the screen freezes. “Weird.” You mumble under your breath as you try pressing another key, only to see the colour wheel still turning at the same slow pace. “David?” You call him and listen to the bedroom door opening and closing.

The sound of his socks shuffling along the floor catch your attention as you smile up at him. “What’s up?” He asks calmly before averting his gaze from yours to the screen being frozen and his face drops. “Fuck.” He blurts out. “What happened?” He takes the laptop from your lap, wandering over into the kitchen with it before you have a chance to speak up.

“Dave I went to save it and,” You try to explain, but listen as he exhales heavily.

“Great,” He scoffs before facing you with cold eyes. “it’s gone, the whole bit just deleted itself.” He rubs his eyes, ignoring your apologies as you walk over.

“I don’t get how I was just going to save it and the circle came up so I left it,” You repeat yourself as you reach out for his hand, but he bats it away.

Backing away from him, David’s expression softens as you pick up your phone. “Y/n, I’m sorry, I just,” He starts, but you keep your head low as you wander into the yard.

“Well done, David.” Ilya pitches in, peering out from the corridor. “You’ve upset the girl who puts up with your shit, more than Natalie.” He crosses his arms as David sighs.

“Thanks for the reminder, Ilya.” David mutters before heading through the glass doors, hovering by the doorway as you lean against the railings.

Wiping your eyes, you can hear him behind you. “It’s fine, David. I know I got impatient.” You speak up, but David can hear the crack in your voice.

“No, I shouldn’t have reacted like that.” He reasons, walking over and standing beside you. “I just, I treat the vlogs like my children.” He tries to explain but watches as you furrow your brows. “I mean, I like birthed those things.”

A small laugh leaves your lips as you shake your head. “Maybe don’t use metaphors like that, Dave.” You place your hand over his, and David can feel his heart rising ever so slightly at the sight of your smile. “But I get it, and I’m sorry.” You apologise, now facing him as your hip leans against the railing.

“Maybe next time, we’ll just edit the thumbnail?” He suggests and you nod in response.

“Yeah, I think I can handle that responsibility.”

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evansjennings · 6 years ago

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My system list !

🍒: Connor (main host, fictive of Jack Wynand from Bioshock)

🔪: HABIT (co-host, fictive of HABIT from EverymanHYBRID, a prosecutor, his own account is @thenazistomper )

🎃: Clyde (homicide investigator from 1920s, role is a main trauma holder & co-host. speaks with a Texan accent when fronting)

💙: Sal (fictive of Sal Fisher from Sally Face)

🦋: Nines (fictive of rk900 from Detroit: Become Human)

🔫: Sebastian (fictive of Sebastian Moran from Sherlock)

🥊: Jake (one of the main protectors, has been in the system for the longest)

🏮: Hexter (practically an SCP. speaks with a significantly lower tone of voice when fronting. Brothers with Whistler)

🗣: Alister (dad of the system, also a protector. He has a TV head. speaks with a slightly lower tone of voice when fronting)

🔪: Keith (main prosecutor of system, very dangerous. isn’t the best with English and shows it when fronting)

💊: Allen (a trauma holder of the system. has bipolar and is normally manic, causing him to speak somewhat fast & act all over the place)

💉: Ilya (huge trauma holder of the system. shows no emotion in voice or face, will sometimes speak with a Russian accent when speaking. twin brothers with Ivan)

🐀: Alex (fictive of Alex Krycek from The X-Files. Possibly a co-host)

✊: Maxwell (main protector of the system. Closes one eye when fronting, angered very easily)

🎭: Ivan (possibly a prosecutor? was the main host for a period of time. sadomasochistic. will probably speak with a Russian accent to some degree when fronting. Twin brothers with Ilya)

🗡: Moge-ko (prosecutor in the system, has definitely killed a few alters before like Keith has. Fictive of Moge-ko from Mogeko Castle)

🔮: Clarissa (not much is known about it. Clarissa goes by it/it’s pronouns, and that’s about all we know about it)

📺: RGB (fictive of RGB from The Property of Hate)

👔: Jaeger (an angel who served under the goddess of love. He’s very short-tempered)

🥀: Zia (trans girl who’s been involved in cults her entire life)

🐈: Yahtzee (mobster, extremely short tempered and annoyed easily. Has British accent and it sometimes shows when fronting)

🤬: Gavin (fictive of Gavin Reed from Detroit: Become Human)

🚀: Spike (fictive of Spike Spiegel from Cowboy Bebop. He handles a lot of the emotions of the system and is extremely emotional because of it)

👁: Whistler (brothers with Hexter. entire body is just made of eyes.. it’s kind of horrifying. Like Hexter, his existence is just to kill people but he’s not a prosecutor? If you want more details, just ask about Hexter & Whistler)

🖍: Félix (is so traumatized that he’s in a constant state of age regression/in the mental state of a child. Is French but knows English rather well. Technically a system little)

👻: Shane (factive of Shane Madej. Doesn’t believe in ghosts which pisses everyone else in the system off)

🚬: Tim (fictive of Tim Wright from Marble Hornets. smoking triggers him to front normally)

❌: Liam (from the same canon as Yahtzee. more so a bodyguard for the mob more than anything)

🎮: Gibson (gamer & meme machine who has a heart condition but is trying his best. smokes weed to help slow down his heart and memes abt it a lot)

🌸: Sachiel (fictive?? kind of???? trans girl who is not human and is very emotional)

💋: Anthony (the definition of a bubblegum bitch & a white girl tbh, that’s how he be)

#habit.txt #connor.txt #we made this together #did system #actuallydid #dissociative identity disorder #actuallydissociative #actuallymentallyill #alters #alter list

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redwriter-redroses-blog · 7 years ago

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One More Chance chap. 2

It's the same old story. Salem's defeated and teammates go their separate ways. Oscar gets caught in a cycle of repetitive days. As he gets comfortable with his new life, a certain silver-eyed warrior crashes back into his life. Finally, he gains a another chance at a new life. And perhaps even a chance with romance.

"Remember to stay with your assigned group," Marigold announced. "Don't stray too far from the group. While the Jade Forest is impressive, it is still crawling with grimm. Remember that today's hike is only to get you acquainted with basic wilderness survival skills. Do not attempt to fight any grimm you may encounter. Instead inform either Mr. Pine or I and we will take care of it."

Oscar sat near the front of the bus. Marigold stood on her knees as she addressed the entire bus. When she was finished, she slid back down into her seat and faced forward. The whole bus immediately erupted into students' conversations. Marigold groaned and rubbed her temples.

"Hangover?" Oscar asked her.

"Just a small headache from the noise," she replied. A wad of paper went soaring through the air above their heads. Marigold shot up. "Don't throw things!" Another wad of paper came flying, forcing her to dodge. "Jett! Throw one more paper and you have to sit up here with us!"

Oscar fiddled with his collapsed cane. He didn't want to get involved yet. Marigold slid back down with a long groan.

"This is going to be a long trip," she complained.

"Tell me about it," Oscar sighed. Marigold started on a long rant about her students before transitioning into stories about her school days and her friends. Oscar ended up zoning out and watching the scenery that passed by the bus.

The trees started being replaced by toppled trees. Oscar perked up at seeing an increase in destruction. Then the bus passed by a destroyed house. The students excitedly murmured amongst themselves. More houses destroyed and crushed started popping up. Then the bus stopped. Oscar stood up to see why the driver stopped. There was a blockade. Oscar got out of his seat and reassured the driver before leaving. Two guards stood by the blockade. They greeted Oscar as he approached them.

"What happened here?" Oscar asked.

"Same as usual. Grimm," the first guard answered.

"A large horde of them," the other added. While grimm were steadily disappearing from the world, they were still around in abundance. "We have a huntress working to exterminate them right now. We don't want any ordinary civilians entering the area in the meantime. Too dangerous."

"My name is Oscar Pine. I am a teacher at Signal and a skilled huntsman. This is a field trip of students from Signal. I have paperwork to say we're allowed into the Jade Forest today, if you would like to see it." Oscar fished around in his bag for the paperwork. He presented them to the guards. The two exchanged looks before quietly consulting with each other.

"Alright. Please be careful," the first guard said. Oscar returned to the bus as the guards moved to open the blockade for the bus.

"I am going to remind you of what Ms. Pearson said when we left. There will be a lot of grimm today so remember to be safe and don't stray from the group under any circumstances." Oscar sat back down in his seat. The bus started moving again and Marigold tapped him on his shoulder.

"Is it really that bad?"

"They said it was a horde, but a huntress is taking care of it."

"That's good. We'll be able to step in if anything happens!" Marigold stated determinedly. Oscar smiled kindly at her. He absentmindedly traced the swirls on his cane. It had been a long time since he heard about any large hordes of grimm in Patch. It worried him.

The bus pulled into the entrance of the Jade Forest. The students filed out of the bus, each with varying levels of excitement for the hike. Oscar began his lecture on the wildlife in the area and how to survive in an area such as this. The group came across a large clearing and Oscar gave the students their first task. He sat on a rock on the far side of the clearing as he watched his students build small tents from leaves and branches.

###

"I don't understand this!" Nora complained. She held two large branches in her hand. "If it rains you could just camp out in a cave or something!"

"You're not always going to find a cave, kid," Qrow leaned against a tree as he watched them work.

"I'm sorry that I pulled you into this…" Oscar piped up. He held some sticks together as Jaune and Yang worked on tying them together.

"Don't worry about it." Sun replied. He was high in a tree, tossing down branches and leaves for them to use. "We needed to set up camp anyways."

Half of the group was working on setting up a camp. Ren had even started preparing dinner with the help of Ilya and Weiss as Blake worked on starting the campfire. The other half had opted out of camp preparation to help Oscar with learning to build a small shelter. They called it "training reasons," but really Nora and Ruby had just wanted to build a fort.

"There, that should do it." Yang stepped away from the shelter. Oscar and Ruby, who were tasked with holding up the branches, let go with sighs of relief. Ruby squealed.

"It's so cool!" She began crawling into the little shelter.

"Don't forget the leaves!" Nora started piling leaves on top of the sticks of the shelter. Ruby excitedly bounced as she watched the sky start to be shaded by the piles of leaves.

"Oscar! Come in here! This is so cool!" Oscar slowly crawled into the little shelter. There was barely enough room for the both of them. They sat shoulder to shoulder on the damp ground. He wasn't as excited over the shelter as the others were. "Isn't this cool?!"

Ruby turned to him with excitement sparkled in her silver eyes. Her face radiated joy. Oscar couldn't help but smile too. He felt awkward but sitting next to her in the little twig shelter made his chest feel warm. He turned his gaze to stare at his feet. He felt that if he looked at her too long, he would go blind.

"Yeah… it's pretty cool," he smiled. Ruby's grin became wider and Oscar could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

"My turn!" Nora announced. There wasn't enough room for all three of them. Oscar decided to leave to make room.

###

"Hey Oscar!" Marigold came to sit next to him. She stretched her arms. "I know that I'm supposed to help everybody as revenge for not taking the troublemakers, but you're a jerk for making me run around like this."

"I am?" he replied with a joking tone.

"You looked pretty lost in though over here. What were you thinking about?"

"Just thinking about the past. I remember when I learned how to make a stick shelter."

"Ah. Fun times."

"Yeah… it was…" Oscar sighed in reminiscence.

He looked over the students as they worked. Some were working on overly-ambitious shelters that looked more like forts. Some had made their forts already with the help of their semblances and their group was hanging out around their little shelter. Luckily everyone was working. It was peaceful… too peaceful…

"Hey Marigold? Where are the troublemakers?" Oscar asked.

"Last I saw them they were right over there…." Her sentence trailed off as she pointed to an abandoned pile of sticks. Oscar groaned and stood up.

"They are so dead when I find them. Stay here and look after the other students. Let them eat lunch when they're finished or something."

"Got it." Marigold saluted. Oscar stomped into the woods.

Oscar opened his scroll. He had all of his students' contacts. He opened Cole's contact and called him. There was no reply. Oscar's eyebrows scrunched up. He tried Hector. Same result. Finally, he tried Jett. Still nothing. Now he was frustrated.

He heard a beowolf's howl. Oscar froze. That was never a good sign. He took off running towards the noise. His heart pounding in his ears. He feared the worst. What if his students were being attacked by beowolves?! He ran closer and saw something in the distance. It was people running towards him. They had terrified looks on their face. Oscar recognized them to be Cole and Hector. There were tears streaming down their cheeks when he approached. Oscar was panting, but managed to get some words out.

"What happened?!"

"Beowolves! A-A lot of them!" Cole blurted out. Oscar put a hand on both of their shoulders.

"We will discuss this matter later. For now, get back to the group and stay with Ms. Pearson."

"But Jett is still over there!" Hector cried out.

"Just do as I say! I will get Jett!" He pushed both of their backs as he continued to run. The beowolves' growls were getting louder. Their dark heads peered over the tall bushes and undergrowth.

A beowolf could sense his anger. It came charging at him. Oscar extended his cane and stabbed the grimm. He slid underneath its feet and repeatedly hit its back before jumping onto its shoulders. He pierced its head. It collapsed and started disappearing.

Oscar jumped off and continued his advance. He burst through the brush and landed in a small clearing. He spotted Jett on the other side, cowering by a tree. Oscar immediately jumped up, landing on the head of the nearest beowolf. He leaped onto the next one, using their heads and shoulders as stepping stones. He saw a beowolf readying to attack Jett. Oscar quickened his pace. He leapt at the beowolf and stabbed it in the back, through to its front. The grimm fell.

Oscar looked down at the grimm as it disappeared. He took the moment to catch his breath.

"Jett!" Oscar roared. He was beyond furious now.

"M-M-Mr. Pine! Look out!" Jett called.

Oscar whipped around. He held out his cane to block any attack that may come at him. He saw a beowolf with its claws out, arms lifted to attack. Oscar waited for it to slash at him so he could counter it.

Except it didn't. There was a flash of red before his eyes and the beowolf was down. A figure stood before him, clad in a red cape that flowed with the wind.

"Are you his teacher? Please get him out of here right now," a soft voice came from the huntsman. Oscar's blood turned to ice. He knew that voice. It was sounded a little different, but it was hers. She turned around. His eyes met with those beautiful silver eyes.

"Ruby?!" The name escaped Oscar's lips before he could do anything about it. She took off her hood. Long, flowing black hair spilled from the hood.

"Oscar?!" Ruby gaped. Before either of them could say anything else, a grimm growled, reminding them of their current situation. They immediately fell into a natural battle position. Their backs pushed together and their weapons readied.

"Jett get out of here now." Oscar demanded. He couldn't tell if Jett obeyed him. He focused on counting the grimm surrounding him.

"There should be about a dozen grimm left," Ruby reported. Oscar heard the distinct chink as Ruby released her cartridge and loaded another one.

"I'm guessing you have a plan. What do you need?"

"Not much. You have two minutes then get out of the way. Corral them into one spot, please."

"You got it."

Ruby and Oscar leaped into action. He hit the nearest beowolf, knocking it back. He rushed at a straggler, pushing it back into the center of the clearing. He knocked a beowolf approaching from behind Ruby. She shot at them, refusing to let them past some imaginary line.

Two minutes were up. Oscar jumped out of the way. He landed where Jet hadn't moved from his tree. Then Ruby started running. Oscar knew what she was doing. He grabbed Jett and pushed him into the nearest bush as the wind started to pick up. The clearing transformed into a storm of red rose petals. The beowolves trapped in the middle. Then Ruby broke away. She skidded to a stop and held Crescent Rose behind her as she readied for the final cut.

Crescent Rose extended. A red light blasted from it, creating a larger version of Crescent Rose. Ruby dashed forward. In an instant all the grimm were slashed at once. They disappeared into black smoke.

Ruby sighed in relief and put Crescent Rose away.

"That was awesome!" Ruby cheered. She waved to the two in the bushes. Oscar came out with a smile on his face. Ruby dashed over and pulled him into a hug that nearly toppled him to the ground.

"It's sooo good to see you again!" Ruby grinned.

"It's been a really long time," Oscar laughed. Ruby let go of him.

"Look at you! You're so much taller than me now!" She stood on her toes to measure the height difference between them.

"And… you've grown your hair out." Admittedly Oscar didn't know what else to say. Nevertheless, Ruby took a long lock of hair in her fingers and played with it.

"Yeah… well I though it would be a cool change."

"It looks good."

"Thanks!" Ruby beamed. There was a moment of awkward silence between them. "Sooo… you're a teacher now?"

Oscar remembered Jett was standing right there. He also remembered his rage from the boy running off.

"Will you excuse me for a minute?" Oscar parted from Ruby. His entire attitude changed. "Jett!"

Jett flinched at his teacher's enraged expression. It was rare that Oscar got mad. His students had never seen it before. Even Ruby looked a little surprised by his outburst.

"You blatantly broke the rules and ran off on your own. To top it off you almost got yourself and your friends in danger! When we return to school, you are to report to the headmaster. You will be suspended for a week, minimum. Am I clear?!" Jett meekly nodded.

"Wow Oscar, you're taking this teacher thing really seriously," Ruby commented.

"Not now, Ruby. I'm trying to do my job."

"Well we weren't exactly the 'rule-abiding' type either." Ruby shrugged. She walked up to Jett. "I think you'll be a great huntsman one day. But first you need to learn to put others before yourself. Being a huntsman isn't about killing the most grimm or rushing straight into battle. It also requires a lot of looking around and evaluating the situation. If you run head first into a fight, you could get yourself hurt of worse, your friends and teammates."

Ruby looked at Oscar for encouragement. Oscar only sighed, hearing Ruby's words dissipated all the anger from his body. He was relieved to know that that part of her still hadn't changed.

"So? What are you doing out here?" Oscar asked Ruby.

"Hm? Oh before that… Hey Oscar… does the world seem to be spinning to you?"

#rwby #fanfiction #rwby fanfiction #fanfic #rwby fanfic #rosegarden #rwby rosegarden #ruby rose #rwby ruby #rwby rub rose #oscar pine #rwby oscar #rwby oscar pine #rosepine #rwby rosepine #One More Chance #omc c2 #omc

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