Again how is his thumb so fricking long 🤣

The high notes 🫠🫠

Via Miles’ insta a few impressions from last night at the Eden project

It’s my Birthday today and I wanted to start it off with updating a fic I’m enjoying writing. Hope you enjoy the read. : )

[Fate Grand Order AU fic] The Kid (pt: 1, ... 8, 9, 10, 11, ?)

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“Okay so, sorry, I’m still doing a little catch-up,” mutters Robin as we reach another corner and pause. Ahead, Emiya holds up a hand for us to halt and we do.

“Robin, do you have the mana for May King?” I hear Emiya’s voice in my head. Which, I appreciate being looped in on. Kind of thought he was going to be more of a pain to work with just because he could be, but he’s surprisingly practical and easy to work with for the uncooperative introduction we have. He seems real familiar with Robin’s abilities; gotta wonder where and when exactly they did meet—'specially since Robin barely seems to remember him at all.

Unlike me, poor Ritsuka looks like the frequent mental chatter is still something she’s trying to get used to; zones out a little every time someone communicates this way. I get it—took me a while to not be weirded out myself my first time summoned, and that was with the ability coming naturally, since I was a spirit.

“Hold that thought,” whispers Robin to me, then mentally to us all, “Yeah, a few times if it’s short. This important?”

“It’s not a difficult hall,” replies Emiya mentally, “But there’s too many people interacting with their security measures, and we haven’t gotten enough of us free yet. If we can’t disarm the magecraft security system and their personnel at once, someone might stay up just long enough to hit an alarm, and I’d prefer we free as many of us as possible before they figure out what we’re up to, since-“ He almost hesitates, glancing at Ritsuka for a split second, but he doesn’t. “-they might just start to kill them.”

Makes sense. I know it. They have catalysts to get us all back, and we have no idea where those are. I hate it, but he’s right—they’d definitely do it. Pretty sure I see Ritsuka connecting the same dots.

“Roger. I’ll move ahead into position,” says Robin mentally, cracking his neck as he moves up, “Give me about six seconds to find a good vantage point, then I’ll go as soon as I sense mana from you going after the security system.”

“Can we help?” asks Ritsuka worriedly in my head.

“If something goes wrong,” replies Robin telepathically, “Hopefully we won’t need it.” He stands then. “Sorry Mast—Ritsuka. I’m going to take a little bit out of you with this, but it’s only a skill, utilized this way, so it shouldn’t be too bad.” At my side, Robin glances down and gives a nod, then vanishes—not to spirit form, just flat out invisible. God it’s so cool! It always has been. Wish I could vanish like that; be useful as hell when dodging pursuers or trying to get an edge! Wish it was a thing he could teach me, but it don’t work like that—it’s a skill earned in life, and it’s all the thief of the forest’s.

Ahead, Ritsuka’s eyes widen as she watches him vanish, but she follows where I think he might be—she’s connected more than we are to each other, so she probably has a better idea than I do. Honest, it’s weird to have a guess where he is at all; I...don’t think I’ve ever been co-servant to someone before. It’s different, but, I like it. I like having a team. I mean, I’ve had allies before, but this ain’t the same. I can sense Robin a little myself like this, but I gotta wonder just how different it feels to be a master.

Emiya places his hand against the wall and whispers somethin’, and I feel a pulse of mana from him and hear the sudden ‘flishk’ of drawn bow strings releasing and movement, plus one choked, barely audible cry, then several quiet thuds all in rapid succession.

“Clear,” comes Robin’s voice in our heads.

Emiya smiles and steps out, Ritsuka and me behind him, and Robin materializes ahead of us between five guards sprawled unconscious along the ground. Kinda amazed how well we’re doing so far—damn it I’m gonna jinx us, but still! Non-lethal is way harder, and we’re still doing ok.

Looking amazed by the scene, Ritsuka rushes up to Robin. “Wow, that was incredible!” she whispers excitedly, “How do you do that?  —How did you know he could do that?” she adds, turning big eyed to Emiya.

Robin and Emiya share a glance, slightly awkward. Huh, don’t seem like Emiya knows him too well, from the way he’s lookin’ at him; which makes it weirder he knows so much about his skills. Maybe…they fought? They don’t seem hostile to each other at all, but somethin’ like a Holy Grail War, where mages force you to kill each other, God knows I’ve fought my share of people I had no desire to kill and who really had no desire to kill me either. I could see it bein’ somethin’ like that. …Maybe?

“It’s uh, an inherited custom from the Celts,” says Robin, “I picked up some tricks, when I was on the run so much, and I guess it was pretty good, because as a servant, it lets me do that.”

Ritsuka looks at Emiya for his half of an answer.

“...We’ve met,” offers Emiya vaguely.

“Oh,” says Ritsuka in surprise, “So. You and Billy and Robin-?”

“—No, we never met,” I interject, gesturing between me and Emiya.

“Okay, so, different times?” checks Ritsuka, “When-”

“-I don’t mean to be rude,” says Emiya gently, “But we don’t really have time to discuss this.” He gestures to the waiting door and Ritsuka flushes.

“R-right—I’m sorry—it’s just interesting how you all meet and I want to know more—“

“-Hey, don’t worry kid,” says Robin, clapping her on the back, “I’ll tell you anything you want to know later. To answer your question,” he adds casually, moving to the door and drawing back a leg to kick, “I’m not sure about him, but I don’t remember.” With one solid slam from his foot, Robin snaps through the remaining physical lock on the door so it slides open, and in the one second before I’m distracted by what’s inside, I notice Emiya raise an eyebrow. Huh. So you do remember.

I get a glimpse into the room ahead then, and every thought goes out of my head. Except ‘The...hell?’

It’s different. It’s so different. I know it’s only been me and Robin so far, but it’s not the death bed with a withered corpse I expected at all. The spirit in this room is very much alive, and it is furious.

The cell is circular, with more seals carved into and drawn on the floor and walls and ceiling than I can process, and the spirit is dead center of them all, with heavy, bulky, painful looking restraints locked around his feet and forearms, another thick band around his waist and more on his thighs, his neck, his upper arms, each attached to a different heavy chain drawn taut, tugging in opposite directions of each other and making it as close as it can to impossible for him to move at all. He’s got a blindfold on too, also metal and painful looking, and a gag, but he’s not kneeling under the weight of it all like I was, or immobile and weak like Robin; he’s thrashing madly with the tiny, limited movement he has. His head snaps in our direction when we enter, and I hear his muffled, angry shouts even from here. He’s choking himself and ripping at the skin on his arms and legs and neck, but still, he’s fighting—and wildly. In fact, I’m pretty sure the seals around the room are the only thing keeping him captive at all.

It hurts to watch, seeing one of us rip blindly at his restraints, trying to break free like a dog being forced into in a fighting ring. But, I’m also impressed. Astounded. He doesn’t seem scared at all, just angry, and there’s something reassuring about it. ‘Specially since he’s short too.

“Huh,” says Emiya, the same look on his face I figure is on mine, and is definitely on Ritsuka. She snaps out of it first though, and starts to rush toward the blinded spirit, then hesitates because we’ve all balked too.

“...Can’t one of you break the locks? Like for Robin?” asks Ritsuka worriedly, half-turning to face us.

“Probably, but we don’t know what happens if we step in the circle,” explains Emiya, indicating the etchings above, below, and all around us.

“Yeah, I don’t speak mage runes, but I’m pretty sure that says some version of ‘if you’re a heroic spirit, get fucked,‘ ’cause I can feel that from here. —I got you though,” I add quickly, “move a little left and I’ll shoot one from here.” Thank God for long ranged skills! Both of the others seem chagrined I’m the first to think of this; can’t decide if I should be proud, or insulted by that.

Ritsuka hops to the side, and I aim, but I hesitate again with my gun drawn. The man in front of me is blinded and I don’t think he can hear well, because he ain’t reacted to anything we’ve said—only our presence—and he’s flipped out. If I free him, he might lash out, and Ritsuka is closer than we are. I’d rush in, of course, but I have no idea if stepping in that circle would paralyze me.

“Hey Boss—Partner?” I correct, lowering my gun just a little, “I don’t think he can hear well with that thing on his head. He’s panicked and angry—might be a bad idea to cut him loose without explaining who we are. Even if he don’t attack us, he’s probably gonna make a lot of noise, and we don’t need that.”

“Oh,” says Ritsuka, looking from him to me. Ahead, the spirit lunges in our direction with a fury I understand and makes me pretty sure I’m right that he has no idea who we are.

“Think you can calm him down? I could shout from here, but we don’t wanna he heard, and you probably got a better shot anyway. Not sure how much he can hear, but he’s gotta be able to hear a little, since he seems to know where we are without his eyes. Try talking to him—let him know we’re here to help ‘fore I break him free?” I suggest.

“Uhm,” she says, looking from him to me, “I’ll try.”

I feel bad immediately, seeing the moment of fear in her before she moves forward, so I take another step, close as I can get without hitting the circle, and call after her, “Don’t worry! Promise; he makes a move to hurt you, I’ll stop him before he even gets close; easy shot from here, ‘n I’m a crack shot—I won’t miss. ‘N don’t worry—won’t hurt him too much, either,” I add with a wink.

She glances back and smiles at me, worry mostly evaporated, and I grin back.

“Okay,” she whispers to herself, and then she turns to the bound figure up ahead.

He hears her coming, and there’s a muffled scream of rage from him as he tears at the chains holding him back. We’re not any of us an easy thing to contain, and I can sense how much he knows it, how furious and how ready to make whoever did this pay.

Beside me, I sense movement and out of the corner of my eyes, and I make out Robin and Emiya both moving, Emiya first, materializing a bow and readying a shot like I am, Robin doing the same with an arrow on his crossbow, but pivoting to keep an eye behind us, on the hall. Bases covered.

Carefully, Ritsuka takes another step, edging closer. About fifteen feet from him now in the big room. He definitely knows where she is—even blindfolded, his head moves with her and he thrashes in her direction as threateningly as he can like he is. The restraints on his legs and arms are bulky, so I can’t see his hands or feet, but the places they end on his forearms and calves are bleeding from his attempts to rip free.

“I-it’s okay,” says Ritsuka, taking another careful step over one of the taut chains, and putting her hands up calming and nonthreateningly as she proceeds moving closer. He can’t see her, but of course she still is. “It’s alright. We a-”

The spirit uses his neck to rip the chain around it back with all his might, and I realize almost too late it’s the one she’s just now carefully stepping over.

I can’t think of a way to stop it long-distance, so I bolt. The second my foot goes over the first seal though, I feel an intense amount of mana hit me, and I knew it was coming, but it’s SO much worse than I expect, and I can’t move. It’s so much. It’s agonizing, like being hit with a bolt of lightning! The hell kind of seal-! Fuck! I—can move, damn it! I will!

I can! I can. I just... It takes immense effort, but I feel my muscles starting to move. I’m gonna be way too late—I should— 

Arm throbbing with pain, I drag my hand up to level a shot as the chain snaps into her leg and she yelps and pivots forward. If he has a real plan and some way to grab her, least I can shoot him first, but something closes around the back of my vest and I’m flung backwards with force onto the safe ground outside.

“Idiot!” calls Emiya irritated over his shoulder, “You don’t have the magic resistance of an Archer! Stay out there!”

He’s...right, but. Even Robin and he shouldn’t...?

How is he doing that?

It’s been less than two seconds and he’s already there. He barely even lost steam throwing me. I-I am watching him shoot to her side with such speed I could almost swear he teleported, through a bounded field. He catches Ritsuka like it’s nothing while she’s still in the air, and rights her as she yelps in surprise, then jumps and flings himself back out of range of the circle, landing just outside it far on the right side with a little wince and a grimace. I gape at him from on the ground. It did hurt then, doing that. The field—It did hit him. He just...got through? The hell kind of magic resistance you got? I know Archer’s a knight class and that gets you some, but...

This is something else. I don’t know what. I-I didn’t think any of us could move in there, once I felt it; that can’t just be magic resistance can it? But it’s something. I want to ask, but I know it’s not the time. He glances at me though, after making sure Ritsuka is fine and giving her a nod when she checks over his should to see if everything is okay and she should keep going, and I realize to my surprise I’m pretty sure he’s doing the same with me—checking in to see I’m okay. I manage a nod as well.

“You okay?” asks Robin from behind me.

“Yeah,” I answer. My gun’s been leveled the whole time, but I’m only now remembering to get to my feet again, and do, eyes on the chained spirit the whole time, “Those things always sting, but it ain’t as bad as some other recent memories.”

I kind of expect Robin to say something back, but he doesn’t, so I turn 100% of my attention to the people in the middle of the room.

“It’s okay!” tries Ritsuka again, facing the bound spirit but hesitating to move forward out there now, “Please stop fighting us! I’m not an enemy; we’re trying to help you, I swear!”

I don’t feel a change in the atmosphere at all—the spirit is still radiating anger—but he stops tearing at his bindings for a moment when she speaks and just stands there breathing hard, blindfolded eyes turned towards her and blood running down his neck and limbs.

“Thank you,” says Ritsuka, smiling and holding up a hand in thanks with the word even though he can’t see it, before moving forward again, “If you just listen, I-I can explain—I promise, we’re not here to hurt you. We aren’t with the people who locked you up. We broke in here to try and help. Everyone but me in here is another heroic spirit, and we’re all trying to help you—help all the spirits trapped in here!”

The man stays still and tilts his head slowly, considering her. Mistrustful, I think, like I was. But he’s hopeful, or desperate, too—not sure why they’d send her to lie, which is enough to make you hope.

“I-I’m gonna get a little closer now, okay?” says Ritsuka, edging towards him again, “And see if I can get any of those chains off you. The others can probably do it if I can’t, but they’re all spirits so they’re having a hard time getting past the uh—the seals.”

He tilts his head back upright and then the other way, and tracks her movement by sound as she gets closer. The guy is still breathing heavy and clearly on edge, but he lets her get close this time. 

When she reaches him, Ritsuka holds her hand up. I don’t think he’s going to lash out, but I don’t trust like that—‘specially knowing the pressure he’s under firsthand—and so I keep my gun trained on his shoulder.

“I’m gonna touch you, okay? To see if I can figure out how this is fastened. P-Please don’t hit me.”

She stutters nervously on that last line, and I see just a little of the tension in the man’s shoulders loosen. Interesting. I guess that means whoever he is, he ain’t the most hardened sort, if he’s feelin’ empathy for a stranger while trapped like that.

Ritsuka moves a little to the side for a better look and touches the back of the shackle blinding him, and he flinches and pulls away a half-inch on impulse, breathing quickening for a second, then goes still again. This must be agonizing for him.

“Really is okay!” I call out in a hushed voice, even though like that he probably can’t hear me. I can’t risk drawing security, but-

Emiya side-eyes me for a second. I can’t tell if the look is annoyed or amused. Guess it don’t matter.

“Okay—it’s pretty simple. Just a little bolt again,” says Ritsuka in relief. I hear a metallic ‘click’ and then she’s pulling the metal blindfold off him, and there’s a fairly young man—maybe early 30s at a guess—looking back at her then. He’s not very bulky, and taller than me, but not tall, kinda long and shaggy green hair, and a face I don’t recognize at all with red marks all over it where the metal bit in, a few little trickles of blood runnin’ down his forehead and cheekbones from it. The most notable thing though is the expression on his face. He registers Ritsuka’s form as she lowers the blindfold and his eyes go wide. The man blinks at her a few times, then quickly looks up, clocks me and Robin and Emiya, seems relieved, and looks back questioningly at Ritsuka. Almost all of his readiness to lash out has vanished in an instant.

“Hi,” says Ritsuka, smiling at him, “I’m Ritsuka Fujimaru. Nice to meet you. Thank you for not hitting me.”

The man blinks again, and gives her a little nod. I see more of his tension ease. 

“I’m really sorry this happened to you. We’re here to help—those two were stuck here too.” She pauses to point to me and Robin, and I give him a little hat tip, Robin a two-fingered wave in acknowledgement.

Our Master—I mean partner—friend? —Ritsuka, she looks down at some of the other oddly bulky shackles, and then back up at the now much more calmly waiting man. I’m trying to guess who he could be. We had letter, earring, kunai, and a pot, according to her, ‘long with my and Robin’s catalysts. He’s definitely not Asian—looks maybe...middle eastern, Semitic? Not sure though. Either way, I’m willing to bet he’s not the kunai, so that leaves broken pot, earring, and letter. None of which help much. I don’t have a good guess, and that’s only if they haven’t gotten more since Ritsuka saw catalysts anyway, but, whoever he is, he seems level-headed and decent at least, so I’m takin’ this all so far as a good sign.

“The ones on your arms and legs have real locks, so I’m not sure I can get them—I’ll have to have one of the guys shoot them off from outside the circle,” says Ritsuka, looking sorry. 

I look at Robin and Emiya, because what I got’s loud; the two of them exchange looks, and Emiya sighs and turns to study the chains for a second, then summons a long, thin…arrow? and draws.

“But let me get the gag first—I think I can get that too,” says Ritsuka smiling at the man as she reaches up to do it. Much less on his guard now, he stoops for her to make it easier to reach, still watching her carefully though. Or, actually, interested more than careful, maybe, at second glance. Huh. Very level-headed man.

The gag makes a snap sound, and Ritsuka pulls it off. Relieved, the man opens his mouth and kind of rolls his jaw, trying to get the taste of it out, then straightens back up and smiles at Ritsuka. “Well thank you very much, for that and the rescue.”

Unbelievably calm. But I don’t think he’s being fake—he’s just got some kinda personality.

“Where did you come from, Miss...Fujimaru, yes?” he asks, and she nods, “How did someone as young as you end up-” he tries to gesture, immediately hits already taut chain, and winces, “-here?”

“Wrong, or, right, depending on how you look at it, place at the right time,” answers Ritsuka.

He’s definitely curious, but he just gives a nod of acknowledgement.

“Oh—before you do that,” she says to Emiya, then turns back to the man, “Uhm, you’re probably connected to the building somehow, and if we break those, you’ll run out of mana. Or. You aren’t actually that hurt,” she adds like she’s only just now really thinking about it, “But you’ll still vanish pretty fast if we sever your connection to mana, won’t you?”

“Yes and no,” says the man, clearly surprised by how much she has figured out, “You’re right they somehow altered the contracts to let the technology itself provide us with mana, and we can break the contracts physically, like you would killing a Master, by breaking the machine.”

“Why?” she asks, lost.

“They want to sell us. This makes us easily transportable, and it’s not like a mage could support one of us alone outside a ritual easily anyway,” says the man, a bit of that earlier rage and spite sinking back into his tone. He refocuses on Ritsuka and smiles again. “But I’m an Archer, so I can survive for a little bit on my own—week or two—without an anchor, since I’m not in terrible shape.”

“Another fucking Archer?” asks Robin without thinking, almost affronted disbelief in his voice and his face when I turn to look and see him gaping.

Wait.

“Oh shit, he’s right! Did they only take Archers? Why??” I ask.

“That is almost upsetting somehow,” says Emiya thoughtfully, “They didn’t summon me, but two and a half out of six of you so far is still super weird.”

“You’d think we’d be less good picks, since we can survive so long on our own. They should be grabin’ Casters or somethin’,” I agree in confusion.

“Wait, all three of you are Archers?” asks the man.

“I’m a gunner,” I say like ‘kind of’ while Robin says “Yeah,” with irritation and Emiya says, “I guess.”

“That is weird,” says the man to Ritsuka, “but I don’t think we have time to discuss it. Their security might not be perfect, but they aren’t idiots.”

She nods. “Uhm, okay. Well, in that case, I guess you don’t need to contract right now to be okay, but if you’d like to—to help you fight better or without worrying about disappearing, you can contract with me—if you want.”

His expression is one of a man hearing something that made complete sense until suddenly it made absolutely none at all. “...C. ...You? But.” He looks over at the rest of us, then back at her, “are none of the others...? -You know, outside a ritual, even a strong mage will be exhausted by that?”

“Oh, I know,” says Ritsuka quickly, nodding, “I’m not good at magic yet, and can’t do almost any spells, but my circuits are weird and apparently I have such a massive pool of mana I can support multiple heroic spirits on my own without a grail or anything!”

He stares at her like that straight up can’t compute. Blinks slowly. Looks at us.

“Yeah,” I say. She looks so proud of herself. It makes me happy! And weirdly proud too.

“It’s true,” agrees Robin, “Got no idea how many she can carry, but we’re three so far, and she hasn’t slowed down a bit.”

“Wow,” says the man, looking back at her with big eyes, “That’s quite a skill.” He considers for a moment and then smiles to himself. “Todah,” he says quietly, almost fondly, and then, “What a blessing; God never ceases to surprise. I will happily take you up on your offer Ba’al, I accept.” He gives a little, awkward and slightly painful looking bow as best he can still bound. “My true name is David, and I am an Archer. Pleased to meet you.”

“Oh,” says Ritsuka, surprised and flattered. She flushes and holds out a hand, then realizes he can’t take one the way it is. He smiles at her and bows his head forward instead, resting it against her outstretched fingers. “Uhm.” She takes a second to find her footing. “My soul becomes your will, your spirit becomes my destiny. If you hear me and agree, accept me and join, Archer.”

It’s softer than I’ve heard her say it before. Funny how many ways I’ve heard it now. Desperate, to me, afraid of losing me. Intense and pleading, to Emiya, begging for help. Kind and intent and sincere to Robin. And now here, soft and happy. I got no idea why that’s all so significant to me, but it is. I feel like I’m gonna remember it. I hope I will.

…I…

….Haven’t thought about that for a while, but now that the thought’s there, my gut sinks and my heart with it.

I might not. …So often, the Throne won’t let us remember anything from a summon once we die and get dragged back to it. God only knows how many Ritsukas I didn’t want to forget as bad as I don’t wanna forget this now, and don’t even get to know to be sad I can’t remember.

I hate that thought. ...

In the center of the room, a light flashes from Ritsuka’s hand at the point of connection, and I can feel a faint attachment of my own to David now. Try to focus on that instead. On how odd it feels to be under the same master as someone else, but not bad—just so different, in a way it’s hard to really get over.

David, he said? Right—which David? WAIT.

“David?” I ask way too fast, interrupting this beautiful moment without thinking, my mind completely blank outside of one sudden fear, “Wait, which David who’s an Archer—you’re not-?”

He looks over surprised and then gives me a kind of sheepish smile. “King David of Israel. Son of Jesse and Nitzevet, father of Solomon, my successor.”

Oh my God. Oh God; fuck—I’m so glad I didn’t shoot him.

Emiya is taking this in stride, but Robin looks at least a little something, and Ritsuka’s eyes have gone huge. “You’re a king? Wait. You’re from. -” She’s floundering, so I step in to save her.

“-King David? I—Hi, Billy the Kid; I’m so honored to meet you! I never met a Biblical-uhh-T-Torah-ical,” shit now I’m floundering worse god damn it; I was trying I—I just never seen someone from the...th-the actual religion that—I practice, before—I.

Totally nonplussed, King David shakes his head dismissively with a smile. “I know what you mean; pleased to meet you all. Please though, just call me David. My days as a King are long past, and on the Throne, I have been called to serve others again. I was a shepherd before I was a king, and I have always been the both. Think of me as just another companion, because right now, it’s who I am.”

“Whoa,” says Ritsuka, still a little pale and in awe, “Th-thank you. Okay, David. I-It’s great to meet you too. —I’m so sorry! What am I doing?! -Emiya, can you?” She glances over and sees his bow drawn, nods, and hops out of his way. 

King David glances at Emiya, then holds perfectly still, and the archer draws a quick series of shots that tear through the restraints nearly simultaneously in a little shower of sparks and screeching metal. Some kinda style; don’t think I’ve ever seen someone shoot what was clearly swords just now off a bow string before. Huh. Who are you?

The chains fall away, and King David raises his arms and looks at his hands, flexes them, and takes in the bruising and lacerations on his body from trying to get free.

“I’ll try to heal you,” offers Ritsuka, stepping up to him. He glances over at her. “I’m still learning, so I’m not sure I can fix it all, but I’m sure I can help!”

He smiles and gives a nod, stoops a little and offers her his arms. She takes them in her hands, scrunches her face up and shuts her eyes, and I sense a quick, small pulse of mana. It’s amazing how much she picked up in one night. I’m kinda in awe, watchin’ the worst bruises fade, and the cuts that are still bleeding close up and start to heal. It ain’t perfect, like me, like Robin, but it’s a hell of a lot, and King David looks pleased and maybe a little impressed himself.

“Thank you, Ba’al,” says King David, “I’m good to go now.”

Ritsuka opens her eyes and beams at him. She’s sweating a little again from the effort, but it ain’t bad. She’s holdin’ up like a champ so far. “Great!” she says, “Let’s get moving, then!” She takes a step and spins right back around back to face King David. “—Oh. Can you walk out okay? Do I need to carry you?”

Kind David looks incredibly tickled by that offer, but he shakes his head. “I’ve got extremely good magic resistance, even for an Archer—I’d love to get out of this seal now though—it’s quite agonizing.” Without extra comment, he slides his hands under her armpits and lifts her up, then speed single-hops right out of the seal, like Emiya did, and sets her down gently. 

“Oh—uh—thanks,” says Ritsuka, surprised but not bothered, “okay—sorry for taking so long,” she adds to us three, “Let’s get to the next one!”

Emiya gives a nod and moves to take point again, motioning us after.

“Question,” says Robin quietly as we slide out into the hall, watching King David’s surprised and little else expression as he takes in the unconscious guards, “I’m uh, really glad for you that you weren’t on death’s door like us—don’t get me wrong—but I thought that was their whole thing. Why were you just kind of...imprisoned? It’s a weird break of form. Might be significant.”

“Oh, that,” says David, “it is a break of form, but it’s not very significant, except I guess as proof they’re not exactly the most seasoned of field mages, no matter how much money, staff, and technical skill they have. They didn’t know which King they were going to get, summoning me. Just the general power of the catalyst—guess they got it not very legally, even for a catalyst. And unfortunately for them, I’m not a great candidate for death-battery-whatever they’re doing, because I died peacefully in my sleep as an old man.”

“The dream,” I say just loud enough for only Robin next to me to hear, and he shoots me a barely restrained smile.

“So then,” continues Robin, “Why keep you? Dangerous to leave one of us alive and motivated to rip shit apart.”

“Mmm,” agrees King David with a nod, “But they weren’t going to keep me. They were going to sell me, contract and all, to the highest bidder. Contacted a lot of mage groups.”

Ritsuka looks so horrified hearing that. It’s sweet, and a little sad, because Robin and I aren’t even surprised by it. It’s not really even odd; it makes sense. That’s how mages act, and that’s how we get treated.

“Any idea who or what for?” asks Robin.

“Hey,” comes Emiya’s voice in our heads, “Uh ahead. Sensing a containment field like the rest, but no guards at all this time.”

“That’s...weird,” says Ritsuka back mentally. She keeps closing her eyes to talk in her head when she starts, and it’s endearingly funny to watch. “I mean...I don’t want to jinx us, but hasn’t this all been...too easy? When I got Billy out, I had a huge explosion and the element of surprise, and no tripped alarms and a working pass, and I still barely got out. Here they’re already on high alert, and we’ve freed three heroic spirits now, and they’re not guarding the rest or checking their rooms?”

Huh. I mean, I’m not as familiar as she is with building security, but she’s right that they’ve been...weirdly placed.

“Yes,” agrees Emiya, tone firm, “it is strange. There are a lot of armed people here, and security, but even with all the luck in the world, it’s almost unbelievable they haven’t pinpointed us yet, and we haven’t hit more security. It’s like...”

“...A trap?” I ask nervously.

“...No,” says Emiya out loud as we all reach a corner and pause together, “It’s like someone’s helping us.”

“What?” says Ritsuka, taken aback.

“There’s too many people weirdly scattered for it to feel like a trap,” says Emiya, “It’s more like watching moves on a shogi board where someone is trying very hard to make sure they lose. The pieces are all here, they just keep...being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or, sure not being in the right one anyway.”

“Nobody helped you before, right?” I ask.

Ritsuka shakes her head.

Considering, King David tilts his head and lets out low ‘hmmmm,’ then says, “…There are people here right now, for me.”

“Hm?” says Robin.

“Other mage groups—their representatives. Rivals, some of them. To bid. It’s possible, not sure, but, someone might be grabbing this opportunity for a little self-serving corporate espionage.”

“God willing,” says Robin, cracking his neck again, “Love it if some selfish spineless little prick picked now to do something that helps us. Enemy of my enemy, and all.”

“That seems plausible, but since we can’t be sure, I know there’s no point saying ‘stay alert’ when we all already are, but, be ready for something to go wrong. It might,” says Emiya, and then he grimaces like ‘maybe shouldn’t have said that,’ looks at Ritsuka, and says, “it also might not. Just pays to prepare.”

She nods, and we all turn to face the hall. Emiya places his hand on the wall again and I feel a faint pulse of mana from him.

“Yup, definitely a servant up ahead. One floor up, almost directly above us. ‘Bout one room further,” says Emiya, pointing, “We can take the elevator shaft—probably less likely to draw attention than destroying the floor, and if we do have someone helping us with some corporate espionage or just a really incompetent new security staff, let’s not make it hard on them to keep going.”

Meeting JJ at the midsummer party and slipping and falling into his arms?

You lived on the Figure Eight, much to your dismay.  It wasn’t as luxurious as literally anyone made it out to be.  You hated it here, every part of it.

You hated the yachting, you hated spending all day on a boat sitting around or playing cards.  You hated golfing, you once even hit your own foot as hard as you could manage with a club just to get out of it.  but most of all, you hated your poser of a family, and their poser friends.

Everything was always about appearances.  Appearing wealthy.  Appearing happy.  Appearing well mannered.  It was all bullshit.

And right now, you hated the Midsummer Party.

You hated it every year it came around.  Nothing made you more uncomfortable than this stupid fucking party.

You’d spend all day getting ready, prettying yourself up to your parents standards.  Caked on makeup, hours of perfecting the braided crown around your head, and even making sure every loose curl that fell around your face was perfectly bouncy.

You’d wear a dress that wasn’t your style, even if it did kinda accentuate your curves...

And then you’d sit around all night, dying of boredom.

Your parents would mingle with their fake friends, brag about you where they could, and you’d wish that you could drink yourself to death.

This year however, you had the privilege of watching a certain blonde waiter make his rounds with drinks and hors d’oeuvres.  You didn’t know he was a server, usually you knew all the servers because you’d spend more time talking to them than any of the Kooks. 

But it was a pleasant surprise.

You'd maybe had a crush on JJ Maybank since grade school.  Even though he was a Pogue and pretty well known for hating Kooks.  You couldn’t help it.

He was so cute.  And he was funny.  And you’ve had this dumb crush on him for the longest time.

You spent most of the night just watching him with heart eyes.  He looked good in a vest and slacks.  Real good.  It made the night a little easier.

However your legs were stating to fall asleep from sitting around all night, and it wouldn’t kill you to do a lap around the party.

Of course as soon as you caught the attention of Rafe Cameron, your mindset changed.

He let out a low whistle, his hand grabbing onto your wrist before you could keep walking.

“(y/n) (y/l/n),” He greeted, eyes raking over your body.

You couldn’t help the scoff that escaped your throat.

“You look good.  Have you been here the whole night? I haven’t seen you around” 

“Yeah, that’s cause I don’t like you” You reminded him, and snatched your hand out of his hold.

You often had to remind Rafe of that fact, but it never seemed to do the trick.

“You want a drink?” He asked, already taking a glass off of a passing server’s tray, handing it out to her.

“No, thanks” You shook your head, and turned to head off in any other direction.

He stopped you again, this time his grip on your wrist tighter than before.

“Rafe cut it out-”

“You know, I don’t get why you don’t just chill out and give me a chance” He said, like it annoyed him.  Your brows furrowed, and you rugged on your hand again.

“Rafe, listen to me when I say this, never in a million years” You said as seriously as you could.

“Jesus Christ! Why do you have to be such a bitch all the time!” He yelled loud enough that he was gaining the attention of Kooks around them.

However, instead of realizing something shady was going on, they all juts walked away in embarrassment.

“Rafe, let me go,” You told him, trying to pull out of his grip again.  “You’re acting like a crazy person” You hissed.

“And you’re acting like a stuck up bitch! Can’t you see that I just like you?” 

Yeah right! You thought, and kicked him in the shin so you could finally yank your arm out out of his slightly threatening grip.

You were successful, for about two seconds.

Because you put too much force into shoving him away from him, you tripped over your heels, and next thing you know you were being sent full force into a server behind you.

Lucky enough for you, that server was quick to react, and suddenly you’re not crashing onto the floor, but you’re being held in the arms of- of course- JJ Maybank himself.

You think this might be more embarrassing than falling on your ass.

“That did not just happen” You mumbled, in shock that you even fell, but that your crush of six years is literally holding you in his very strong arms.

He chuckled, mistaking your comment as a compliment of his grace and swiftness.

“Charmed?” He asked teasingly, and then helped you back to your feet.

You were speechless as you adjusted your dress, and still a bit embarrassed by the whole thing.  JJ didn't seem to mind though.

“Are you alright, though?” He asked, now glancing over to Rafe, who had stupidly stuck around, probably to bother you some more.

“She’s fine, she just tripped” Rafe answered for her, again, stupidly.

JJ already had a bone to pick with Rafe Cameron, but to see him hassling some poor girl who clearly had no interest in him would have been icing on the fucking cake.  So he glared at the Kook before looking back at you.

“Are you alright?” He asked you again, his hand resting on the small of your back.

You could only manage a small nod, because he had very beautiful and very distracting blue eyes.

But when you turned back to Race, you swore you could have swung at him right then and there.

“You son of a bitch-!” You shot forward, about to slap him, or maybe grab him by the neck, you weren’t sure.  But before you could decide, two hands wrapped around your hips and pulled you away.

“Woah there firecracker,” JJ laughed at your outburst, then a bit by surprise. “Let’s not make a scene”

You ignored him, for once, trying again to lunge at Rafe, but two arms wrapped around your middle, pretty much trapping you in place.

And then you were being dragged away completely, because JJ was starting to get the feeling that you were more of a fighter than you seemed

“I swear to god Rafe, if you ever touch me again I will hit you with my car!” You screamed after him, despite JJ dragging your ass away from him.  “If you even look at me again I’ll do it! I will!” 

“Okay, calm down princess,” JJ hushed once he got you around a corner, away from the prying eyes of the Kooks.  

He finally released his hold on you, and despite really wanting to, you didn’t make a break to finish what Race started.  You stayed put in front of him.

“The hell was that about? He bother you often?” He asked, his hands on his hips like he was scolding you.

Well, he was scolding you.

“Often? Try every day.  It’s Rafe.  You know Rafe, right?” You scoffed.

It dawned on JJ that he didn’t know you all that well, which was odd, because your personality was bursting at the seams, and so far you seemed pretty cool.  For a Kook.

“Right,” He chuckled.  “Something tells me though that you’ve never tried to kill him before” 

He was still laughing, and your brows furrowed, before you crossed your arms.

“Are you making fun of me?” You asked, making him laugh more.

“I mean, you’re kinda hilarious”

“Hilarious? You think I wouldn’t hit that asshole with my car? Because I will- I’ll run him down-”

“I believe you, I believe you,” JJ cut you off before you could say anything too incriminating.  “You’re just, a Kook, is all” 

That didn’t seem to help, as now you were leaning back against the wall you were standing at, and your brow raised.

“And what makes you think that makes me any less murderous, hm?” 

He laughed, and was about to say something stupid, probably.  Some off handed flirty remark that usually worked on the girls around The Cut, but before he could pick one of the lines, a security guard was grabbing him by the back of his vest.

“You’re not a server here, are you?” The large man asked.

“Ooh, tough question.  Am I serving the people? Yes.  Am I being paid? Unfortunately not.  I’d like to have a discussion about a raise though!” 

“Alright, can it Maybank” The guard muttered, not amused one bit by JJ’s clever banter.

You watched with great amusement as JJ was dragged away, similar to the way he’d just dragged you away from Rafe.

“Doesn’t feel too good, does it?” You called with a shit eating grin, following next to the guard.  

Darryl was his name, he always worked the Midsummer Party.

“I like you.  We should hang out” JJ replied smoothly.

You giggled, and tapped Darryl on the shoulder.

“You can let him go, he’s with me” You said in your sweet Kook voice.

“This guy?” Darryl asked, looking down at JJ unsurely.  “Thornton and Cameron just told me he was causing some trouble-”

“Don’t pay them any mind Darryl, they’re just jealous,” You replied, and wrapped your arm through JJ’s as casually as you could manage.  “You know they’re always up to no good” You added for good measure.

The guard still seemed unsure, eyes sliding between you and JJ.  Something didn’t add up.

But he wasn’t paid enough for this.

“He’s your date now?” He asked, mostly because that’s what he would say when inevitably some high ranking Kook got upset at the presence of a Pogue at their party.

“Sure is” You replied confidently.

And just like that, he was heading off, not bothering to ask any other questions.

You grinned, and pulled your arm out of JJ’s.

“So, you want to hang out now?”

___

a/n this was longer than I planned but I like it :3

Motion Sickness Chapter 38

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"How long are you going to follow me, you mute bitch?" With her teleportation and illusions there wasn't much I could do about it. We both knew if it came down to it I'd win, though. I'd shown that earlier. But she could escape anytime she wanted so I couldn't chase after her and end it. I could activate my semblance and smash her around with my strength or speed and win by standing still.

But only by standing still.

I walked past a billboard proclaiming Mercury Black, Emerald Sustrai, Cinder Fall, Hazel Rainart, and the Scorpion as wanted. My friends lived. I'd go spy on them later, when Neapolitan wasn't watching. Just to check up on them. Then I'd head my separate way.

She rapidly poked one finger through a loop in the other hand. "Fuck," I interpreted. She pointed at me. "Myself."

She clapped her hands giddily in her approval and her eyes switched colors.

"I need money," I muttered. "And a new scroll. I don't suppose you have any ideas."

She reached out into an illusion and retrieved a red brimmed hat.

"Ones that don't involve Ruby. I really seriously don't know where she is."

She looked like she didn't believe me, eyebrows furrowed.

"Well tough shit. Unless you want to go another round." She rubbed her chest where I hit her. "I'd be all for that."

She just frowned.

"Fair enough," I said. "Why do you even want to find Ruby?"

She drew a line over her throat and fondled the red and black hat.

"You want revenge for Roman Torchwick."

She nodded.

"Ruby didn't kill your boss." I dropped the harsh news on her.

She cocked her head sideways at me as we walked together through Mistral. It was… it was actually nice to have someone to talk to. Talk at, even. Otherwise I'd be alone with my thoughts and that just wouldn't be good for me. I was still wishy-washy on ending my own life.

I deserved it too. I wanted to die for what I'd done to my friends. I was the culprit, the thief in the night who robbed them of the opportunity of ever being 'together, together.'

At least they were together in death, now.

"A Grimm got him," she frowned up at me at that. "You can't even get revenge." I laughed. "You poor bitch. Not that I'm any better." Who was I supposed to kill in my hunt for vengeance now? Me. And believe me I was thinking of ways of getting to that son of a bitch. Unfortunately he was running out of friends.

An alien goddess had control over my mind. I was little more than a puppet under the right circumstances. I suppose if I had been like a puppet, all uncoordinated, Ren and Nora might have had a chance at subduing me. Instead I'd acted more or less fluid. That was a little scarier. Or a lot.

She smashed one fist into the other.

"If you were going to kill me you would have done it back at the bar. Don't act. You can't pull it off. Not while I'm awake and I assure you I'll be on my guard while sleeping. You won't get it done then either, not with my aura level."

She gave me an adorable pout. Her pink lips pressed together and out. Her pink and brown hair flowing over her shoulders.

"I know how you feel. I need revenge against Cinder. You know her? Cinder Fall?"

Her grin stretched.

"Don't tell me you want to kill her too? Did she get your boss killed? Set him up?"

She nodded.

"That's as good as killing him, I suppose. I think we may be able to help each other. Ruby really didn't kill him. Ruby doesn't have it in her to kill somebody. She always goes out of her way to avoid it."

She frowned and pointed at me.

"She's not like me. I'm a murderous asshole."

She shook her head indicating I'd guessed wrong and pointed at me again.

"What about me?"

She rotated one finger next to her head.

"I am crazy. Don't even get me started. If nothing else I'm suicidally insane. And that doesn't even get to these bugs in my eyes."

She pantomimed doing a line of hyper. Pinching one side of her nose and breathing in.

"I'm not on anything. I'm just fucked up."

She touched the tips of opposite forefingers together.

"What's that mean? It's not the same thing."

We walked in two-sided silence for a few minutes down a rainy street.

"You know where somebody with a loose moral compass can make some money around here relatively fast?"

She pointed a thumb over her shoulder back at Malachite's bar.

"Yeah, I sorta burned that bridge. And it can't involve Don Corneo. I had him tortured. Killed a bunch of his men, too."

Her smile widened looking up at me.

"Oh is that how you get your jollies?"

She just grinned up at me.

"Well I suppose we could just do official huntsman work. That's always lucrative."

She pointed a finger between us.

"Yeah I thought you were following me. That makes it an us. Keep up. Plus I just might be your best shot at murdering Fall. I almost fuckin' had her. And I might know where she's headed next."

She looked at me in surprise.

"Yep. Her and Black, too. Fought them relatively recently."

She put a hand to her mouth and silently laughed at me.

"Yeah they lived. Go ahead and giggle. Next time I'll get one of them. At least one of them. Well, Cinder has the powers of the spring maiden now. It might be even harder than before."

She gave me a confused look. Hell, who was she going to tell? She was… easy to talk to besides. I wasn't sure if it was the muteness but it might be.

"It's a whole thing. Ancient powers passed along person to person. Myths and legends. It's fucking bullshit is what it is. Girls only club. So maybe you could get in on that action."

She silently snorted, full of doubt. A little air escaping her nose.

"It's true. You can be the one to fight her and find out the hard way or you can take my word for it. She's even more dangerous now. And she was already a heaping pile of it before. I surprised her yesterday and I'm only getting stronger from what I've seen but she just added a big helping of power to herself."

She pointed at herself then smashed one fist into her open palm to indicate violence.

"Could you beat her?"

She nodded. Letting me know I'd guessed right.

"Maybe. Maybe before but probably not now. You'd be in serious trouble. I'd be in serious trouble." I let that sink in, I was able to beat this ice-cream girl and if I was not able to beat Cinder that only meant she wouldn't be able to either.  

She made a complicated series of gestures.

"I didn't get that. But it doesn't matter, does it?"

She just frowned at me and I strode forward. She was practically jogging to keep up and I had no intention of slowing down.

The relic jingled by my side as I walked.

"You know maybe it can involve Don Corneo. You up for stealing from a mob boss? It might involve torture and death. I could use someone with your talents."

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Some broken limbs and I learned the news (Neapolitan had clapped at that). Don Corneo was holed up in his mansion with a whole lot of guards and probably a whole lot of money. Evidently he hadn't taken being tortured very well.

Go figure.

Neapolitan or just Neo was working beside me and honestly it felt good to have somebody watching my back, even if they were criminal scum. Which, I mean, beggars couldn't be choosers from their glass houses.

I needed a pseudonym. I could hardly keep calling myself Jaune Arc even though my weapon and face would be recognizable. I needed a haircut and makeover and a new name. I had to hide from my friends as much as it bit at me.

I was lucky they hadn't reported me to the police. The wounds on Nora and Ren's bodies would be unmistakable as coming from my weapon.

More importantly I needed the money to do all that. I was a long ways away from hopping on a horse and riding out to Merlot's laboratory, as much as I may want to. Instead I needed to stay in the city for a while.

That meant laying low and coming up with a heist. I needed money. Enough that I didn't have to worry about it for a long time.

I was struggling to come up with a new name for myself. That was always the hardest part. Names. I thought that as I broke one of Don Corneo's lackeys' fingers.

Neo and I had him tied down in a hotel room on the lower levels. It was dirt cheap and nobody would ask any questions. Especially if we left no body behind.

He screamed into a gag and it came out muffled. Nickel was the name we managed to get out of him.

"Shshsh." I told him. "You're going to tell me the security details on Don Corneo's mansion or I'm going to break every last bone in your body. If you scream I'll hurt you even more than that. Are we clear? Everything goes well and you get to walk on out of here. You might have to find a new boss but that doesn't really matter compared to your life, does it?"

He seemed to realize I was actually waiting for a response and gave a slow shake of his head. I nodded at Neo and she pulled out the gag.

"Now, what's the security look like?"

"He's going to kill you for this, he's going to-"

Neo gave a lecherous grin and stabbed him through the foot. Who was this guy fooling? He didn't even have aura. There was no way the Don cared about him a Lien. Not that we cared considering we were planning to rob him blind. She covered his mouth with the other hand, not that we really needed to down here per se, and looked him in the eye.

Her gaze flickered out like a hungry lizard's tongue to meet his eyes and devour all of the pain therein.

"Boy you don't even have aura. I can fix that for you. Unlock your aura and make it all go away." He was older than me, probably by a few years. Might be twenty-one, twenty-two. I watched him consider it. Aura was a game changer. A kid like him had to know what it meant, what it could mean. It'd mean a pay raise if nothing else. It meant increased survivability. It meant the power to fight back against those dastardly huntsmen.

"I can make the pain go away too. It'll heal you right up, even your broken fingers." They were tied behind his back. Nice and easy within snapping distance. "What's it going to be, my man."

"Fuck you, I ain't your man."

I broke another one of his fingers. Neo stuffed the gag back in his mouth while he screamed.

"We're not making much headway with this one. Might have to kill him and grab a fresh one. Start over." I said it clinically to Neo. Her eyes went wide at the thought of the violence. I even thought maybe the tips of her breasts were protruding more than before from the excitement. She gave a silent laugh and I hoped it was just my imagination. For my part I didn't have a carnage boner.

A murder erection I distinctly did not have. I wasn't a sadist. Just a pragmatist.

I had to admit there was a bit of an endorphin rush at the thought of snapping this guy's neck, though. With Neo's semblance we'd just walked up and grabbed him from the mansion and we'd walked away, under the cover of an illusion.

Suddenly I had some symptoms come at me and I blinked hard at the tactile sensation of bugs in my eyes until they stopped. Nerves firing which shouldn't have been.

"I'm thinking maybe we just hammer the place. Go all in and kill everyone in our way," I said. "Your thoughts, Neapolitan?"

She stamped a foot.

"Beg your pardon, I meant Neo." I hadn't but she seemed content to insist on it now that I'd figured it out. I took it as a good sign.

"M-m-m. M-m-m." Came from under the gag.

"Sorry, do you have friends in there? Some buddies perhaps?"

Neo pulled the gag out of his mouth. Nickel spat on the floor, very much not in our directions. He didn't want another broken finger was what that told me.

"You'll never make it like that. The Don has a safe room. A panic vault. You'll never get in and get what you want that way."

"And you've telling us this now because…"

"I want a cut. He's got millions stashed away. A-and I want my aura unlocked... And I walk free."

So that's how it is. Money talks, money talks. Apparently louder than broken bones could.

"Tell me about this panic room."

"It's got Titania walls and big electric locks."

"What kind?"

"The fuck should I know? It's like you see in bank vaults though. His office is in there. Or at least it is now they moved it from the second floor. He's been paranoid. There's been talk."

"Talk about how somebody got to him." I nodded. I put my face in his. "Somebody did. I'm going to do it again."

"It was you. It was you at the Honey Bee Inn." His brown eyes went wide.

"Maybe. Tell me about the mansion."

"It's built with choke points in mind. And places we're supposed to go to to lay down fire if there's an assault. It's all built around this central courtyard, too. It has mines in the walls, explosives at every corridor. They can be remotely activated by the Don. The whole place is booby-trapped. It’s supposed to be huntsman proof.”

“Nothing is actually huntsman proof."

He shrugged but the fact he was panting hard ruined the illusion of calm. "Couldn't say."

"Talk to me about the patrols you were on.”

“They’re fairly strict about it. Somebody will have noticed I’m gone, even. Every hour on the hour and through the center courtyard. Around the building, too.”

“How many?”

“A hundred of us at a given time, maybe."

A hundred could be a problem. Especially if they had proper choke points and the right hardware. Hard light weapons or magnetically accelerated rifles were huntsman level. There were also electric weapons which I was sure could find Neo, invisible or not. I'd seen Neptune use one. An explosion could also take me down. Limit was good but I wasn't invincible.

"Aura?"

"Some of us have it, some of us don't. The Don hasn't been in a position to be picky about his men. Not with his empire crumbling under pressure to the Malachites."

I leaned back and folded my arms. I exchanged looks with Neo. She flickered in and out of the visible spectrum and warbled a hand.

"Might be too many to just walk in to. Plus the explosives. They gonna be a problem for you?"

She waved her hand again.

"Samesies," I grunted.

I had him walk me through the layout of the place in enough detail that I was able to draw a map of the first and second floor. The panic office was on the bottom floor. A big, heavy thing like that couldn't be above ground.

Neo gave me a pleading look and I nodded. She walked behind Nickel and she bent down like she was going to untie him. Giving him one last shred of hope before she snapped up and slit his throat. I watched her take extreme pleasure in doing it.

She shuddered with the living corpse as his lifeblood drained soundlessly onto the floor. She looked ecstatic in the company of death. A low narrow smile on her lips.

It was clear to me. I just needed to give her lots of targets. It seemed like it had been a long time since she was able to indulge in such things. Heists. Murder. All of it. Money must trickle. The blood must flow.

Most importantly I needed to keep her focused on Cinder rather than Ruby. I think the message was starting to sink in but she could relapse. Besides, I wanted Cinder to die and another body wouldn't hurt.

I just needed to make sure she didn't run out of her little pleasures and it seemed to me like I'd have a loyal ally. Underneath it all it seemed like she was just lonely and scared. Especially without her boss. I think there was a part of her that liked taking orders.

And weren't we all like all that? I was like that without Ruby for one. I wasn't sure she would approve of this but she probably didn't approve of me murdering our friends either so there was that.

Neo didn't seem so bad. A bit of a sadist but hey, me too. There was a part of me that took sick pleasure in bringing ruin to my enemies. There was a sideways joy in delivering a boot to their faces.  

And my friends… if I ever saw them again they'd have to understand. I did what I had to to find out about Merlot… this… my father. I had so many memories. Like visiting Shion. We're they all fake? I had to learn more about myself.  If I had to shake hands with a few demons to make it happen then big fucking whoop.

Neo looked at the blood on her stiletto and wiped it off on the Nickel's clothes.

I could work with this. I could live with this. I just needed to throw away my pride.

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-WG

Plans... Part 3

Bellum ran from the scene of the crime. His legs pumping hard on the asphalt beneath him. He was running as far as he could so he could dump what he got into a little storage space that he could access with his porter. That way if he got captured, these assholes were screwed either way.

He cut through a corner and into an alleyway. He panted as he leaned up against the wall and peeked the corner, checking to see if he was in the clear. He was, for now. They would be on his trail now, or eventually. So he took the time he had and he used his porter to throw in what he got into the storage space. He wasn’t sure what he had gotten, but it would all be valuable in some way.

With that out of the way, he took out the map of the city and looked over his targets. The bank was down, so that left two other places.

City hall and the mayors penthouse in his office. That was where his grenades came up for.

With that set in mind, he started to climb up again to get his bearings. He had to climb on top of a tower and he looked around until he saw city hall. A building like that was always something noticeable and a clear landmark for obvious reasons. Though there it would be a bigger issue. Same with the mayors penthouse.

It would be more populated, but that was why he was going to start a scene with the police. Its what the stunners were for. It would minimize people getting hurt at least. Bellum grinned as he made his way there, roof by roof until he was forced to the ground.

He could hear from miles away the din of screaming people hollering their chants for answers.

“Freedom is dearest not this madness, Minister speaks or walks his last.” Was the chant he heard at least from where he was. It was starting to be just background noise. He tried to blend in with the crowd, but even then he stood out like a sore thumb. He tried to not let that dwell on him.

He could see signs that held the name of the minister Frusciante, hastily written and then crossed out with a red marker for an emphasis of their thoughts of the cruelty this guy had done.

Bellum hadn’t been a fan of Aurellio, but even then he hadn’t deserved the pain of being put in a hellhole where he would slowly die from dehydration and weakness. It had been horrible when he had heard it, and he had been kind of upset knowing they hadn’t taken him with them. He would have flourished in that place. He could have gone in and out, easy peasy and knocked down the wall in the meantime.

But that was then, he had forgiven the team for their decision. It had been their part to play. This was his.

He looked out at the line of policemen. They looked scared at the massive crowd, and they were doing their best to reinforce each other with riot shields and other gear. They looked like they weren’t going to be able to hold out for long, no matter how they’d try. But he saw water types at the back, ready to douse people with hydro pump and probably scald too. There was a especially big beastie, a mean looking Swampert that looked at the people around the police like you’d look at an annoying gnat. Bellum immediately targeted that one as a high risk target.

He got one of his stunners ready, it would do double the effect on water types, and he screamed with a tinny; “GET THE FUCK DOWN!” And thanks to being a very loud person, and speakers, he was heard, and people screamed and parted as he chucked the grenade at the swamperts feet, who looked at the grenade stupidly before realizing what it was. It was too late, the Pokemon, and its buddy, a Pollywhirl, where shocked into unconsciousness.

That was really all it took and something finally broke and both sides lost it.

Bellum charged forward with the rioting citizens and he barreled through like it was nothing. Throwing a poor magneton as it tried to stun the crowd, but it failed as Bellum barreled through its shield wearing buddy, a Croagunk that had a poisoned jab ready to punch through, and he threw them both aside like a child throwing toys.

He gave another officer a punch through the faceplate of its helmet. The plastic shattering as he punched through and crushing and breaking the poor guys nose.

Bellum gave a dragonian roar as he and the others barreled through and all hell broke loose. With his job as the battering ram done, he made his way inside. Punching security guards and whoever else got in his way. He didn’t kill anyone, but they would wake up with a headache and a broken bone or two. He was doing this for a reason. He didn’t want anyone to die. So he was making a scene, making the important people have enough time to get out.

When he got to the rather fancy office, which looked like it had been cleared out in a hurry, he lobbed a banger inside, and closed the doors and then ran like his life depended on it. He ran fast and hard, and when the explosion rang out, he swore he could hear the heavy door bounce off the walls behind him. He used that time to jump out a window, shattering the glass as he made nothing but utter pandemonium.

Grabbing onto the nearest building, he growled as he dug his claws through, scraping the concrete in markings that ran down where he had slid.

Giving another growl, he started to climb up, because he had another target.

Suffice to say, when he got his bearings and saw where the Mayor was supposed to be usually, it was easier to get over there and lob the banger from the next building over. The explosion was rather fantastic and he loved it.

“SUCK ON IT YOU SNIVELING BITCH FACED FUCKTARD! ANARCHY! WHOO!” Bellum called out. Enjoying himself way, way too much as he embraced the full on punk in the most stupid, yet for him, fun way.

With the sound of a few Magnezone on the way, who were clearly trying to desperately keep things in check, Bellum made himself scarce.

He reflected over what he did. He could have done it more suave, with more grace and whatnot. Used his porter to teleport in, leave a present and boom! But there was no fun in it, and it didn’t leave as good of a message.

The message Bellum left? It was clear. That Frusciante was being hunted, and he was supposed to be aware of it. That Bellum was on his heels, just one little act of anarchy at a time. And if or when he got his claws on him. He would make him suffer so much.

And Bellum hoped he could. Because he was intending to break a lot of bones. To mush.

If he would walk, he’d be rolled out of a wheelchair. That was how angry Bellum was.

ZoAce talking about devotion (to Luffy, whitebeard etc). If you feel like it, of course

So I realize this doesn't feel the brief at all. I'm really sorry guys, I just got to spend five days in hospital (yay genetics!) And so the plan is for there to be a second part follow up soon.

Also, not gonna lie, I cut a very much R rated scene where Zoro and Ace have sex while Law watches because I realized that wasn't even CLOSE to the request. I'm sorry for this new OT3 I'm just way too in to. However, keep your eyes peeled for part two: the actual conversation, rated g for everyone.

I Couldn't Lose Him, Part One

"You could come with me, you know?"

You ever say something stupid, and before the words are even out of your mouth you know how stupid it is, but you end up saying it all the same?

Ace is always saying those kind of things. Especially since the failed execution when he almost died without saying some of the most important stuff. Now a days, these things would just flare up inside him, and he either had to spit them out or they would burn his throat all the way down as he swallowed them. Even then they didn't disappear, they just turned into flickering embers, not hot enough to explode outward but too hot to finally die down to nothing. He felt them all the time.

Like all those things he never had a chance to say to his captain.

But this... This was really stupid, because Ace knew what the answer would be before he even says anything.

Zoro rolls over in bed and smiles at him. Well, not exactly a smile smile. But a nice enough look. It said that he knows that Ace already knows his answer.

You could come with me. Shit. It really had been a stupid thing to say.

Zoro isn't going to leave his crew, his captain. Not until Luffy reaches the end of the Grand Line and can declare himself pirate king. Maybe not even after that. No, Zoro is a believer. He's steadfast, he's resolved, he's determined, he's loyal and committed and unfaltering in his trust and faith he places in Ace's crybaby little brother. He's unwavering in his support no matter how crazy the plan, because he has no doubt Luffy will carry through on his word.

Zoro is above all else devoted.

Ace had spotted it almost immediately in Alabaster. When Luffy said that he had to face this fight alone. Nami and Usopp were both practical - in a way Luffy needs to balance him out - and immediately pointed out that he in no way had to do it himself, they had numbers on their side, why not use that advantage? Sanji approached it a little more subtly, which Ace thinks is very much his style but will never work on Luffy. "They might be expecting us, they'll probably try to thin the herd to just Luffy regardless. Of course, if just Luffy goes than he'll have to face down whatever security forces they have in place by himself."

Chopper just wants to be helpful. "I know I'm not much of a fighter, but I'll happily guard Luffy against whoever they send after him!"

Zoro picks up the panting, overheated reindeer. He looks at Luffy, studying him for a mere second before nodding. A dangerous, toothy grin pulls at his lips. "Good. I wanted a second chance at that swordsman," Zoro says, as if he had planned to go off and fight the other kenshi regardless of what Luffy was planning on. As though if Luffy had said, "Zoro, come with me," Zoro wouldn't immediately forget about the other swordsman and follow Luffy anywhere he went.

Ace had noticed more than that, of course. Come on, the kid was cute. With spikey green hair and skin that looked like golden sand soaking in the heat of the sun. With his smile that tried to be hard and yet there was still so much shine to it, a sort of untainted joy that he couldn't hold back.

So, yeah, Ace had noticed, but he is also noticed all that loyalty, all that faith; it was all for Luffy. Poor kid. He didn't know that while Luffy loves his crew and adores his friends, his real loves will always be adventure and freedom and following his dreams.

Still, Ace isn't about to get between his brother and his first mate. Zoro could never compete with the promise of endless freedom, Luffy's general love of adventure, but what was the point of saying anything? He could already sense the resolve radiating off the swordsman. He'd already swore an oath to his captain, and it seemed clear to Ace his conviction was something deeper than a first mate's to their superior officer. Nothing Ace could have said would have changed that.

Besides, back then, he had his own mission to accomplish. Something entrusted to him by his own captain, and that was far more important than hopelessly flirting with some kid.

Of course, Zoro's not really a kid anymore.

-♠️-

When they met again in the new world, a whole lot had changed. Ace is captainless, crewless, mission less, sailing out on his own unsure where he's headed or what he is searching for. He stops by an island for a few days, partly to restock and partly because, well, it's not like he has anywhere else to be.

The ship docked nearby isn't at all familiar to him, but the loud shouting about meat and exploring and the new world certainly are.

Luffy hasn't changed a bit, Ace thinks with a light chuckle as he casually sneaks onboard this huge new ship to surprise his little brother.

Then there is Zoro.

As in, no, there - suddenly and far more sneakily than Ace remembers any of this crew being - is Zoro. He has Ace backed against a wall, sword at the other man's throat and a mean expression.

Ace finds himself having trouble swallowing, and it's not because of the sword.

"Oh," Zoro cocks his head and gives Ace a crooked smile, as though Ace can't hear that note of disappointment in his voice as lowers his weapon. So Zoro hasn't entirely changed. "Luf-Mmph!"

Ace gives Zoro a mischievous smile, holding a finger to his lips to signal he needs the swordsman's silence. He leaves his hand over Zoro's mouth as the strawhat vice captain arches an eyebrow, clearly wondering what the hell the older pirate thinks he's doing.

"Shh." Ace leans in to whisper into the swordsman's ear, pressing up against him maybe a little more than strictly necessary. Well, that's not entirly true. It's very much necessary in order to feel all those gorgeous new muscles. And Ace is really enjoying this new loose-fitting-kimono-practically-falling-off-his-shoulders-if-his-shoulders-weren't-now-as-broad-as-their-new-ship look.

Ace had heard rumours Zoro had spent the last two years training with Dracule Mohawk, and Ace could definitely see the influence, what with his robe hanging open practically to his waist.

"I want to surprise him," Ace whispers, his hand slowly dropping from Zoro's mouth. It takes a slight detour to his shoulder, broad and strong and just was well muscled as the rest of him. Ace can't help but give a firm squeeze, delighting at the play of strength he can feel flex in response.

Zoro crosses his arms over his chest and shakes his head, but Ace can see the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He still can't hide it completely. "It doesn't matter of you surprise him or not, he's going to be excited either way," Zoro points out which is fair, but Ace's way is more fun. "Don't expect me to jump in after you if he knocks you off the ship."

Ace has to stifle his laugh. Luffy's definitely gotten stronger, Ace saw that for himself at Marinefird. Still, he's not about to be knocked out by his baby brother. Like that could happen.

-♠️-

Zoro does jump in after him.

Of course he does. His other option is to let his captain's idiot brother drown.

Luffy must have knocked him pretty far, too, because by the time Zoro breaks back up to the surface, Ace is nearly unconscious, with Zoro's grasp on his hands and the arm pushing him up the other man's (also very finely muscled) back being just about the only thing keeping Ace on his back.

"ZORO!" Luffy yells from the side of the ship even though he could just stretch his neck out to them. Ace wonders if the crew understands the sort of people that could be tracking them through the Grand Line. Ace hadn't had the slightest clue either the first time he's arrived, but then again, despite being a super rookie himself Ace hasn't caused nearly as much trouble for the world government not too mention countless others by the time he reached the second half.

Luffy could probably stand to learn to announce his entrance a little less loudly.

"TELL ACE I'M SORRY!" Luffy continues to shout, in case someone at the port hadn't already worked out who they were.

Ace couldn't help but notice there is no question that Zoro had recovered Ace just fine. Luffy seemed to instinctually know that Zoro wouldn't fail him.

Ace use to have that.

Of course, what Zoro actually said was, "I did warn you."

"Yeah," Ace draws, ends up sputtering up a bunch of water still in his lungs. "But you also said you wouldn't jump in after me, yet here you are."

"Don't make me drop you."

"You wouldn't do that." Zoro was kicking them back to the boat, paddling with one arm, with Ace draped over his back. Ace vaguely remembers what it had been like to get in the water and not immediately feel drained, and he's pretty sure that this still isn't fun or easy. Especially with all this wet clothes weighing him down.

"Wh-what are you doing?" It's the most Zoro has reminded him of the same kid back in Alabaster, and Ace snickers at the slight stutter in his voice.

"Helping you out if this wet kimono," Ace purrs against Zoro's ear, which gets him swatted at like a particularly annoying fly before Zoro quickly snakes his hand back under Ace's leg, sure not to drop him. Ace doesn't let himself get distracted from distracting Zoro. He dips his hands bellow the sash, fingers sprawled out over the taunt muscles of Zoro's lower stomach. "Don't you think it's be easier t-"

Zoro does the last leg of the swim underwater, where Ace can barely stay conscious, much less mess around with the young vice captain.

-♠️-

Ace hits the deck with a wet thud.

"Why were you under water so long, idiot marimo? He could have drowned!"

"It got us here faster, didn't it erocook?"

"Back up, let me see! .... It's okay, he still has a pulse."

There's a great sigh of relief.

Ace pops open one eye, staring directly up at Zoro. "Does that mean you won't be giving me the kiss of life?"

"Ace!" Next thing Ace knows, he's losing all his air gain, this time due to the rubber ball that's been thrown directly into his stomach aka his little brother.

Luffy squeezes him so tight, Ace might actually pass out, or would have if he weren't practically made of fire. Instead he just laughs, knocking that ridiculous hat off his head just to ruffle up his hair before setting it back. "I didn't know it was you!"

"That's because the idiot wanted to sneak up on you," Zoro informs Luffy, but he's expression is less severe than his words. If anything he looks down at the two brothers with fondness.

Luffy laughs at this, pulling his cheeks wide to stick his tongue out at Ace. "Not anymore! Rayleigh showed me how to never get snuck up on - Owe!"

Luffy rubbed his head after Nani's hand connected with his skull in a hard smack. "Then what was with those pirates the other night!?" She asks, clearly still upset about some event Ace hadn't witnessed.

"That was marimo's fault. He was on watch. He should have told us!"

"I took care of it."

"They almost blasted a whole in the side of The Sunny!"

"Yeah, Zoro bro, you could have been a little more careful."

"The Sunny is fine, and I took care of it."

"Yeah, Nami, Zoro took care of us. That's why Zoro makes the best watch!"

For as much as the crew looks to have changed, it's good to see they're not so different.

Ace just starts laughing, enjoying the nostalgia of their little argument, and that seems to get everyone's attention off whatever happened a few nights ago and back on their more recent visitor.

The Straw hats stopped their argument, turning to stare at Ace like he is the crazy one on the ship.

Their last argument seemingly forgotten, Sanji lights up another cigarette. "What are you doing way out here on the Grand Line by yourself, anyway?"

"Oh, you know, just trying to get the old crew back together," Ace lies casually. He'd met his old crew, but without whiteboard there it all felt so..

Empty.

stygian dagger

a sneak peek Like clamouring thunder intimidating a planet during a hot summer day, a small group of highly trained Tavali, the renowned pirates and travellers of the Universe, quickly dissolved themselves in the crowd as if each individual had always belonged to the scene. Bursting at the seams, the makeshift arena placated the savage desires of the rowdy public through violent, gruesome fighting. Their bellows demanded blood and guts from the unwilling practitioners of cage fighting, sold to this business for the purpose of serving the sick pleasures of the rich. Filling the pockets of greedy masters with abusive hands. Though illegal, the fights were wildly known throughout the Nine Worlds, beckoning hefty wallets with the promise of a night of indulgence. The three Tavali, fearless and unrelenting and heavily armed, approached the round stage, a fenced cage that had been electrified to discourage any contestant from trying an escape. Ushara, Davel and Trajen slowly descended the rows of stairs with a single purpose in mind. Rescuing Jullien eton Anatole. The bastard of the Ichidian Universe. “How do you want to do this?” Davel, Ushara’s older brother turned to her. Ushara Altaan, Vice Admiral for the Gorturnum nation (one of the four nations of Tavali) and the bastard’s best friend, thirsted for vengeance the moment she learned of Jules captivity. But despite the spiralling emotions, she led the rescue operation with military expertise. The Fyreblood in her was built for war, after all. Her breed of Andarions possessed the talent of pyrokinetics with their fiery breath that put them at great advantage in battle. “We have to find where they’re keeping the fighters. We grab Jules and get the hell out of here before I burn this shithole to the ground and cause Trajen here even more trouble.” The glance she threw at her boss and friend catapulted them both to a few months prior when she flew without proper papers and authorisation into Steradore to rescue her son and executed ruthlessly her son’s kidnappers. That was also when Jules crashed into her life. “Let’s start by looking for cells underground. I bet my money that’s where we will find him.” Trajen added quickly, the air of ancient wisdom surrounding him like royal robes as his eyes held a faraway look. Returning to the task at hand, the group proceeded through the darkened corridors, merging into the shadows like fading mist. Away from the main event and prying eyes, the three of them advanced into the house of horrors’ lowest pits where its security relied mostly on a few guards, now lying unmoving after quickly being neutralised, and the highest technology one could acquire in the black market. The collective tension thickened the atmosphere with Trajen’s warning. “I don’t know how long I can keep the interfering with the system’s security.” Visibly concerned for her boss, Ushara, who marched at front, turned back and gave him a look that silently asked him if he was alright. Though his expression had now been contorted into one of extreme suffering, Trajen nodded with a dismissive shrug. “Let’s keep looking.” Expecting the alarms to go off any second, inevitable frustration was slowly mounting between them as their options to find him grew scarce with the nearing of the end of the row of cells. “Where is he? Titana ræl. He has to be here somewhere.” Trajen’s curse surprised the others. Their Admiral was nothing but an infinite well of wise ponderation and heedful shrewdness. But this restless, almost sloppy version of him gave the others a marginal idea of the potency of the bond he shared with Jules. And where his loyalties lied. His purpose was clear. Despite Trajen’s many efforts to remain isolated from those under his protection, Jullien eton Anatole quickly wormed his way into their secluded leader’s heart with his wits and scars. In him, he found a brother, a kindred spirit. Both, a product of the brutality of their pasts. Drenched in darkness, Ushara refused to let old fears roar back to life as she searched each cell thoroughly. Those demons poked their incessant torment on her mind but she wouldn’t give way. No way in Tophet. “Jules! Jules! Dammit, dark heart. Where are you?” Her desperate bellow echoed through the hall. “Ah, shit.” Followed by a string of mouthful expletives, Davel run both hands through his tousled hair in evident denial. “What have they done to you, drey?” Terrified by her brother’s words alone, Ushara moved slowly toward Davel. Suddenly her legs weighed a ton, and all her instincts screamed at her. She wasn’t ready for what she was about to see. Her gasp of horror came without warning. Lying on the filthy floor of the smallest cubicle of that hellhole, he was in fetal position, back curved and head bowed to make himself smaller. His eyes resolutely shut, Jullien remained eerily motionless. Almost as if… “Jules..?” Low and soothing, her voice wrapped itself around him. “Please.” She begged. No reaction still. Lost to her panic and petrified by the shock of her best friend’s predicament, Ushara’s angry tears fell like an unexpected hurricane. This entire nightmare began when one of her cousins and his crew sold him as punishment for something he played no role at. Hate is an ugly creature whose talons infect the soul upon their impaling. And there is no recognition between right or wrong. There is just the ugly need for vengeance, the hunt for a twisted form of justice that’s justifiable through past suffering and grievances. Davel’s strained grunts catapulted her back into reality. For the time being and Jules’ sake, she vowed to abandon her thirst for retribution against those who sought to harm her best friend. Both her brother and Trajen joined their efforts to break him out. Between mighty brawn and refined brain, the electrified door of his dungeon held no chance against them. At the first opportunity, Ushara crawled toward the entrance on hands and knees. She outstretched her hand toward Jules. “Jules?” She tried once again. Only then did he shift his position, daring a tentative look at her as if afraid she might be only a mirage. “It’s me. Shara.” Her body ached from the awkward angle of it. “Come on, let’s go home.” When a single tear rolled down his face, her entire world shattered along with her heart. The agony and misery reflected upon those beautifully hybrid eyes, a mix of human and Andarion, clutched her insides before twisting them until she felt what she could describe as a poor replica of the same pain. Yet bravely, he offered her his bloodied fingers, silently accepting her strength to escape this house of horrors. As he dragged himself along the ground, Ushara confirmed all her fears. After the years of unthinkable abuse Jullien had fallen victim to, she feared he would resort to shutting everybody out to deal with yet another trial in his lonesome road of redemption, one he endured after she had promised him he was safe with the Tavali. She failed him. And she hated herself for that failure. Stoically, his face an unreadable mask of indifference, he stood awkwardly as Ushara embraced him in relief despite her reservations regarding his mental stability. “We better get going, guys.” Davel interrupted their reencounter with good motive. It wouldn’t be long until the alarms went off. “I sense trouble incoming, too.” Trajen added with a distant look. His impressive powers at work. As if on cue, the blaring sound of sirens threatened to awaken even the dead. “Let’s get out of here!” Ushara’s hand sought Jules’, tugging him behind her as the others hurried before them. Without uttering a word still, he followed after her. They were halfway down the hall when he broke contact with her fingers, turning toward a group of inmates, all female, as his fingers curled ferociously around the metal bars of the cell. His knuckles white, Jules tugged at the bars with a frightening growl. Eyes now full of untamed fury, he kept yanking and yanking. Unable to understand the source of Jullien’s outrage, Ushara spared a glance at her brother and Trajen before joining her best friend. He was clearly set on opening this specific cell. Mildly confused, she helped him by unleashing her fiery breath over the unyielding lock. It took some work as the ancient metal resisted more than first predicted but once it fell apart, he was quick to get pull the door open and venture into the room’s darkness. Tempted to go after him, she bit her lip. She shouldn’t. Right? Jules knew what he was doing. He had to. Right..? Praying for her friend’s mindfulness, she raked her fingers through her white hair while readying herself for the swarm of hostiles. “Shit.” Unholstering both blasters, Ushara aimed them ahead, patiently waiting to feed her need for violence. To sate her hunger to spill enemy blood. Surely enough, the first party showed up next. An eerie smile descended upon her lips. “Come get some, bitches.” She murmured dangerously, mostly to herself. Her blood singing in delirium for a chance of revenge. It was then Jules emerged from the shadows of the dungeon with a female stranger leaning heavily against him. Vulnerability surrounded this woman, obviously injured during her captivity. She was a vision, absolutely breathtaking. And totally human, it seemed. Golden skinned and green eyed, she beckoned every gaze in the room like a siren singing to her sailors. Finally, all hell broke loose. Ushara’s first two shots came as warning. After that, she was all business, no play. She went ahead of Jules and his companion, assuming her offensive stance before engaging in further confrontation. With envying expertise, she blocked every attack while ensuring their inevitable escape from this shithole by counter attacking tirelessly. She was an animal in the game of warfare. When every opponent lied lifelessly on the ground, Ushara released a breath of relief before holstering her blasters again. The barrels still singed her flesh if she were to touch them directly. Her babies were well used today. Collecting their breaths, the five of them exited the house of horrors without so much as a backward glance. Only Jullien hesitated briefly to bend his upper body forward so he could pick the woman up and carry her in his arms, regardless of her protests that claimed she could walk on her own. Once safely inside her ship, Ushara urged Davel to initiate the flight commands to get them all back home and far, far away from there. Trajen, the silent watcher, joined her while the both of them observed from afar the exchange between Jullien and the woman he refused to leave behind. “Is she trustworthy?” She whispered her concerns to her boss, hoping he could give her some sort of endorsement. Instead, he shrugged. “Time will tell.” Helpful. She grumbled quietly on her way to the pair. Despite Jules current inability to interact with the world outside of his well of misery, he still managed to put the human’s needs before his. A feat she probably can’t even begin to appreciate but Ushara’s version of a very malicious green monster was quickly suffocated by her immediate thought to not throw judgements before gathering proper insight. “Hi there. I’m Ushara.” The female warrior extended her hand toward the other female before pointing at Trajen. “That’s Trajen, and the mountain of a man at the front of the helm is my brother, Davel.” She finished with a sincere smile. “I—I’m Bonnie. Bonnie Bennett.” She cleared her throat to mitigate the hoarseness in her voice. “It’s nice to meet you all.” As she took Ushara’s hand in hers, she couldn’t help but noticing Jullien’s retreating form as he sought solitude to quiet his roaring demons.

Finale 1 - Edited Roll20 Log

Outside the walls of Arenias’ fortress was a celebration. Banners of all colours fluttered in the wind as Beathyn’s cannons continued their relentless shelling. All of the Emberglades were represented. Wintergale volunteers and Men of the Blackbanner led by Zarannis. Militia from the Heartlands and Shalemarch under Judereth. Even Westheath prisoners-turned-soldiers, promised amnesty, aiming to fight twice as hard to prove their loyalty to Relriah who had stepped forward to lead them. They knew of her, most of them growing up in Westheath together.

It wasn’t difficult to convince them to follow The Daughter of Illithia who was Arenias’ last remaining heir. After being explained the state of things by Relriah, they were more than happy to fight for someone who was just as ruthless- but not at their expense. They promised to deliver her father’s head as a coronation present for the true ruler of Westheath.

But despite the celebratory mood, there was still a dread that hung low in the air. Victory was close at hand, but it made the idea of dying -now- so much worse. A pointless last stand by Arenias. The last gesture by a Lordling that was already dead. The same outcome would be reached if he just surrendered- only with less bloodshed on both sides. But Stenden had been clear.

A prolonged siege to starve them out and forcing a surrender was not an acceptable option. They needed to snuff Lord Illithia and his loyalists out once and for all. The war had gone on long enough, and with the help of the heroes who had come to aid him, they were going to end this- Here. Now.

[Event Start]

Thanidiel Highdawn:"How much does the Lordling wish for us to keep intact?"

Esheyn:"An important thing to consider.”

Ethalarian:"I would imagine as much as possible, Highdawn."

Thanidiel:"I'm just saying. There's a lot of tinder here and nothing runs the untrained out of a fortress faster..."

Ethalarian:"I don't think they've much interest in ruling a load of torched tinder, either."

Lirelle:"I believe all of their militia have deserted them. Only those fanatically loyal are left."

Thanidiel:"I'll show them fanatical loyalty underneath my mare's hooves."

Lirelle looks up to the defenders on the walls. "I'm sure some of them are already regretting it."

Ethalarian frowns. Destroying his fellow countrymen to the man doesn't appear to sit well with him.

Thanidiel:"Highdawn will run down the riflemen ahead. Will your horsemen be handling the infantry?"

Ethalarian:"You can leave it to me."

Isilos pointed at the guards infront of Thanideil's troops. "Soften them up so the others can pass through."

Thanidiel:"Mm, fuck that. Redirecting - this city is so piss-narrow. I may split the heavy cavalry for now."

[Combat Starts.]

After the strategy concludes, the siege begins in earnest under the blasts of Beathyn’s cannon fire. The fighting is intense as the Coalition engages Arenias’ loyalists street by street, and block by block. Smashing through barricades and navigating roadblocks, the battle soon becomes a slaughter for the hopeless defenders. Nevertheless the fanatical opposing force put up a fierce defence.

The casualness with which the Crows move is at odds with the militia scattered around them. A flick of Lirelle's hand is enough to propel them forwards, horses trotting forward as their riders let loose. Their mage followed cautiously behind, her magic sending chunks of masonry flying from beneath the feet of the defenders. Lirelle herself hung back for now, save for a single bolt of black that washed over the crossbowmen, leaving nothing but corpses in its wake.

Ethalarian secures his helmet in place and spurs his charger forward without a word. As he races through the streets, he gives his orders with hand signals, dirt and loose stone flying through the air at the thunderous passing of his cavalry.

Esheyn and her troops take to the walls, climbing up the ladders quickly to dispatch their foes.

Vaelrin was here. And was here the entire time for whatever happened over the last few weeks at this particular location at this particular time when things were surely at a particularly violent era. Nevertheless, Vaelrin's best interest was to pursue and protect those who were with him in battle and with a bellowing call, he and bowmen took aim to the Arbalesters on the top of the wall.

[Meanwhile at the inner walls of the north]

Vissehn 's troops had been on the move long before the main army and they had carved their corner-- one man at a time, one night at a time. It took time to break a perimeter; more time to dig in. Lots of cardgames played silently-- lots of sleepless nights. Now, however, it paid off; their commander's eccentric strategy bringing them to the back of the field, where defenses pointed quite the other way. Springing up, they levelled their rifles at the bombardment canon, trying to make quick work of things on their side of the battle. All the while, their young and reckless commander sang a jaunty tune.

Vissehn Sings

"Lay them out, oh bullet born Reap all they have sown Arenias of the blatant scorn will find his castle blown!"

And so they let loose, all of their shots, in a blaze of gunsmoke and shells.

Vissehn takes a moment to fire into the air, letting enemy and ally alike know that a Hawk has entered the fray.

[Back to the Main Assault]

Isilos channeled healing light towards Esheyn while commanding his Magisters to puch back the entrentched. "Clear the path, we need to make it to the other side. I will focus on keeping our ranks alive."

Thanidiel yells to her compatriots. "Highdawn will be blocking the advance of the lancers."

Ethalarian:"Good luck."

Mara Blazingdawn:"Soldiers! Fan out! We will not be left out of this fight!"

A runner comes in from their eastern flank, calling for reinforcements. The siege had gone well on the Eastern Wall. -Too Well- so much so that the militia-men had over extended and were now cut off.

Ethalarian immediately wheels his cavalry around, waving for him to follow. "My cavalry will ride to relieve the militia! We'll get there fastest."

The battle continues as Ethalarian rides down the streets leading eastwards and comes to the militia’s aide on the right flank.

Oosaarn and the arbalesters charged through the broken wall. Sprinting past broken buildings and rubble until they were well within the city. He orders his troops to attack the infantry on his left while both arbalesters attacks those straight ahead.

Esheyn continues their assault atop the wall, but she instructs her troops to descend and move to join the others.

Vaelrin bellows forth a command ordering his troop to follow him as he charges off on his steed towards the middle of the wall where the hole allowed entryway. With most of the ranged disposed of, his focus now turned towards something else. Without so much as a flinch, Vaelrin's presence was now alongside Lirelle as a command ushered forth a wave of arrows towards the nearest enemy.

Mara Blazingdawn raises her sword to order her forces forward. "Advance through the breech! We need to get into position to engage their infantry! Double time!"

Rallying her troops to her Mara Blazingdawn bellows at the top of her lungs as they enter the fray. "Drive these cavalry back! We need to clear the way!"

[Meanwhile, on the right flank]

Ethalarian 's cavalry arrives at the flank and he immediately begins to take stock of the situation. "Forward!" he bellows to his militiamen. "Buy the levies some breathing room!"

Ethalarian spurs his lancers forward, aiming to relieve the beleaguered levies. Light radiates from the lancers behind him and begins to knit closed their wounds. "You!" he shouts, directing his lance at some poor unfortunate soul. "What the hell happened here?"

The sargeant responds. They had broken through and made full use of it. Only to discover later that it was because they were let in -intentionally-. This whole eastern flank was a trap.

[Meanwhile, in the North, at the Inner Walls]

Vissehn shouts as the hit lands, but it doesn't seem to do enough. He looks to his militia men. "C'mon, bring 'em down!" They reload, and fire once more-- into the arablesters this time.

Vissehn:"Ilithia went to war

Far beyond their reach

Here we bay at their door

To hammer down a breach!"

Vissehn:"If we die we die glorious, lads! Let 'em remember we sang to our demise!"

[Back to the Main Assault]

Lirelle continues walking forward, the Crows behind her picking off targets as they went. As she passes Vaelrin again, she turns to look at him briefly. saying not a word as was promised. She stops behind Thanidiel's horsemen and the shadows curl around her, dissipating to reform in an instant to engulf the guards and rifles.

Thanidiel is unphased as the dark magicks swirl around them - those of the Emberheart militia reacting on the contrary until settled under the standard of Tyr's Hand again.

Isilos wiped the blood from his scythe and looked to the other streets. He didn't like being delayed when there was an objective.

Oosaarn and those arbalest mercenaries turned the nearest corner and ran headlong into the group of house guards down the ruined street. [All basic attack on House Guards]

Esheyn grits her teeth. She has a LOT of ground to cover if she has any hope of catching up with her comrades. But her troops are in a better position to assist, and so she calls to them, "TO ISILOS!" before jumping down to rush toward the fray.

Mara Blazingdawn finishes cleaning her blade from the recent skirmish. "Press forward! We have the advantage!" Ordering her knights to move into the ruins, the lesser guardsmen engage the House Guards while Mara's personal guard attack the Infantry further into the city.

[Meanwhile, on the right flank]

The trap continued to circle in on the remaining militia, also trapping Ethalarian.

Ethalarian squares his jaw as the severity of the situation begins to dawn on him. Cut off. Surrounded. "Hartwood! Duskarrow!" He shouts as loud as he can, hoping they can hear him over the din of the battle. "Fall back! Get the militia out of here, warn Highdawn and the others!" The broad-shouldered knight at the head of one of the militia formation falters. "But-" Ethalarian waves, cutting him off. "No argument, Sergeant! I'll delay them as long as I can!"

Takes one look at the situation, then back at the knight who had come to their rescue. "What about you?" He asks.

Ethalarian shakes his head. "You heard me. The last thing I need is a bunch of fucking farmers getting in my way."

Krissen Dawnhollow who had believed she had their lines of retreat cut off frowns. "Noble of you. But futile. Just like my Lord's stupid last stand. Are you here to make one of your own?"

Ethalarian wheels his cavalry about, facing now the one that had begun to approach him. "Nothing quite so elegant as that." He shrugs his shoulders. "Just no other options."

Krissen Dawnhollow shrugs. "Such is life, is it not?" She makes a wry laugh, for she knew that her fate would be similar. Shortly.

Ethalarian cracks a wry grin, leaning forward across the horn of his saddle. "Not that it's going to matter here in a few minutes," he says with a wry laugh, "but I don't suppose you have a name?"

Krissen Dawnhollow:"Krissen Dawnhollow," she says.

Krissen Dawnhollow raises her hand for her troops to attack. Whatever futile victory she had won on this side of the fortress was going to be pointless soon enough. As was the Knight's last stand. "Let's finish this."

Ethalarian discards his lance and draws Faithbreaker from its scabbard. The crimson blade flickers to life as it had so many times before and one of the knights behind him sounds a blast of his horn. "Let us indeed." Hooves drive into cobblestone with a thunderous sound as he spurs his charger into action, followed by what remains of his retinue.

[And on the Inner Walls North of the Main Assault]

Vissehn and his lads slipped off the battlements, and with a rush ran to the remaining bombardment canon. Vissehn waved them around, and his soldiers attempted to commandeer.

Vissehn cheers and his men, and the remains of his militia, aim for the final bombardment canon on the battlements.

“If we die now, we die with a canon!"

The boy holds tight to his canon, watching the arbalesters fell his men. Until there was none but himself.

Vissehn, alone as his luck seemed to fade, breaks out into song. "When can their glory fade? O the wild charge they made! All the world wondered."

Thanidiel hears his song. "Are you singing to -comfort- yourself!" bellows through the streets.

The Main Assault was now closing in on the Inner Walls but none were in range to support the Hawk

Esheyn and her troops break into a run toward those battling up ahead. [All Sprint]

“Center formation! Fall back and reform! Rear formation! Attack!” Mara Blazingdawn the Dawnspire Knights engage the Houseguard bringing steel and courage to purpose.

Just as the arbalesters fire at Vissehn, the forces from the Eastern Flank arrive to assist

Ethalarian 's cavalry appear from the right flank, tattered and flagging but unbroken. A tree of a man leads the front most unit of cavalry, recognizable to most as Knight-Sergeant Hartwood. "Run them down!" he cries. "We need to end this quickly for the Captain's sake!"

[The Battle Quickly concludes and all forces meet up]

"Commander Highdawn!"

Thanidiel looks at the rider from Ethalarian’s unit. "Dawnstalker does not ride with you. Report."

Hartwood shakes his head. "The right flank was a trap, sir. Last I saw of him he was completely enveloped by the enemy." The big man looks grim. "I saw his banner charge into their leader's formation but- We need to hurry."

Thanidiel does not shout nor rile at the news - accepting it quietly with the phoenix greathelm obscuring her thoughts and features. What there is - almost automatic on the heels of Hartwood's words, is the swishing motion of the Tyr's Hand standard and the beat of the armoured cavalry's hooves as they move shortly from a rippling trot to a full gallop through streets and along walls to the eastern flank.

What she finds when she arrives is a scene of calamity- not a single one of the Lancers that had left under Ethalarian's banner remained standing. She finds him at the center of the formation, badly bloodied but somehow still breathing. At least for the moment. His wounds are many and they are deep. His head turns, eyes unseeing, toward the sound of hoofbeats as Highdawn's formation approaches and he manages to barely lift a hand.

Thanidiel slows enough to swing off of the back of her pale mare, allowing the beast to come to its own stop as her armoured frame lands onto the cobblestone. The motleyed band of horsemen that had followed her all the way from the South, just as Ethalarian had, already bringing themselves to a pause aways from the scene. Sweetness does not soften this moment, for Highdawn is not sweet and has always been all of the weapon that Ethalarian had wished to dehumanise into. Her gauntletted hand lowers to his, enough to curl around, as she delivers the plainfaced observation. "You are dying. My Light would do nothing but spur you to the end before it could uplift you."

Thanidiel then seethes out, angry but restrained, "We should have gone together. Traded places."

Ethalarian sputters a half-choked laugh and gives a shake of his head, bloodied lips twisting into a crooked grin. "S'w-what I always liked about you, Th-Thanidiel. Always a...a laugh." He lifts his chin and tugs sharply, with what little strength he has left, and the buckles clasping his curiass in place give out. "Shut up," he hisses through clenched teeth as his numb fingers fumble for something. "I picked this."

Thanidiel:"The dying or whatever you're fumbling for in there? If you think I like you enough to go into my Great Uncle's lands and hand Nuellen your dogtags..." The ex-Knight picks up on his manner, letting everything else said pass by with flickers of her ears as she drops to her knees. Facilitating the ease of whatever was being given.

Ethalarian finally finds what he's looking for- something kept close to his heart- and weakly takes it into his grip. "Everything." The color begins to fade even more rapidly from his ruddy skin. Unable to lift his arm anymore, he rocks his shoulders in her direction and slaps whatever is in his hand- smeared with his blood- into her chest. "Keep...this...close." Ethalarian winces from the pain. "Foot...footlocker."

Thanidiel examines the bloodsmeared object, using the leather underside of her glove to wipe away and discover its details. The greathelm, as always, obscuring anything animate to her. But whatever it was, the stalks of her ears freeze and pull back - threatened, or alarmed, taken aback? Either way, it all braces and chills through the rest of her frame as she looms over the dying Knight. Hostility replacing affection even still as she grits out a simplistic, "Fuck you," as the ramifications process through her mind. "You're going to make me live for this?" She had wanted this all to be the end; a merit of good work to at least a few peoples before bringing over a century of nightmare to an end.

Thanidiel growls after - the sound reverberating through her chest, and throat, and the layers of padded cloth and metal encasing her. Even still, the deliberate motion is present in the other's dying vision; the press of Elleynah's World to her breastplate.

Ethalarian squeezes Thanidiel's hand weakly and seems to laugh- his body shakes, at least- and that wry smile returns to his face. He wants to say more- to give her a few final words- but he can't summon the energy. All he can do is nod weakly. She knows his meaning. She'll understand. Regardless of whatever difference they may have had, she would do what needed to be done. That was her way. And then, at long last, his grip goes slack in her hands and he stills completely.

[Event End]

🕸 for any character!

hello hello hello here this is, fifty thousand years late! thank u for ur patience ♡♡♡

from this game!

tw: blood, gore, whump/torture, animal death, human death, swearing

—

Sometimes, Commander Tibur Dayehmon of the Cordellan Royal Guard thought about killing his king.

Not seriously, of course. But on long, cold nights like this, when Dayehmon had to leave the warmth of his wife behind in the middle of the night and race halfway across the country to track down his charge, he seriously considered strangling the king. Shoving him off a cliff. Letting him drown in the river Finns.

It would be easy. No one would suspect the king’s lifelong friend and bodyguard to poison his morning tea.

Too bad Dayehmon had morals. 

He was wistfully reminiscing about his wife and the day they were supposed to have in the king’s mountain retreat, when his horse fell, and he fell with it.

The animal let out a high-pitched scream as they tumbled down into a pit that shouldn’t have been there, dug deep into the road. Dayehmon was too securely seated in the saddle; instead of being thrown, he hit the ground with the horse, its weight hitting his leg, and leaving an audible crunch that had Dayehmon crying out in pain.

The horse was louder. It must have snapped one of its own legs in the fall, because it screamed and thrashed, unable to get back to its feet. Dayehmon cursed and yelled, as every heave and twist of its body further crushed his own bones into dust.

He swallowed his own pain - or tried to - and leaned forward as best as he could. His shoulder hurt, too, and his neck, but if the horse kept on like this, it would probably kill him. He ran his free hand along its neck, trying to soothe it, wishing he was in a position to put the poor damn thing out of its misery.

It finally stopped thrashing, at least, but Dayehmon was still trapped; every few moments, the horse let out a cry of pain. He felt much the same way. He fell back against the ground, soft from being recently dug, and sighed.

A bandit’s trap, mostly likely, and he hadn’t noticed anything in the dark. The pit was a good ten feet deep, and wide enough to hold the horse and Dayehmon both. After a long moment, Dayehmon pushed against the horse’s withers, trying to get himself free.

The pain blinded him. He couldn’t stop a sob from clawing out of his throat, as the shattered bones in his trapped leg ground against each other.

He definitely wasn’t going anywhere.

One of his swords was trapped under him, the hilt digging painfully into his side. Dayehmon wriggled around to move it to somewhere more comfortable. He craned his neck, trying to see all the things his pack had thrown loose when they fell, and found a handful of the beacon sticks scattered across the ground.

Just out of reach.

Someone above gave a soft call. “We caught someone!”

Someone. Dayehmon groaned and dropped his head against the dirt again. He slipped his knife into his palm as a head stuck out over the edge of the pit.

“Damn. Worked like you said it would, Orev.”

“Told ya. Did this during the war.”

Eolan accents. Dayehmon clenched his jaw as two more people joined the first, then closed his eyes. The horse, startled, let out a shrill whinny and writhed. Dayehmon bit his tongue until it bled, doing everything he could to stay still, act like he couldn’t feel the horse’s tense, powerful muscles grind against his leg. Whatever was left of it, anyway.

“Musta died during the fall,” someone muttered. There was the sound of shifting dirt and footsteps; the Eolans, sliding down into the pit.

“I dunno, coulda swore I saw him breathing earlier.”

“It’s dark as hell out here, I’m surprised you even saw him. Never seen a Padrunni on a horse.”

“I don’t think he looks Padrunni, look at his hair.”

There was another sharp, scraping sound, and Dayehmon could see light flaring despite his closed eyes. Someone hissed, and said, “Look at his badge.”

Dayehmon slit his eyes open the barest amount. One of the Eolans crouched in front of him, and pushed at his shoulder, trying to see the badge in question. “Well, shit. He’s part of the witchking’s guard.”

Snake-like, Dayehmon’s hand snapped out and wrapped around the Eolan’s shirt, yanking him close. He swept his knife up to the man’s neck, and the bandit froze, eyes wide, as the other two swore and reached for their own weapons.

The movement and noise startled the horse again, and it heaved its body, braying hoarsely and lashing out with its hooves. Dayehmon sucked in a pained breath as the horse’s weight lifted, and then fell back onto his leg; his hands spasmed from the pain, and the bandit he’d caught jerked back and away from him. 

“Damn it, kill that thing!” one of them snapped at the others. Dayehmon went for a knife in his other sleeve, but before he could do anything, the Eolan punched him in the jaw.

He blacked out, momentarily; there was an ear-piercing squeal from the horse, but then, finally, it had stopped moving. When Dayehmon managed to blink the stars from his eyes, he saw one of the bandits wrench a spear out of the horse.

“Part of the witchking’s guard, huh?” sneered the spearman. His voice belonged to the one someone else had called Orev, and he poked Dayehmon’s ribs with his spear, the barbed head of it covered in the horse’s blood and gore. “Bring that light over.”

Dayehmon shut his eyes as the pain in his jaw sharpened from the light now right in his face. His head pounded, but it wasn’t as heavy as the sick knot in his stomach.

Orev crouched down next to Dayehmon, fearlessly within his reach. “Badge from the royal guard, and those ugly scars down that mug of yours,” he remarked, drawing his own fingers down his cheek in mimicry of the three stark white lines that marked the side of Dayehmon’s face. “I’ve seen you. Followin’ after the cursed witchking, lickin’ every one of his footsteps.”

Dayehmon narrowed his eyes at Orev. “Funny,” he bit out, doing everything he could to keep his voice level and calm. “I don’t remember you.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Orev’s lip curled, and he stood up, before driving the butt of his spear into Dayehmon’s side. Dayehmon bit down on a curse as he felt something snap.

“You wouldn’t,” Orev snarled, and hit him again. “There weren’t enough people left alive in that village for any of you to take note.”

He jerked his chin towards the other two. “Get that damn horse off him. We’re gonna have some fun tonight.”

Dayehmon clenched his jaw. He glanced again towards the beacon sticks, and as the other two highwaymen discussed how to move the horse, he shifted slightly, trying to move close enough to reach the beacon sticks - and, like he’d expected, he drew Orev’s attention. 

The spear came down on Dayehmon’s hand, the metal tip slicing straight through and pinning it to the ground. He couldn’t help the cry of pain this time.

“The hell are those s’posed to be?” Orev demanded, holding his light over to get a better look at the beacon sticks. Dayehmon clenched his jaw and didn’t answer, just breathing through the pain. He let out a sharp hiss as the other bandits finally started to drag at the horse, its weight sliding along his ruined leg one last time.

If he didn’t die from infection from the damn spear, he’d never be able to use that leg again.

“Nothing,” Dayehmon said hoarsely. Orev squinted at him suspiciously, then scoffed, and brought his heel down on the scattered beacon sticks, breaking three or four at once.

Dayehmon smiled.

“More of your witchery?” Orev sneered. He didn’t notice how the shattered pieces of the beacon sticks clung to his boot; even if Dayehmon died, they’d be able to track Orev down. “But you aren’t a witch, are you?”

“You really shouldn’t be complaining about magecraft when you’re on our side of the border,” Dayehmon pointed out. 

Orev yanked the spear out of Dayehmon’s hand. Dayehmon whined like a beaten dog, pulling his arm to his chest on instinct. Orev kicked him.

“This is our land,” he snarled. “You bastards stole it from us. You have no rights here.”

Dayehmon tried to push himself up, pain squeezing tears from the corners of his eyes. “We won it -”

“You witches burned every village from here all the way down the Roar,” Orev hissed. He reached down, one strong hand wrapping around Dayehmon’s shirt, and pulled him a bit closer. A burn scar cascaded across the side of Orev’s neck, disappearing underneath his shirt collar. “You’ll pay for your crimes. All of them.“

He shoved Dayehmon against the side of the pit and straightened up. Panting for breath, Dayehmon watched the three bandits warily, trying to decide if it was worth it to try and stab one of them. His leg was crushed and his hand was ruined and he was pretty sure he had a broken rib, so it wasn’t like he was getting out of here any time soon.

He may as well make them miserable.

“Damn, this is water-steel.” One of the other bandits picked up Dayehmon’s second sword; he’d had it strapped to the horse instead of his back, and the woman gave a whistle as she drew the blade a couple inches out of the sheath. Dayehmon’s good hand twitched.

“They’re cursed,” he said blandly, and the Eolan woman jumped and dropped it.

Orev scoffed. “Don’t listen to him,” he snapped at her, and kicked Dayehmon’s crushed leg. Dayehmon closed his eyes against a burst of stars. “You can’t curse swords.”

“You can, actually.” Dayehmon cradled his bleeding, ruined hand to his chest. Orev scoffed again and reached down, grabbing the hilt of Dayehmon’s sword that still hung at his hip - though very awkwardly, now.

As he pulled the blade free, Dayehmon slipped his second knife from his sleeve and stabbed him in the chest. Or at least he tried to - armor hidden by the man’s shirt and the shadows of the night shunted the blade to the side, and it slipped deep into Orev’s shoulder, instead.

The bandit howled from pain and jumped back, pulling the knife from Dayehmon’s hand before he had a chance to yank it out and try again. Swearing, Orev clamped his hand around the short blade; blood welled up between his fingers, and in retaliation, Orev slammed his spear into Dayehmon’s shoulder.

He must have blacked out again, because the next thing Dayehmon felt was the awful, tearing pain as Orev pulled the barbed spearhead free from his body. “You piece of shit,” Orev seethed. He dragged the bloody spearhead across Dayehmon’s chest. “You’ll pay for that. Give you some new scars to even your ugly mug out, yeah?”

Dayehmon flinched as the spear tapped against his scarred cheek; the lines went down his neck and under his collar, too, and Orev asked, “Wonder how far down those go?”

“Only my wife knows that,” Dayehmon quipped, breathless and unable to see straight - unable to think straight from the pain.

Orev snorted, and then he spat, a glob of saliva landing on Dayehmon’s shirt.

“Let’s get him out of here and off the road,” Orev ordered the other two bandits. “Grab his things. Maybe this witch-worshipping filth has something else worth keeping.”

Dayehmon watched one of the bandits scramble awkwardly out of the pit, the soft, loose dirt giving them some trouble. The woman gathered everything together, stuffing it back haphazardly into Dayehmon’s pack. She crumpled the few remaining beacon sticks as she did, and Dayehmon wondered where the hell Mafvin was - would he even be close enough to sense the broken sticks?

He dropped his head back against the wall of the pit. The pain was overwhelming, but he tried to press his bloody hand to his bloody shoulder, a weak attempt at staunching the flow. None of it hurt worse than his crushed leg, spikes of pain radiating from his knee; it had taken the brunt of the damage from the horse’s fall.

He didn’t notice the rope until Orev fastened it around his neck. Dayehmon’s eyes snapped open, and the bandit grinned down at him. “I was worried you were gone,” he said, and pressed his foot down on Dayehmon’s shattered knee. Gasping, Dayehmon couldn’t help but writhe from the added pain. “Stay awake, bastard.”

Orev stepped back, taking the pressure off of Dayehmon’s leg, and called up to the other two bandits, now both out of the pit, “Haul him out.”

The rope tightened around Dayehmon’s throat. He sucked in a breath; ignoring the screaming from his shoulder, he reached up with his unharmed hand, trying to fit a finger in between the rope and his neck as they dragged him upwards. Struggling weakly, Dayehmon gasped for breath, his vision going white. He tried to get his good leg underneath him, to take some of the pressure off his windpipe, but that only lasted long enough for him to get a quick breath of air, before the pulling took over again.

It felt like an eternity before Dayehmon was on his back again, on level ground and staring up at the stars through tears-blurred eyes. He pulled feebly at the taut rope around his neck, but one of the bandits he couldn’t see kept the pressure just tight enough to make every breath a struggle.

He could see the female bandit out of the corner of his eye, pacing over to the pit to reach down; Orev scrambled up a moment later.

“Still awake?” Orev ground the butt of his spear into Dayehmon’s shoulder, prompting a whimper from the guard. Orev grinned. “Good. We still got a ways to go, and I ain’t wasting the time to put you on a horse. Better keep breathing.”

He looked away from Dayehmon and opened his mouth to call to the others. Whatever words were going to come out instead turned into a strangled shriek as thorny vines burst from the middle of the road, snaking up Orev’s legs. The other bandits shouted in alarm, and the rope around Dayehmon’s neck slackened as they dropped it, the holder running to Orev instead. They didn’t get very far - another set of lashing vines grabbed them and pulled them to the ground.

Dayehmon dropped his head to the ground, an awful, hysterical laugh clawing its way out of his throat. He could feel, more than hear, the vibrating of hooves, galloping along the road, and he dropped his head to one side to see the white socks of his king’s horse skid to a stop.

“Tibur!” More plants curled around Dayehmon now - but they were free of spikes and thorns, far gentler with him than they were with the three bandits. Petal-soft vines wrapped gently around his bleeding shoulder, but living plants could do little to staunch blood flow, even when guided by the magic of Dayehmon’s king. A soft groan escaped him as he felt his head and shoulders gently lifted, Mafvin cradling Dayehmon in his lap.

“Tibur, I’m sorry,” Mafvin said, his green eyes wide and frantic as he pressed his hand to the plants covering Dayehmon’s bleeding shoulder. More wrapped around his hand, thinner and flowering, the petals pressing against the wounds. “I’m sorry, I - I didn’t meant to be gone for long - You should have stayed -”

Dayehmon forced a tired smile. It was difficult to focus on the king’s face; he closed his eyes for a moment, and shivered when he felt the rope wrapped around his neck slither away. “Wherever you go, your majesty,” Dayehmon panted, “I follow.”

“I know.” Mafvin dropped his head, bowing until his forehead pressed against Dayehmon’s. Something wet fell against the bodyguard’s scarred cheek. “I know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t - I shouldn’t have run off -”

“It’s all right.” Dayehmon forced a grin, the expression pulled crooked by his scars. “Think this is the fastest I’ve found you again in years.”

A cracked laugh clawed its way out of Mafvin’s throat. He pressed his lips to the corner of Dayehmon’s mouth; Dayehmon tried to lift a hand, but the pain was too much, and he dropped it again with a wince. All the thoughts he had, all the anger and annoyance at Mafvin running off again, had long disappeared. He was just glad the king was here now.

The king looked up at a choked-off curse, and his face hardened as he remembered the bandits, all caught up in spiked vines. Orev struggled with a knife, trying to slice through the plants that held him captive, a couple of feet off the ground.

“You gods-fucking, murderous, monster,” the Eolan spat at Mafvin. “What are you gonna do to us?”

Mafvin’s voice was perfectly cold - but the vines around Orev loosened, just a fraction, just enough to give the bandit hope. “I promised I would take no more lives after the Desolation.”

“Promises mean nothin’, with a cowardly witch like you,” Orev sneered. Mafvin’s face became stone.

“You’re right,” he said softly. Dayehmon watched the king raise his hand, and then closed it into a fist. He closed his eyes, sighing with a motion that cracked his ribs even more. 

A sickening crunch of bones, and a cry of pain that was cut short into a gurgle, as the vines wrapped themselves tighter and tighter around the three bandits. Dayehmon had killed his fair share of people, and seen even more die, in horrible ways - but he turned his face into Mafvin’s shirt, grasping the cloth weakly with one hand until the screams and cries fell silent.

King Mafvin was not physically strong enough to pick Dayehmon up, but he did anyway, lifting the guard with supernatural ease. As gentle as he was, Dayehmon still let out a hiss of pain. 

“I’m sorry, Commander,” Mafvin whispered, as a wind rose around them, and along with it, the vertigo that came every time Mafvin magically transported them somewhere. With his injuries, Dayehmon didn’t think he could stand it; he moaned in pain and clutched even tighter at Mafvin. The king could do anything he wanted with his magic - anything, except heal. 

“Never again, Tibur. I promise. Never again.”

So to recap briefly, the heroes made it Atlas! But they are now going to jail! Is that the fastest that everything has gone wrong in a volume? Anyways! We’re now going from the grimy city of Mantle, to the so-called utopia in the sky. What will happen now? Will our heroes become jailbirds and we get the RWBY rendition of Jailhouse Rock? Or will ironwood be able to bail them out… although if he does, I still would love a RWBY version of Jailhouse Rock. Someone tell Jeff Williams to get on that! But I guess we better answer the question, so to the review!

Overview

Atlas personnel are airlifting RWBYJNRQO to Atlas along with some random guy. As Nora tries to chew her way out like I do when I can’t get a bag of chips open, Jaune complains about how easily they got taken down with Weiss confirming that the Ace-Ops are Ironwood’s specialized forces. This catches random guy’s, who the credits reveal is named Forest, attention. He’s surprised since, in his own words, they are Ironwoods personal attack dogs so them going after anyone is kind of a big deal. He himself got arrested for protesting about the mistreatment of Mantle… well okay, it was because he threw a brick at a ship, but same deal! But from him, we learn of a woman named Robyn Hill and the Happy Huntresses, who are graduates of Atlas who stayed in Mantle to defend the people and try to make those people’s lives better. Robyn’s fighting for a seat on the council to end Ironwood’s ‘tyranny’. Weiss questions that last bit as dramatic, with Forest calling her out for living a cushiony life due to being a Schnee. To which Weiss can only reply that she isn’t anymore.

Things take a turn, however, as the gang isn’t taken to jail. Instead, they are taken to Atlas Academy. As they’re taken inside, Ruby isn’t sure what to do but says that they should be careful with that they say and Blake says that they’ll all follow her lead. Everyone is led to Ironwood and, to the surprise of Weiss, Winter. Oh, and Penny’s there too! Yay!!!  Winter has the guards free them, or she will start hurting them. Ironwood apologizes as he leads everyone into his office, having assumed that the ship was stolen… and Ruby confirms that’s the case. Winter gets angry due to how dangerous and irresponsible that was… but she’s stopped when Weiss hugs her. Weiss explains that they had to, to which Winter calms down and hugs back. Aww~ That being said, she’s not happy that Qrow allowed it, which leads us to the topic at hand. Qrow says that they have confidential intel to give… but to his and everyone’s surprise, both Penny and Winter are fully aware of the Relics and Maidens. Yep, Ironwood told them as well as Ace-Ops, but he does have a reason.

He explains that when Oz died, he had to formulate his own plans in order to ensure Atlas’ safety against Salem. Ace-Ops gave him the Relic of Knowledge after the arrest, with the Staff of Creation safely sealed in the Vault and the Winter Maiden is in stable condition. But now we get to the topic of Atlas’ current image due to the Embargo, the troop recall, the closed-off borders, and as the teens point out, the discourse and poor treatment of Mantle. This makes Ironwood look… well, bad, and he knows it. But again, he explains the reason why. Remember Amity Colosseum? The location for the Vytal Festival? Well, the plan is to turn it into essentially a satellite and with its launch, they can re-establish global communications and as such, even if another CCT were to fall then they can avoid that issue again. Which… is a good thing! It is a huge handicap for everyone across Remnant that locks them from the rest of the world, and fixing that is a very good idea. The problem? Well…

The second part of the plan is to go public about Salem. Let me repeat: the plan is to GO PUBLIC about SALEM. You see the problem with that, right?! Well, this is why Ironwood has his troops on high alert. He knows that this will cause mass panic and thus mass Grimm attacks. So he has all of his forces on standby to be ready when all Hell breaks loose. After everything is secure, then he’ll go global with the reveal. Essentially, Ironwood thinks that keeping the fight secret is now outdated, especially after the Fall, and as the title suggests, it’s time for a new approach. With Ozpin not there to guide them, Ironwood is doing what he feels is best despite knowing how many lives that Oz spent keeping the secret.  It’s at this point, however, that they reveal that Oscar is the new Ozpin. He’s happy to hear this and begins to express this to Oz… until Oscar breaks it to him that Oz is currently gone. Which naturally gets Ironwood to question how that is.

Before Oscar can say anything, Ruby steps in and answers the question… by saying that after the train crash, he was just gone. Nothing about Jinn. Nothing about Salem and Oz’s history. Nothing about Salem’s immortality. Oz was just gone, and they don’t know the reason why. When pushed about what Oz said about the Relics, she says what Oz originally told them; that the questions had all been used up, which she fully well knows is not the case. Ironwood seems to accept this and assures Oscar that he’s safe in Atlas. He then gives Ruby back the Relic of Knowledge as a sign of trust before offering the resources of the Atlas Military to help get the gang upgraded and ready for the fight ahead.

Everyone is free to go, and they briefly encounter the Ace-Ops. Clover apologizes for what happened earlier and that he and the others are looking forward to fighting alongside them. We also get to see and hear the other four and the credits reveal their names as Elm Ederne, Marrow Amin, Harriet Bree, and Vine Zeki. Harriet seems to be clearly based on The Hare from Tortoise and the Hare and Marrow could be one of many things since Aesop had a lot of wolf-inspired stories. But due to his brief fib about not looking forward to working with the team, I’ll say The Boy Who Cried Wolf. Not 100% sure about Elm and Vine, though there is a fable called The Elm and the Vine so that could be the inspiration, but we’ll see when we learn more about them. As Penny goes to give the gang a tour, despite their exhaustion and just wanting to go to bed… and not being pleased that they have to stay in dorms like the Beacon days, Ironwood stops Qrow. Why? Just to tell him that he is genuinely happy to see him again. He even hugs him! Aww~ Hopefully, THAT won’t lead to anything horrible later!

Speaking of horrible, remember in V6 when Tyrian revealed that he and Watts were being sent to Atlas? Weeeeellllll… 

We cut to Watts, a suitcase with who knows what in hand, walking through Mantle during a rainy evening. He and Tyrian are using mobile communications since being in one location makes it easier for them to be found out. He seems to have full control over the security tech of Mantle since unlike Atlas, the coding is never updated and we learn that he helped write said coding. He demonstrates this by knocking out the cameras and we end with Tyrian (with his fancy V4 coat back!) exiting a building. He walks away, a pool of blood spilling out from the cracks, and the cameras fail to see the man who caused it. A dark sign of what’s to come…

Review

HO BOY, do we have a LOOOT to talk about. So, we’re not gonna waste any time. Let's talk about Ironwood and his current plan.

Let's weigh both sides here. On the one hand, Ironwood’s plan… makes sense. At least logically. The plan to use Amity Colosseum to reestablish global communications is a sound one, and is something that should be done. Doing so could also help clean up Atlas’ tarnished image after all the recent decisions and after being painted as the bad guys at the Fall of Beacon. His plan about going public also does have a legitimately good point. What has keeping the fight secret solved? All they’ve ever been able to do is push Salem back, never stop her. The people deserve to know what’s actually happening, especially after the Fall where many got killed because of it. Ironwood is keeping it secluded to Atlas first and needs his forces ready for the fallout as well as all the ammo and safety precautions needed. It explains the Embargo. It explains the police state. It explains the closed borders. You can look at all of Ironwood’s actions, and it makes sense when you look at his plan. Chaos is going to break out, and he has to be ready for it.

But, of course, we have the other hand. For one, he’s depriving other kingdoms of safety and resources due to his actions, making it harder for them to protect themselves. And even then, Mantle is being treated like garbage, even though Ironwood should also be keeping them safe instead of acting like a dictator. Even if he accepts that as a necessary evil, there are better ways to help Mantle without making them terrified or feel like lower class. We saw last chapter that even children are fighting back against the drones and hanging up political posters. Children. That… is not a state that any city should be in. As Qrow said, they don't need the whole military for the Amity Colosseum, and there are better ways to prep troops without causing panic. Ironwood did this at the Fall when the Vale Council gave him control, and he had a huge army set out. The result? Well… I don’t think I need to recap that. He is doing the exact same as before, but without anyone there either capable or willing to talk back against him.

But now we get to the public plan. This is a horrible plan. As they said in V3, this breaks pretty much everything that the world ever knew and is going to cause mass panic. IDC if the army is ready for it, they are severely underestimating the results of this decision. Ones that are going to cost the kingdom. Badly. Like… brink of destruction levels of badly. Plus again, Ironwood is doing exactly what he did the last time. He’s opening the floor up for the exact same results. Even if they updated their coding, Watts will likely find a way through it. Look at how easily he did it in V3 with the virus he supplied Cinder. The same thing is bound to happen again, only this time I highly doubt that they’re going to get things under control until… well, there’s nothing left to take back.

This is insanely risky. Too risky. Now, could there be a way to break the news to the world without the same risks? I don’t know. But I do know that this is the wrong way to do it. It has too much room for error and doesn’t take into account any of the things that went wrong so badly last time. Then again, with Ironwood’s paranoia, who knows what else is going on that he just hasn’t said yet? Trust seems to be the theme of this volume, and Ironwood seem willing to give the gang his. But… IDK. Something feels off. There are some theories going around about him using the hug to bug Qrow, or bugging the Relic. IDK if I belive that, but I’m not ruling it out either. Maybe he does trust them, but the ‘what-ifs’ are too much in his mind and he can’t help himself. After all, as he said in V4, Oz didn’t listen to him. What’s going to stop anyone else from doing the same?

This is why I don’t blame Ruby for lying. Anyone can tell that Ironwood is on edge. How dangerous and reckless his current plans are. Ruby’s in no real position to argue, nor does she likely have an argument. So the best thing to do, until she can think of something better, is to go along with it and try to help the people. Yes, she is lying as Ozpin did. Some have argued how she didn’t technically lie since the train crash did happen and she did tell Ironwood what Ozpin told them, just as he asked. But it’s STILL not being truthful. She’s telling half-truths. She’s giving answers that she knows are false. Now I will say that this isn’t exactly like with Oz. Ruby is only lying to Ironwood and has a valid reason to do so, along with having very little time to think of much else. As she said before going in, they had to be careful with what they said, and she was. Oz lied and it wasn’t without reason, but he did so even without reason and to the people risking their lives for his quest that he didn’t explain the full extent of. Plus unlike Ruby, Oz had years to master the facade. Ruby had to make a split-second choice, and she was clearly uncertain about it in her body movement and in Lindsay’s performance. There is a big difference in this instance and in Ozpin’s instances.

But it’s a slippery slope, isn’t it?

No matter how much you justify it, it’s still lying. It’s doing the same thing that they called Oz out for in V6. I’m not calling Ruby a hypocrite though. Why? Because them doing this? This is a good thing. This is what I wanted to happen. Ruby is now the leader. She has to make difficult choices and face the consequences due to said choices. Previously, she only lead Team RWBY and she didn’t have to make many hard choices then. With Team RNJR, it was more or less the same except not as much since it wasn’t her team technically and when Qrow and Oz came into the picture, she didn’t have to make choices at all. She did as she was told because those who supposedly knew what they were doing were there, But then they were either gone or incapable of doing the job, so she stepped up and despite the setbacks, got them to Atlas with minimal consequence. I mean we just saw here that Ironwood let them free, so that solves that issue.

That’s not going to be so easy now. These choices are going to cause problems. Maybe Ironwood will find out on his own or if he did infact bug them. Maybe Ruby or someone else like Oscar will tell him the truth and he takes it badly. Maybe Ruby says nothing, and it leads to a disaster that she could have prevented if she had spoken up. No matter what route the show goes down, Ruby is about to get another harsh reality lesson, and that is how difficult leadership can be. This isn’t like at Beacon where if she messed up, they could solve it easily. No, this time she’s part of something much more complicated. She has to make the choices that Oz has had to make for centuries. I think that this will help her see where Oz is coming from and allow them to reconcile, but also allow Ruby to see where Oz went wrong and better herself. She’s not just going to understand Oz, but she’s going to become better than Oz. But that’s going to come with a lot of hardship, and it is something that she will have to deal with. Not just with herself, but chances are, with her team as well…

Okay, that’s enough on harsh and complicated topics. This is our general set-up episode, and it does a very good job! We have the plan for the arc established, setting up Amity Colosseum for launch and in the meantime doing work around Atlas and Mantle with Ace-Ops. We get to see Atlas Academy, and it looks gorgeous. We get to properly see Winter again, and Weiss hugging her just melted my heart. Makes me worry about later considering Winter’s loyalty to Ironwood and Weiss clearly not liking what’s happening, but still, I’ll take the happy for now. Penny was a delight, especially with the tour, which excellent animation there! Man, it’s just a joy to have her back~! Forest was fun and we learn about Robyn Hill and her group from him, which will likely come into play later. Especially since we can confirm that she’s going up against Jaques for council. That’s… gonna be interesting, to put it lightly.

This was Kiersi Buckhart’s first episode as a writer, and she nailed it! The exposition wasn’t boring and the characters felt very strong here, Ironwood especially. You know that he’s making bad choices, but the writing makes you understand why and that and Jason Rose’s’ performance as Ironwood was genuine with his views. I could understand all of these decisions, even if I don’t agree, and that’s what makes for good and compelling drama. It was strong in the character department and the pacing, os good job Kiersi! Connor Pickens directed the episode, and it looks excellent! Especially for all the camera angles as Watts walks through Mantle. Like when he steps into a puddle with the reflection of Ironwood on screen? Excellence!. Great job Connor~!

Speaking of that scene though… yeah, that was dark. No idea who Tyrian killed, maybe some kind of informant or something that's no longer needed. But man, what a grim (no pun intended) scene to end on. But it establishes the threat very well. Tyrian we all know is not a force to be taken lightly. But neither is Watts. He did his job in Mistral perfectly, and that only failed because of Cinder taking control and keeping Watts out of it after the new plan was made. But he’s the one in charge now and he is in his wheelhouse now. He has control over Mantle’s security, and if he could break Atlas’ before, he can probably do it again. And remember the Election Map that he had in the opening. IDK what the plan is, but with Watts heading it, it's gonna be bad. Add that with Tyrian, and we indeed have a lethal combination. Will our heroes be able to stop it? Only time will tell…

Chapter Three Predictions

It’s all but guaranteed that this is when we’ll get the new outfits, the haircuts, ad the new gear. It’ll probably be a bit of a lighter episode and maybe allow some nice character stuff and maybe even see the Ace-Ops more or see more around the Academy. But I do think that Ruby may have a bit of conflict as a follow-up to here. Remember the line in the trailer about her being uncertain about if the best thing is right? Well… IDK who she was talking to. Could be Oscar. Could be her team. Could be Qrow. IDK, but I imagine that it may very well bein this episode. Either someone confronts her (which judging by his expressions might be Oscar) or someone sees that something is wrong and get her to talk. Maybe it’s even part of some talk where Ruby expresses her uncertainty but tries to get spirits lifted and ignore her own conflicts as she normally does. Either scenario is possible.

Still, I imagine that it will be a lighter episode with some fun hijinks and maybe some emotional like Blake getting her haircut… or hilarious if they play up Jaune’s horrible haircut. Maybe we could get a bit of a glimpse into stuff with Robyn and the election or we see the Schnees again or something else. I think that it might end with the scenes in the trailer of the girls jumping out of the plane, ready for a mission, and it will lead to the scenes of everyone fighting in the mines that’ll cross into Chapter 4. Either way, as I said, we’re at least guaranteed the upgrades next volume and those are gonna be fun~! I can’t wait~!!!

Episode Stats

Favorite Character: Ruby Rose  Favorite Scene: Penny’s Tour Least Favorite Scene: The airlift to Atlas, the lighting looked kinda off to me… Forest was a delight though. Favorite Voice Actor: Jason Rose (James Ironwood) Favorite Animation: Final scene in Mantle. The camera angle when Watts is walking through Mantle in the rain were amazingly done, especially with Ironwood's reflection in the puddle. Final Ranking: 9/10

Final Thoughts

This chapter was fantastic! It’s a setup episode done very well. We learn all that we need to know for now, and it works with strong character personalities. It was funny, it was heartwarming, but most of all it was intense. THere’s a lot of good, compelling drama here and sets up so much for later on with Ruby, Ironwood, the villains, and the plans for Atlas. There’s a lot that’s coming, and if it’s already this intense then I can’t imagine how the remaining 11 chapters are gonna be. But I’m ready for it… I hope… still, great chapter!

32

       I leaned casually against the stone wall despite the cuffs around my wrists and the chains attaching me to the wall. I watched as two guards argued.

      The one on the right poked the other guard in the chest. “What the hell were you thinking bringing someone like her here?”

        The one on the left grabbed Right’s wrist and shoved their hand away. “She’s one of those hunters who have been raiding our towns. Of course I brought her to jail once I took her down.”

         Right crossed their arms. “You took her down? Really? You?”

         Left nodded vigorously. “Yes, me. What’s that supposed to mean?”

          Right pointed at me. “It’s supposed to mean that she is one of them. No one except royal vamps can take one down.”

         “One of them?”

         I shook my head. Poor innocent little Left. 

           “A freak. A beast. A monster. You know?” Right prompted. 

          Left stepped back from the bars of my cell. “Fuck, really?”

         “Uh, yeah.” Right goraned. “Ugh. You’re such an idiot. What are we supposed to do with her now? She obviously let you capture her. Since there’s no way you could over power her.” 

       Right glanced at me. I smirked. Better for them to think I had a secret agenda and that Left didn’t just actually capture me because I was poisoned. I just had to fool them into thinking that I was at full power and could kill them until I actually could. 

        “We could put silver on her then find a royal to take care of her.” Left suggested, nervously. 

       Right sighed. “Get silver on her and I will ask the Boss lady about contacting a royal.”

         They walked away, and I cursed internally. Fuck. I needed to get out before a royal came. I wouldn’t be able to get out of silver especially not in my weakened state. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Fucking R and her stupid territory qualms. We couldn’t be fighting over land amongst ourselves when Vamps were still ruling most of the world. But, noooo. R and her stupid ass decided let’s poison this rogue werewolf that happened upon our land. She definitely won’t need to fight Vamps or anything because she just raided a town. 

       I heard Left’s footsteps returning and I erased all signs of panic from my face, opting instead for a look of cool indifference. Left came back into view holding an armful of silver. I could smell the distinctive metallic odor from down the hall. 

       Left pulled open the door the my cell and shut them behind them, dropping the silver on the ground. “Just behave and this will go easier.”

       I shrugged. “Like I care.” I resisted the urge to flinch as she began wrapping the chains around my arms. I forced a laugh. “Hate to disillusion you, but silver is actually weaker than the steel. It doesn’t hurt us, it’s a scam we made up to escape easier from you.”

         Left paused. “Really? But-“

        I cut her off. “But nothing. Go ahead and wrap me up and silver. I don’t mind it will make it easier to escape. Do you want that in your head. How many mistakes do you need on your record?” I started counting on my fingers. “First you bring me here endangering everyone, and now, second, you’re going to fail to lock me up securely. What happens to you when I escape here?” I smirked. “I suppose you end up on the streets.” I held my arms out to her. “Your choice.”

        Left began unwrapping the chains from my arms. I resisted breathing a sigh of relief as the burning left. My ruse had worked. The silver chains fell away, and Left picked them up.

      They opened the door and left. “Good luck escaping now.” They laughed. “You may be strong, but you’re not very smart. You shouldn’t have told me that. Now you’re doomed to fight the Royal.”

          I feigned fear. “Crap. My big mouth is going to get me killed.”

        I heard them laugh. “You should learn how to keep quiet.”

       I sunk to the floor in feigned defeat. Once I heard their footsteps fade, I began pulling at the chains. Ugh, I couldn’t break them. Stupid poison. I couldn’t shift, my strength was gone, and everything hurt. Stupid fucking R. I was going to die because if her, unless this Royal took several days to show up. Without food, water, or medicine, it would take several days for the poison o leave my system. 

          Maybe my defeat wasn’t so feigned after all. I was doomed.

32.1

        I wasn’t sure how long I had been in the cell. I had no way to tell time. The only reassurance that I had that time was moving was that the guards would change shifts. How often, I had no clue, but so far the shift had changed twice. All the vamp guards wore the same metal armor that covered them from head to toe so I had no way of knowing which guard was which. Was there only two switching off or more? Not that that would help. Whatever R had poisoned me with I had underestimated. I was only growing weaker by the hour. Whereas before I had only been cut off from wolf and thus my extra strength left still with the strength of a normal human, albeit a strong one, now I was steadily going down hill. I would struggle to fight off a normal vamp in my current condition. I had no hope of escape or surviving this fight. Urgh. Fuck R. Fuck her and her stupid territorial claims. I wasn’t even part of a pack. I wasn’t a threat to her or her territory, and now I’m going to die because of her. 

        At some point I had fallen unconscious, either asleep or front he poison I wasn’t sure. Either way I woke to voices outside my cell. 

        “Did you use silver on it?” A powerful voice asked. 

        “No. I was told not to by one of the other guards.” The muffled voice of a guard responded. 

         “Then, why is it so weak?”

         “We are not sure, but some of the guards theorize that it’s an act to lower our guard so it can attack, although it was acting quite cocky when we first brought it in.” The guard mused. “Since a regular Vamp captured it, some guards thought that it allowed itself to be captured for some reason. They are concerned that it may be a trap.”

         “Someone get some silver chains on it so I can have a closer look, but I doubt that it’s faking. It looks seriously unwell.”

        “Yes, Royal.” The guard saluted and left. 

        The Royal Vamp grabbed the bars peering through. “You really are in a sorry state. What happened to you? I’ve never seen anything like this before. Taken down without a single injury.” She shook her head. “So much for a beast. You’re more pathetic than a human.”

        I pushed myself up into a standing position glaring at the Royal Vamp. “Fuck you.”

         They laughed. “Fiesty one, aren’t you?” They paused. “Huh, strange I don’t recognize your scent. You’re not from a pack, are you?”

         I simple glared at her, despite the fact the I was forced to use the wall to stay standing.

         “A lone wolf. That’s a dangerous path.” They laughed to themselves. “Although I guess you know that now.”

        The guard returned with the silver, opening the door for the Royal. The Royal Vamp grabbed the chains and walked towards me. I heard the door clank shut although the Royal blocked my view. They were taller than me by a few inches and were wearing an elegant gown. Their long black hair fell beautifully down their back.

      I focused back on the silver cuffs. No was not the time to admire how beautiful Royal Vamps were. 

       They grabbed my arms roughly and pulled them in front of me causing me to stumble forward. I swayed slightly, as my vision spun. The burn of silver in my wrists gave me something to focus on other than the constant pain throughout my body. I managed to stand straight despite my entire body wanting to collapse.

       The Royal grabbed my face and peered at it. Then opened my mouth peering inside. I couldn’t fight even this. I really was pathetic. I struggled to even stand as the Royal looked all over my body. I was only wearing a cloth wrapping around my chest and a pair of loose pants. The idea was that transforming was easy, although that wasn’t a problem for me right now, seeing as I was completely cut off from my wolf, because of that damn poison.

       The Royal finally finished their inspection. “Let me offer you a deal.” I didn’t respond so the vamp continued. “I’m assuming you’re going to die whether I fight you or not, and I don’t really want to fight you because it wouldn’t even last a second. So,

I have a proposition. A way for you to live.”

       I stared up at her in confusion. What the hell are they talking about?

        “I will have my doctors try and heal you, but in return you have to be my slave.”

         “No.” I didn’t hesitate. There was no way in hell that I was becoming a Vamp’s slave. Especially, not a Royal. 

        “Are you sure? I can tell that you are strong, but just sick right now. I would love to have a fighter like you under my command. It would be a shame for someone as strong as you to just die.”

       Who is this Royal trying to convince? Like I would be swayed by the prospect of fighting for the people I had been fighting against. But... maybe I could get something out of this if she really want me that badly. 

        “If you let your human slaves go.” I offered. 

        “You’re not in a position to barter.”

       I shrugged. “Either I die now or I die later. I am still going to try and free these humans from your tyranny. They deserve better than being forced to live in hiding or to live as slaves.”

          “Why do you care about them? They are less than both of us.” The Royal pushed. 

        “Because, they are my family, and you Vamps took them away from me.” I spat. 

        The Royal sighed. “Okay, I’ll let the humans free. You will fight for me then?”

      I nodded. “If I survive.”

       “Perfect. We have a deal.” She turned to the guard. “This wolf is coming with me. Can you please come undo her chains.”

        “Yes, Royal.” The guard dutifully complied.

32.2

         I woke up on a bed. That was wrong. I hadn’t slept on a bed in years. I panicked sitting up quickly looking around. I found myself in a blank room. It only contained the bed I was on. The door was a simple wooden one with a round door handle. I slid off the military cot and took stock of the situation. I was healed, back to full strength. I reached for my wolf and felt the familiar connection. 

        I was in new clothes, different clothes. For one I was actually wearing a shirt. Someone, presumably the doctors had dressed me in a tight fitting athletic long sleeve shirt and pants. I grabbed the fabric in distaste. How the hell was i supposed to transform easily in this? I wasn’t a Vamp who wore armor. I needed to be able to take my clothes on and off easily. 

       Ugh, it didn’t matter. If the stupid Royal wanted to pay for me to have new clothes every time I shifted and ripped them then that was her choice. I headed to the door and twisted the handle. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t budge. I was a slave after all. I guess it was too much to hope for freedom to roam around the house or castle or wherever I was. I sat back in the bed. I could knock down the door, but that wouldn’t get me anywhere.

      I stood back up. To hell with it. I didn’t give a rats ass about follow any Vamp’s orders especially not a Royal’s. I grabbed the handle again to see if maybe it had suddenly become unlocked. Big surprise, it hadn’t. I punched through the wood next to the handle and reached through to turn the handle from the other side. The door swung open and I stepped into the hallway. Narrow with stone on both sides. I began walking down the hall when I hurried footsteps. To fast to be human. I spun to face the Royal. 

        They reached to grab my shoulder but I dodged the hit grabbing their arm and using their momentum to swing her over my shoulder. I spun to face them and they were already up on their feet. I prepared for the next attack, but it never came. 

          “I will not fight with you. A master doesn’t fight with their slave, only punish them.” They glared at me. “Best keep that in mind. We had an agreement. You are my slave. You listen to me. Any disobedience will be punished.”

           I smirked. “Never said I would be an obedient slave.” I began stepping back from her. They lunged forward and grabbed for my neck, missing. I was yanked forwards. What the fuck? She was gripping a chain in her hand. The chain of a necklace. A necklace that was around my neck. 

      They pulled me towards them and growled in my ear. “You know what this is? This is a collar. Loose enough to fit around your wolf. This marks that I own you. Don’t forget that.” She paused. “And, If you don’t start listening I will get human slaves again. Do you submit to me?”

         “I submit.” I whispered out.

       They let go of the collar. “Good, now come with me. You’re going to help train some vamps.”

          I gestured to my clothes. “Not in this I won’t.”

        They sighed. “Am I supposed to let you go walking around half naked?”

       “Yes, if you don’t want me to shred my clothes.” I pulled at the long sleeves. “This takes too long to take off. There’s a reason I wore what I did.”

         “Fine, I’ll get you different clothes.” They relented.

        “Thanks, Vamp.”

         “You can call me by my rank, Royal or my name, Vanessa, but not Vamp.” They demanded.

        I shrugged. “Okay, V.”

       They sighed. “Whatever, close enough. Now what is your name.”

        I paused. “Umm, I forgot.”

       They growled in irritation. “You, forgot?”

       I shrugged. “Uh, Yeah?”

       She paused. “You’re not lying?”

       “I wish I was.” I admitted. “I haven’t been called by a name since I was little, I don’t remember what it was. It never seemed important.”

         “You’ve been alone for that long?” She asked, with what might have been pity. 

       I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess you can just call me whatever.” Distaste entered my voice. “You’re my, ugh, Master, so it’s not like what I say matters.”

       They paused at a door. “We’re here Wolf. Shred those clothes for now, I’ll have a different pair for when we’re done.” They opened the door exposing a large outdoor training field. “Shift. Then we’ll begin.”

        I growled at the command but complied, shifting into my wolf form. The necklace was now snug around my neck, but not too tight. My gray fur contrasted the brown dirt of the training grounds.

      They pointed at me and while walking away towards another building. “Stay. I will return in armor and with some other Warriors.”

         I growled, hating being ordered around, but I listened. I enjoyed being back in this form. I stretched out as I waited for the Vamps to return. Finally, the door of the building opened and out came V followed by several other Vamps. They were all wearing armor, lighter than the guards, consisting of just a chestplate, boots and gauntlets. 

         V strode towards me. “This is a rare opportunity to train against a beast without being in danger of dying because Wolf here will not be killing anyone.” She gave me a pointed glare. “But, they’re still allowed to hurt you and will fight without holding back.” She looked at me making sure I understood. I nodded and began circling the group of Vamps. 

        They charged at me in a group but I easily dodged the attack grabbing the last Vamp by the leg and swinging them around the be slammed into the ground. I tore my paw across their chest growling in their face. I latched my jaws around their neck but just left several imprints, instead of ripping it out. The others had surrounded me slowly closing in. I charged straight for the one in front of me. They grabbed my neck holding my mouth back from their face, but I kicked my back paws clawing them in the stomach, my claws easily cutting through the metal. They dropped me in surprise and the other vampires closed in on me. I jumped off the bloody Vamp and escaped their circle. I ran around the field circling them, slowly closing in. One began chasing after me and I stopped, spinning around to catch the speeding vamp by surprise. I latched my teeth into their leg and pulled them to a harsh stop. I followed up by pouncing on their back and closing my jaws around their necks. I left red dots of blood as a souvenir before turning to deal with the remaining few. 

        I dispatched them with relative ease, and turned to V. She nodded. “Good job Wolf. The rest of you get healed up, but wait and watch. I’m going to fight them now.”

          We circled around them, waiting for the other to move. V shot forwards hoping to grab me. They were much faster than the other Vamps, but not fast enough. I dodged the grab and instead latched my teeth into one of her arms. Her coppery blood filled my mouth, as I tugged. She brought her other hand down, punching me in the back. I released her arm and jumped back. Blood was dripping from my mouth, as I prepared to lunge. I leaned for her face, she grabbed my under my front arms, but I used my back feet to claw through her armor and to her stomach. She grunted in pain but ignored the blood, squeezing me. I howled in pain, as I struggled in their grasp. I managed to twist my head and latch my teeth into their arm, ripping the flesh out with a yank. She was forced to let me go with that arm and I twisted out of her other grasp landing on my paws. 

         She was bleeding from multiple areas and I was barely injured, so what was her plan. I began circling again breaking into a sprint as my circle grew wider. I built up speed until I was going as fast as I could while turning. V was spinning in place following my movement carefully. Suddenly, I clawed the ground and turned quickly charging straight at V at full speed. She crouched ready to catch me, but at the last second I threw myself down to the ground sliding under her reaching hands and knocking her off her feet. I pounced on her back and closed my jaws around her neck. I tightened just enough to draw blood letting them know I could kill her. I stood back as V brushed herself off. 

     She addressed the other Vamps angrily. “Leave.” When they hesitated V shouted. “Now!”

        She pointed to me. “Come with me. I have clothes for you to put on, then I need to drink your blood.”

       I growled. What the fuck? Drink my blood? Why mine?

        She scowled. “Don’t act so surprised. You made me get rid of my humans, so I have no humans to drink blood from, so I have to drink yours. How else will I heal from this beating you gave me?”

        I sighed and reluctantly followed her into the building. 

        We entered into a locker room of some sort, and she gestured to a pile of clothes. “Those are yours.”

         I sniffed them with my nose, inspecting them. It was a pair of sweatpants and a cloth wrap for my chest. I shifted and tugged in the paints then began wrapping my chest with quick, practiced movements. I turned around and V was right there. 

       She grinned, baring her fangs. “Ready?”

        I shrugged. “Like I have a choice.”

       She just grinned grabbing me and pulling me closer. I could feel her hot breathe on my neck. Then pain as her fangs pierced my skin. I cried out in pain, but the pain was quickly replaced by a numbness as her venom entered my system. I was forced to lean on them for support as my body grew weak from the venom. She finally pulled her fangs out and the effects of the venom went away.

       I pushed them away and stood up. “Ugh.” I groaned. 

       She just grinned, licking their lips. “You taste delicious, .”

        I scowled stepping back. My hand instinctively shooting up to my neck where the bite mark had healed into a scar. I rubbed it uncertainly while stepping back. I hated how much control this Royal had over me. Being forced to let my sworn enemy drink my blood was the biggest insult to my goal of taking down the Vampire regime. 

         “Come with me Wolf. I have work and I need you to work so I’m assigning you to work for one of the other Vamps. I will still need you for training so I will use you some days but otherwise you will be reporting to Ira.”  She commanded stalking out of the room. I followed her obediently despite feeling several bruises developing around my rib cage from where they grabbed me. 

         She led me across the field and around the building then to a different building, also stone, bigger than the barracks but smaller than the main castle. She pushed open the large wooden, calling out. “Ira, I got you a replacement slave. I’ll need to borrow them from time to time, but otherwise they’re yours.”

         I entered the building as V shoved me. Large stalls lined the walls so I must be in a barn. A vampire wearing jeans and a shirt came around the corner of the stalls, carrying a hay bale easily with one hand. 

          “Hey, there. I’m Ira.” She nodded at me. “Come with me and I’ll get you settled.”

         I followed her down the hall and she set the hay bale down.

      She turned to me brushing off her hands holding one out to me. “What’s your name?”

         I stared questioningly at her hand before hesitantly shaking it. “I don’t have one.” I paused before adding. “But, V has been calling me Wolf.”

          “V, eh?” She laughed, turning to walk down the hall. “Guessing she doesn’t like that.”

         I shook my head. “No, but I’ll be damned if I have to listen to everything that Vamp says.”

          She paused. “Don’t like us much?”

          “Nope.” I growled, my anger growing at the mention.

        She pushed open a door. “Well not all of us are bad. Anyways, this is where you will be staying.” 

        I glanced in the room. It had a small bed and a chair in it. It was maybe twice the size of the bed. Some clothes were stacked on the chair, and boots were next to it. 

       She glanced at my outfit. “I suggest putting on something more covering, but it’s your choice. At least put the boots on though.”

         I walked into the room looking at the clothes, jeans a t-shirt and a jacket, as well as underwear, a bra, and socks. I slipped off my pants and replaced them with the jeans, slipping on the socks and boots. 

        I glanced at Ira who had averted her eyes. “I would prefer not to wear a shirt. I’m not used to it.”

       She shook her head laughing. “Okay, no shame I guess. Just don’t get complained when things poke you.” She gestured to the hall. “Come on, horses to train, stalls to clean, and water and food to be filled.”

         I nodded following her.

         She walked quickly down the hall. “I’ve already giving morning rations and filled water buckets this morning, so for now we just have to train. Well take care of the stalls with the night feeding.” She turned into a tack room, grabbing halters. “Have you ever ridden Wolf?”

          I shook my head. “No.”

        She tossed a halter at me, which I caught. “Well, time to learn.”

         She exited the barn and started down a path that led to a large pasture. “First step: catching the horse. You want to be slow and not spook them. These horses are not regular horses and are much faster than either of us. Approach slowly from the side to not spook them. I want you to catch the bay mare, that’s a female with a brown body and black man.”

       I nodded. “Okay.”

         “Just slip the halter over her head. Princess is a good girl and shouldn’t give you trouble.” She instructed. 

          I spotted the bay mare across the paddock. And began walking towards her, when I got closer I slowed and approached from the side. Sure enough, as Ira said, the mare did not move. I grabbed the halter and slid it over her head buckling the strap behind her ears. I grabbed the lead rope and led her to where Ira was waiting at the gate with a black gelding. When Ira opened the gate, the gelding shot out and I was impressed by the strength she used to rein him back in. Nervously I copied her actions and led the mare out the gate, but princess just obediently followed, a stark contrast to the black gelding who was still tugging at the lead rope. 

         Ira held firm on the lead rope and waited until he came to a standstill before patting his neck and starting to walk again. We walked back to the barn and led the horses into the hall where Ira grabbed ropes from the walls and clipped them to the geldings halter. 

       She pointed to the hall on the other side of the door. “Do the same thing with princess over there.”

       I nodded and copied her actions. She then guided me through putting the tack on and leading princess out to the arena. She then carefully taught me how to get on and ride. She left me with the warning to be careful before taking the geldin to a fenced off ring and working with him. 

        It felt so strange to be mounted upon a horse. Princess responded to my commands easily, but I was too nervous to go faster than a walk. Ira has promised to teach me more over the following months. Both how to train and how to ride, so that I could be more help. 

         As the sun set, I found myself back in the barn mucking out stalls while Ira gave the food. When we were finally done, I sighed gratefully and began heading back to my room.

          “Where are you going?” Ira asked. 

         “Uh, to my room?”

          Ira laughed. “Come on Silly. You need to get food first. You did good work today.”

        I turned and followed back out of the barn, passing several horses who stared at us curiously. “Why are some horses outside, and others in stalls?” I wondered out loud, not expecting a response. 

         “Oh, that’s because the ones in stalls need to be fresh in case the Royal or her men need horses quickly. They are our war horses. The ones outside are for training.” Ira answered.

        “Thanks.”

These Batboys gotta chill

Hi guys! This imagine was requested and I overestimated how fast I can type. So it may seem a little crappier than the other Batboy imagines. It is basically the batboys being protective of they S/O . I hope you guys enjoy and be sure to send in some requests!

Bruce: This guy is OVER protective of you. I’m talking, personal chauffeurs, body guards (when he isn’t around) and a tracer on you at all times. He has to be like this because he is a very wealthy business man who gets targeted all the time. You don’t love all this extra security and you can’t get a minute to yourself. But you appreciate it. There was a time you got “attacked” by somebody who was in love with Bruce, I mean who wouldn’t be? When he heard what happened he made sure they were apprehended and he hired a whole new security team.

“Bruce, it’s fine. You don’t have to press charges.”

“No. I won’t have this conversation. You could of gotten hurt or worse.”

“Babe, leave it”

“I’m not going to. I can’t live with myself if anything happens to you”

Whenever you guys are together he does not have to worry because he knows he can protect you because he’s Batman! However one thing that he does have to worry about is all the people trying to hit on you. Because damn.. you always be looking like a snack. Cue his resting “i’m going to kill you if you don’t back off” face. He’ll usually give you exactly 30 seconds to handle it by yourself. Usually that will make the offender back off but on the rare occasion it doesn’t, expect him to be extra touchy with you. It’ll start off with a arm around your waist and then him holding you against him. This will finally get the guy or girl to back off.

For example:

Some dude or dudette: “Hey there, I saw you looking at me across the bar and you are really sexy”

You: “Umm. Im sorry but I think you might have got the wrong impr-“

Some dude or dudette: “Whatever, can I get your number?”

Bruce: “I don’t think you let her/him finish. They were about to tell you to get out of here” *signature bat glare*

Some dude or dudette: “Oh um.. yeah bye.”

You: “I could of handled it, you don’t have to butt in to every-mmrgh” he cuts you off by planting a very passionate kiss on your lips.

Apart from his overprotectiveness this dude is pretty chill and I think he would let you have your freedom but still have you under a watchful eye.

Dick: Bro… he goes 0 to 100 real quick. He may seem all sunshine and unicorns but he has a dark side that is usually uncovered when he needs to protect you. For starters he hates it if you go out alone because you could get mugged, after all this is Gotham. This happened a couple of times but you do have a great right hook, so bye bye bad guys. You may have come home with cuts and bruises, he immediately started babying you and swearing revenge in whatever dick wads did this to you. He gave you a taser gun so you could get whatever shit you needed done faster. Even after teaching you self defense and equipping you with some weapons he still follows you from the top of the buildings during patrol.

The first time this happened you wanted to have fun with him so you sarcastically stated “Oh my god help! I’m being stalked by a spandex clad idiot”. He started laughing and dropped down in front of you. “Hey! I may be in spandex, but I am no idiot” he stated offendedly. Chuckling he pulled you into an embrace and gave you a kiss on your forehead. It was a cute and cuddly moment but got interrupted by a buzz from his comms. “I gotta go angel” he says into your hair. Sigh. “Okay, go kick ass my spandex clad idiot”. He scoffs and disappears into the night.

When you guys are out in pubs he always makes sure that you are next to him. His hand never leaves your waist throughout the night. But as usual some drunk dude comes around asking for your number. Dick won’t even allow you to say one word because he will already be giving threats to this dude.

“Ay ma lemme get that number!”

“Back off before I shove my foot up your ass”

“Jeez, chill. Yo girl you better restrain your man”

You usually have to hold him back from starting a fight with anyone who even glances your way.   (now all I can think about is him aggressively dancing and giving murderous looks to whoever looks at you… I’m dead) Sure, it’s cute but it gets annoying after some time because he never let’s loose afterwards however his love for you kinda cancels things out.

Jason: He’s a pretty chill dude when it comes to people hitting on you because he knows you can handle it pretty well. However he doesn’t tolerate it if anybody gets physical, for example if anybody touches you inappropriately and you are visibly uncomfortable. When it ever come to it he will stalk up towards whomever it may be and give them hell. First he will shoot them murderous looks from beside you or he will push them back and start a fight with them. Once it got so bad that the other guy ended up with a black eye and broken nose. Jason didn’t allow you to go out alone (at night) anywhere after that.

“Back off, they are clearly uncomfortable”

“Dude, chill they ain’t saying nothing”

“Get off of them before I punch you right in the nose”

And the rest is history.

Whenever he comes back from a long patrol and is exhausted he will be sure to collapse right on top of you and smother you with love just to make sure your alive because of the tragic things he see and experiences out there. His favorite position is with you sitting down and his head resting on your chest with your legs spread apart. This is because he can clearly hear you heart beating. There is no need to communicate, you guys are so in sync now that you know exactly how one another is feeling and what they need. (kinda like sims.. hehe)

Sometimes he has horrible nightmares with you becoming a victim to Jokers games. He always wakes up in a cold sweat and a beating heart, but when he realizes your steady breathing next to him he immediately becomes relaxed.

Since his job as Red Hood include making a lot of enemies and some may know his identity because he used to be “Arkham Knight”, he equips you with guns and knives. You have learnt a bunch of self defense techniques with his help and could pretty much become a vigilante. But he would never let that happen, you’re too precious.

Tim: When it comes to people hitting on you he wouldn’t even remotely know how to handle it. He’s such a cinnamon bun that he would let you handle it. Only if you ever really needed help and looked really uncomfortable will he become quite aggressive. Once you guys were at Bruce’s gala and a guy wouldn’t stop stalking you and you couldn’t really go anywhere without him needing to start a conversation with you. So Timmy boy came over and gave this guy a piece of his mind. After that outburst he immediately looked at you wondering if he handled the situation appropriately, but considering the guests expression it was a no. Honestly who the fuck cares because he took you both home for a comfortable night with Netflix and popcorn.

“Tim, thanks for that save back at the gala”

“No problem (Y/N), I will always be there to protect you”

*cue your cuddle session or make out session you preference*

Just like his brothers he make sure to teach you some fighting techniques and deck you out with some gear. He would always ask you to keep a tracer with you because he doesn’t wasn’t to ever lose you. He isn’t crazy overprotective like his dad but he still keeps a close eye on you. He makes sure that you get your freedom and free time but usually he becomes sad without his ball of energy near him all the time. But he always keeps your needs as priority numero uno.

“Babe, Im going out with my friends”

“Really? Now? Make sure to keep the tracer in you purse, don’t drink to much and take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything”

“Okay, mom”

“Seriously (Y/N), I need you to be safe”

“I will, I’m not the one who puts their life in dangerous every single night. Love you”

Damian: He’s just like his old pops when it comes to being protective. But he is so much more  stricter. He has a certain set of rules that he expects you to follow. This includes don’t go out late at night, carry a weapon at all times, make sure you inform him where you are at all the time, blah blah blah. Do you follow them all the time… hell no. Gosh you would go absolutely insane.

His reaction: He gets mad… whats new? You make it up to him and he becomes better. But he won’t let it pass if you brought it upon yourself. Like once you were mad at Damian and you went to a friends party at the club. You tried to make him jealous by grinding upon some poor innocent soul. First he locked eyes with you and gave you a warning. You ignored him and let things escalate, he walked over and that person almost shit their pants because Damian whispered some pretty scary things to them.

“Damian, I’m sorry.”

“(Y/N), you can’t expect me to forgive you. You completely betrayed my trust and did something that almost made me kill someone.”

“Look, how can I make it up to you. I will do any-“

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you are always safe”

Ugh he can be so infuriating and smart that it annoys you. But you can see the truth to what he is saying so you start following what he says as long as you can still have your freedom. Whenever he has nightmares about you, he usually wakes you up so he can talk about it with someone. Sometimes he may even break down crying and that’s totally fine but it’s so heartbreaking because he loves you so much and will do legit anything to protect you.

Tags: 

@oachi

Aurix update

There won’t be one of these for a while, since our schedules ain’t workin’ out until next month, buuuut:

Last time: Ronin wanted to get some Thieves’ Tools, and Aurix brought him to some shady-ass Drow gang to hook him up. He didn’t really wanna pay 50g for a set of tools, so instead offered to do A Favour. They asked him to get rid of an elf who was a High Priest of Savras; he agreed. Aurix asked him if 50g was a price he was okay with paying for blood on his hands, and promised to back him up in however he approached this job.

THIS TIME: Aurix made some very excellent use of her new spell, Flock of Familiars, in scouting out the Temple of Savras. We not only found out the high priests would be meeting tonight (one of which was our assassination target) so everyone could see them vote on a change in tenets, but we spotted a young girl that may be the child who was taken away by the temple. (I’m a little fuzzy on what THAT’S about, since it’s a plotline that was going on before I joined the campaign.) 

Von (the bard) polymorphed Ronin (the samurai) into a spider, Aurix tucked him into her hood, and one Mask of Many Faces disguise later, we sneak into the temple for that big meeting. We see the girl is being kept behind a High Priest by the name of Shadowstone, who’s got a fancy tattoo on his arm marking him as a member of the dwarven shady-ass mafia. Ronin also picks up that our assassination target glances at Shadowstone with utter fear before voting the same way that he does. It’s pretty clear that Shadowstone is the dude behind the sketchy business, and it’s equally clear that the drow gang who Ronin promised to Do An Assassinate for probably picked this dude because he’s obviously in Shadowstone’s pocket. 

The Polymorph is getting close to running out, so disguised-as-a-random-Savras-cleric Aurix tries to scootch out of the meeting all “bathroom break s’cuse me.” She manages to deceive all the high priests except one, ducks out, and hides away in an empty room so Ronin can be a half-orc again and not a spider. Knowing their cover may be blown, Ronin tries to suggest pulling out and coming back with the rest of the party. Aurix is wary, knowing that much of the party won’t be super on board with “murder a church guy” or really cut out for Stealth, and fearing that the suspicions they raised may lead to tighter security. She suggests instead that they do a “to hide a tree, use a forest” approach and try to slip in with all the leaving clerics when the meeting ends, and maybe try to follow their mark that way. 

No luck seeing him among the people who go by, though, so Ronin figures that we should just cut our losses and leave. He gets caught on the way out, though, and we get taken to talk to the High Priestess who wasn’t fooled by Aurix’s “lol brb bathroom” bit. She talks about Shadowstone’s shadiness, a bit about our mark’s past, and how he’s one of Shadowstone’s many puppets. Aurix suggests that they, as ardent adherents to the tenets of Savras and not this skewed version Shadowstone is trying to push, try talking to the mark in private. Somehow, this works, and the priestess arranges for them to talk. 

At this point, Aurix is READY THE FUCK TO HIT. Hexblade’s Curse, poised to strike, waiting for Ronin to give the signal. He talks to this drow High Priest a bit. The guy doesn’t really know anything useful at all about Shadowstone, but he quickly realizes that we were sent by the drow gang to kill him, and starts sobbing and weeping. At this point, Ronin does a 180, and completely changes his mind about killing the dude. He kinda does a “well now you know that this gang wants to kill you, so we’ll just see what fate decides” kind of thing and asks how he can help and stuff. Aurix is like shooting him Looks and trying to mouth stuff like “DUDE WE NEED TO GET INTO THE UNDERDARK ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DOUBLE CROSS THE DROW MAFIA,” but she takes her oaths pretty seriously, so she doesn’t really want to run this clown through in front of Ronin after she promised “I’ll have your back, however you wanna get the job done.” 

She knows that the High Priestess of Savras has seen his face and heard his voice, and she also knows that he openly admitted where he’s from, so she’s just thinking, like, “well shit, I gotta protect this poor naive idiot or he’ll absolutely get arrested and/or silenced.” She tells him “okay, go leave back to the inn, don’t hide it, just let people witness you exiting the temple.” Once Ronin clears off, she talks with the mark, convinces him “look, these people will just send someone who’s actually willing to assassinate you once they realize this failed, you have to flee, I can help you disappear so well neither Shadowstone nor drow can find you.” With some very lucky smooth-talking, she convinces him to tell some of the Savras clerics he’s heading out for a walk to clear his head (thereby proving he was still alive after Ronin left), and she takes him out to one of the city gates. 

Now, at this point, her full intention was “get somewhere with no witnesses, run him through, dump him in a ditch.” She did NOT want to backstab the drow criminal syndicate for a lot of reasons. 

They also knew Ronin’s face and voice, meaning they could easily come for him and/or the party he was with.

Aurix had been prepared all along for “I can do an assassination for you” to result in actually doing the assassination, so she was pretty braced for “this is a priest, he probably won’t go HELL YEAH KILL ME I’M EVIL AS SHIT,” so she wasn’t all that moved by tears at all

also Aurix is a True Neutral lizardfolk only really concerned with keeping her oaths and surviving, so risking the necks of herself and her friends for no better reason than “this total stranger did a real sad cry” is just not really something she’s wired to understand 

Aurix is a fuckign criminal with an evil sword that thirsts for blood. She’s been in shadyville so long that she’s probably pretty numb to shedding the blood of sapient beings, especially ones that are cronies in some Real Fucky Business

they definitely did still need to get to the Underdark, and the only really accessible entrance is in this exact city, so thumbing your nose at the drow seems REALLY unwise

It didn’t actually work out that way though. The mark passed out a little outside the gates, an elf standing guard there was all “HEY WHAT ARE YOU DOING.” Aurix tries the “hhha ha ha he’s just drunk I’m taking him home,” but the dude just automatically knows that’s horseshit. I’m thinking “jesus christ this unexpected morality moment is going to get my character arrested and/or killed,” so I try to cast Hold Person. Automatic fail (I guess elves resist paralysis or WIS saving throws?). I’m like. [SCREAMS INTERNALLY] and just..... try to bribe the guy to forget he saw anything 

I think the DM feels sorry for me and my utterly screwed character lmao, because the elf kinda just goes “actually for this much gold I’ll just handle making sure this guy gets to the next town over lol” at which point I go “COOL THANKS IF ANYONE ASKS YOU SAW NOTHING” and just fuckign. peace out. So I ended up losing a chunk of change on this, but like.... at least Aurix didn’t Perish

So the whole party reconvenes at the inn, and Ronin has already spilled most of what they were up to. The group moves up to one of their rooms for Privacy and Aurix is... not entirely happy.... about the way things went. She’s pissed that he sprung a last-second backdown on her with no warning and put her into a situation where she had to break an oath to these dudes, that they’ve made enemies of both sides of a gang war, that she had to go through a bunch of money and trouble to clean this up, and that there’s now a loose end running wild on his way to the next town over. The vanishing of a high priest is very quickly noticed, despite the “just going for a walk” thing, and the alarm is raised across the city. We decide “hey this would be a REALLY GOOD TIME to skip town.” We wait until the next day, when Corrin (half-dragon ranger/sorc) can pick up her new +2 spell focus, Aurix picks up the Entire Live Cow she ordered, and we skip town to go back to the ancient dragon’s lair and see how much of the hoard the kobolds have dug up. 

Aurix comes barreling in all “MY SWEET LITTLE LIZARDY BABIES I BROUGHT YOU A BEEF.” Kobolds are very pleased to get an entire delicious cow, and present us with A SHITLOAD OF STUFF. 11K gold tossed into our portable hole, along with 36 more magic items (most of them are scrolls). We explain that we’re gonna be away for a while and that the kobolds really should stay away from hassling the nearby city because AURIX NEEDS HER BABIES TO BE OKAY LMAO. 

With our ducks all in a row, Von (bardy boi) does a Teleportation Circle, and we all blip back to Breedonne to hand in our dragonscales to (and get our magic items Identified by) the wizardy dude who we’re doing this Main Quest stuff for. We retire to an inn to discuss our next move. We’ll still need more dragonscales probably, but it took us a lot to find this white dragon, so we’re not all that sure how easily we’ll even be able to locate another dragon to hunt. Sticking to getting mindflayer helmets from the Underdark seems like the better move, but considering the only really accessible entrance is the one in the city we just messed with the drow in, we’re kinda unsure how well that will go. We figure that we’ll maybe just, like... spend a bit here in Breedonne preparing and researching and getting materials for our Underdark adventure, and hopefully by the time we’re ready to come back, the heat will have died down a little bit. On that decision, we end for the night, and we’ll pick back up sometime in March!

Stridercest Week, Day 3: Meet/Cute! [Guardiancest, Mafia AU]

Written for B! :)

Bro meets David at an underground poker game.

It's romantic, in the old-fashioned sense of the word -- dashing, classicly heroic -- when David bursts through the door and grabs one of the players by the back of his jacket. He yanks the 18-year-old kid out of his seat, away from the fleecing he was about to get at the hands of Bro's compatriots, and rounds on the rest of the room with a glare so fierce that Bro's sure a piece of his own soul -- what was left -- was just incinerated under the magnified pinpoint sunlight of David's displeasure.

"You ought to be ashamed," David snaps, and his Transition lenses are so old-man on his young thirties face that Bro has to fight not to smile.

Who the hell is this oblivious nerd?

"Break it up, all of you. Go home!"

There are men in this room, and one woman. All of them over 18, most of them over 27. They're not children, but David doesn't seem to notice that. He does notice Bro, however, lounging at the back of the room in an incredibly out-of-place leather armchair, two guards leaning against the wall nearby. One of them has a hand in his black jacket, but Bro waves, a staying gesture.

David squints, glowers again, and hauls the poor little rich boy out of the room, issuing more threats about parents and expulsion.

It's goddamn adorable.

So maybe they didn't meet, exactly, since Bro didn't get to say word one, but first impressions are, as they say, the strongest, and it isn't long before Bro has the Zahak brothers do a little research for him. Who was that masked man? Where does he live? Who are his parents, what's his income, and do they have his social security number, because that'll give Bro the really good dirt.

adly, there's little dirt to be found, besides his pathetic profile on Tindr that declares he's bisexual -- or maybe it's a happy lack of dirt, because something about David makes Bro want to try a little. Put in a small dollop of effort. Dress up, find the dweeb, and turn on the charm. It seems incredibly easy, like slaying a dragon with a nuclear bomb, but Bro can't get that indignant, scolding look out of his mind. He wants to see it again, face-to-face.

He has the Zahaks do some careful recon work, and within the week Bro knows David's favorite coffee place, his favorite donut place, his favorite Indian food place, and his favorite place for Mexican. The man does. Not. Cook. It's horrendous that someone that brave and dumb and self-righteous doesn't know his way around a frying pan. Even Bro can make tamales or cannolis when the need strikes.

It's all right for now, though. Time for a little swooping in, saving the day, just like David seems to enjoy.

One late afternoon when David is on his way to the Mexican restaurant for some take-away, a meal his arteries are probably gonna regret if he keeps up his regular order, which Bro is sure he will, Bro sets one of his young, nimble-fingered kids into action. Burritos with everything can't be good for anyone on a weekly basis, and Bro is going to solve this tiny health problem with a combination of slick thinking and city charm.

For today's outing, Bro is dressed in a black jacket and slacks, a white shirt with pinstripes so faint you have to be right on top of him to notice their gray striations, shining faintly, polished Italian loafers, but no socks. No tie. He's Mr Casual, Mr Everyday Joe. Nothing to see here except ordinary human perfection, don't stare, please, it makes everyone uncomfortable. He waits on the corner, watching the action unfold with the mirrors on the wings of his pointed sunglasses. Fagan ain't got nothin' on Bro when he's testin' his kiddos.

David is about ten feet out the door when wham -- the kid slams into him. The burrito hits the ground, the kid's foot smashes the goods -- and while David is dazed, the kid lifts his wallet. No money, no lunch, and when the kid takes off running at a pace Bambi would envy, no one to blame.

Bro can't suppress his smile this time. Good thing he's facing the other way.

He doesn't waste his window, though. He spins around and is at David's elbow before the man can finish pushing his nerd-alert glasses back into place, the low groan of dismay only just starting in the back of David's throat as he realizes his meal is sidewalk mash.

The vocalization only cements Bro's resolve, no pun intended. He speaks up, hands in his pockets to keep from seeming like a threat. "Hey, that sucks. You okay? Kids today, am I right?"

"Yeah, I -- man, my burrito! I didn't even see that guy, he just appeared out of --" David finally looks up from the burrito remains, the paper bag wet with sauce, the smell of peppers and grilled meats wafting up tantalizingly, a final salute to its now-wasted tastiness. He looks up, and his mouth falls open.

It was dark in the back of the church they were using for the poker game. There's no way David recognizes him. But even if he does, that's okay. Just means Bro has to shift gears, come in with the back-up plan, the one that involves a little more strong-arm and a little less wine-and-dine --

"... shit, you're hot," David blurts out.

Bro is about four inches taller, and now his smile really won't stay put. "Thanks. You ain't bad yourself."

"I mean -- I mean, uh, I'm -- I do movies. Direct movies. Not do them -- I'm a director. I just mean that -- that was a compliment. For film. You know, because --"

"-- because movies," Bro finishes along with him. Goddamn, this guy really is fucking innocent.

"Yeah," David agrees, finally managing to get his gaping under control. He tugs his shirt into place, brushes a hand down the front of the soft cotton, spreading folds thin enough that Bro can see David's trim physique beneath the loose fabric. "Anyway. I'm fine, thanks. Nice of you to ask -- wait. Aw fuck, cmon, no." He drops a hand to the back pockets of his dark, old jeans, then to his front pockets, then the back ones again.

Bro's enjoying watching David pat himself down, especially running his questing hands over those slim hips, but he spares David another moment of public agony by asking, as if he didn't know, "Somethin' wrong?"

"My wallet!" David moans, and wow, Bro makes a promise to himself that if he gets David alone someday, he's gonna try to get that exact sound back, just as long and languorous as it was, but with Bro's name instead of the billfold's. "The little shit got my wallet! Aw, fuck."

The word is coarse, and surprising for some reason. David exudes charming suburban class, despite his claim as a worldly movie maker, and Bro didn't expect any epithets that would routinely be banned from classrooms. Admittedly, that'd be a rule for younger students, but Bro's golden eyebrows raise all the same. "Damn, that's messed up. Can you call and cancel your cards?"

"Yeah, I can do it on my app. He didn't grab my phone, probably 'cause it's just a Moto." Unhappy, and probably hungry, David pulls his phone out and opens his banking app.

Now that's a little too trusting. Bro puts out a hand and covers the screen, his Rolex flashing gold in the late sunlight. "Hey, don't do that out here. Tell you what, since you lost your dinner, let me take you somewhere. You can cancel your stuff there, and get some food so you don't starve while they mail you more plastic and make you wait four days for the privilege."

If David knows what kind of watch it is, or what kind of jacket and slacks (Tom Ford) or what kind of shoes, he doesn't give it away in the slightest. He just pulls a sad face as his stomach growls like some kind of anime protag. "I can't -- okay, you didn't hear that. "

Bro shrugs. "Sounded hungry to me."

David actually blushes the slightest bit. "I can get food at the commons, really. Thanks, though. You're -- it's nice of you."

"I know a great Mexican place. Burritos like seven-tier cakes. Fattest things you ever saw, and cheap beer to boot. Nothin' tastes better with good Mexican than shit beer."

That's not entirely true, but if David's teaching at a uni, it's about what he's used to. The man's stomach growls again, and David glances around, as though afraid someone might be offended that he's accepting burrito offers from a stranger. "... you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure. All us hot people are sure."

David makes a face, the blush vanishing. "Uh huh. And where's this amazing Mexican place at?"

Bro names a couple of streets, and watches as David fights some internal battle that Bro long ago gave up on, or relinquished his right to even take part in. There's very little conscience where Bro's concerned; just legality, and which side of the law it benefits him to be on at any given time.

This time, he wants to be on the right side. For this guy. For now.

"... yeah, all right." David finally gives in, slightly suspicious, except for the thunderous snarling coming from his belly. "Sorry, it's just -- thanks. I appreciate it. It's seriously kind of you, very cool. If everyone was as decent as you are, we'd live in a very different place."(edited)

Amen to that, Bro thinks. He nods toward the corner. "It's this way. C'mon, ain't a far walk. Just a few blocks."

David nods his blond head, the lenses of his glasses slowly lightening up as the sun sets. They're still dark, but Bro can see the outlines of his eyes through them -- and over them, since he's so much taller. He can see the part in David's hair, the couple of rare strands that seem more silver than blonde, and he wonders how David's scalp would feel beneath Bro's lips. How firm David's waist will be, how warm his hungry stomach.

The last makes him laugh, and when David asks what's so funny, Bro has to make something up. It works, though, and David falls into step beside him, not even noticing the Zahaks drifting along in their boss' wake. Watching. Ready.

I’d Slap That

Written for @jhoomwrites and based on her prompt of this hockey!au FYI it got long.

“Did you see that?” Dean growls out to Benny as he skates over to him, “That dick purposely bumped his shoulder into me.”

“Yeah brother, I saw.” Benny says as they both glare at ‘Novak’, a member of the opposing hockey team.

Novak has been getting on Dean’s nerve since the beginning of the game, where he had managed to score his team a point, right away.

*

Castiel skates over to Michael.

“What’s up with Winchester? Why does he keep glaring at you?”

“I don’t know, probably mad that we got the first point.” Castiel says.

Michael smirks, “Yeah, it seems fun riling him up, cute piece of ass too.”

Castiel’s eyes drop down to Winchester’s ass, “Hmm, can’t argue with you there.” He says, scratching through his playoff beard, which at the moment was longer than stubble and shorter than beard.

*

They continue with the game and Winchester and Novak cross paths many times until Dean snaps.

“Hey! Novak! What the hell is your problem?” He yells out.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Winchester.” Castiel retorts back.

“Dean. Winchester is my dad.” Dean growls out. “Now what the hell is your problem?” He asks again.

“Still don’t know what the hell you are talking about.” Castiel snarls back.

“Really? Cause you’re being a pain in my ass since the start of the game.” Dean growls out.

“Why, because I’m better than you?” Castiel asks.

“You think you’re better than me?” Dean asks. “Drop your gloves. I’ll show you who’s better.”

Castiel instantly drops his glove, not one to back down.

Dean follows and then they’re in each other’s face.

Dean swings at Castiel, punching him in the face.

Castiel swings back and then they’re at it. Somewhere through the fighting Castiel’s helmet goes flying and his bottom lip is busted open.

They manage to keep their balance long enough to get some punches in and then Dean misses his footing and slips on the ice. He grabs Castiel’s jersey, dragging him down on top of himself. He groans as his head smacks painfully against his helmet. He has the wind knocked out of him when Castiel lands on him.

That’s when they hear the referee’s whistle blowing.

“Alright, break it up you two.” He says.

Castiel pushes himself up onto his hands and that’s when they both realize it. They’re both hard.

Dean looks up at Castiel through his lashes and smirks.

“Maybe we can see who’s better in a different way.” Dean says, cockily.

Castiel looks down at him and just licks his lip, licking the blood away.

Dean eyes trails Castiel’s tongue.

Castiel just grinds his hips against Dean’s erection as he gets up.

Dean gasps as a shot of pleasure goes down his spine.

He leans down, “Castiel, you’ll need my name when I’ll have you screaming it later.”

Dean feels his dick twitch. He grabs Castiel’s outstretched hand and pulls himself up.

“We’ll see who’s making who scream.” Dean mouths back.

They gather their items and skate off the rink since they were now sitting out for the rest of the game for the stunt they pulled.

Castiel uses his tongue to remove his mouth guard and spits out the blood in his mouth. Dean watches him and feels his dick twitch again.

Damn, that should not be as hot as it is.

*

They were both on the edges of their seats as they watch their teams play.

“C’mon, dammit!”

They’re both swearing and yelling at their teams. Both were their own team’s leaders and it was an advantage and a disadvantage to have them sitting out.

In the end, it’s Dean’s team who wins and he was gloating. He shows it in the way he smiles cockily at Castiel, licking his lip and enticing Castiel to do something.

Castiel holds back and waits until after their teams had decided to all go out for drinks together in ‘good faith’ since they were most probably going to be playing each other again, soon. It’ll probably end in a bar fight and Castiel does not want to be a part of that, especially when he could be doing other things with his time.

He sneaks his way through the security members and other people who were still there, and into Dean’s team’s changing area.

Dean was still there and had just finished showering, wearing only a jockstrap.

Yeah, he still wore a jockstrap, sue him, you could never have too much protection down there; it also showed off his nice ass.

Castiel sneaks up behind him while scanning the changing room for any other person. There was no one there so he grabs Dean from behind and pulls him to his chest, grinding his dick against Dean’s bare ass.

Dean yelps and attempts to turn in the arms holding him.

He catches a glimpse of Cas from the side and relaxes, slightly, in his arms.

“What the hell are you doing, Castiel?” Dean asks.

“What do you think?” Cas asks, leaning over and lightly biting Dean’s neck.

Dean couldn’t help but jerk his hips, eyes closing. His neck was a sensitive area along with his nipples.

He lets out a soft moan and turns around completely in Castiel’s arms, trying to focus.

“Guess it turns out I was better than you.”

“You weren’t even playing and I thought we were deciding this another way?”

“You really want to?” Dean asks, glancing into Castiel’s very blue eyes.

“Oh, I really do.” Cas says, tightening his grip on Dean’s hips and leaning closer.

Dean winds his hand around Castiel’s neck and yanks him closer, slamming his lips into Cas’.

Cas lets out a growl and kisses back just as hard, ignoring his busted lip.

Dean pushes Castiel with his body and he slams in the lockers behind him. Dean’s body following closely, lips still locked.

Castiel bites at Dean’s lips causing him to gasp and Castiel takes the chance and slips his tongue into Dean’s mouth.

Dean moans into the kiss and tilts his head for a better angle. He rubs his erection against Castiel’s and they let out twin moans.

Castiel pulls back, grabs at Dean’s waist, turning his so his back was facing Castiel’s again and slams him into the lockers on the opposite sides.

Dean groans at the impact. Castiel comes up behind him and sinks to his knees.

“You clean?” He asks.

“Yes.” Dean pants out.

“So am I.” Is all Castiel says before going to town on Dean’s ass.

Dean nods and gasps, hips jerking as Castiel licks a wet hot strip up his ass. He was so glad he had just cleaned himself down there recently and had a shower or else this would have not been pleasant.

“Fuck… Cas!” Dean moans, eyes falling shut and head resting against the cool metal of the lockers.

He arches his back to give Castiel better access.

This was not how he planned this to go, but now all he wants is Castiel’s dick in his ass. He could still be ‘better’ while riding Castiel’s cock. In fact, he had an advantage. He was going to tease Castiel till he begged.

He reaches around and grabs Castiel’s hair in a fist, shoving his face harder into his ass.

“Yeah, just like that, eat my ass!” Dean groans out.

“Mhm, you like that?” Cas asks, slapping one of Dean’s ass cheeks and squeezing it.

Dean moans at the slap, jerking his hips.

“Shut it, keep going.” Dean gasps out.

Cas slaps his ass again in retaliation rubbing his stubble against Dean’s hole.

Dean reaches down and grabs his cock, rubbing it through the jockstrap.

Dean could feel the pressure building up and he was so close to coming in his jockstrap like a teenager.

He stood straight and kicked Castiel back lightly with his foot on his chest. Castiel let out a surprised grunt as was pushed away from Dean’s sweet hole and landed on his back, on the surprisingly clean floor.

Dean crawls over Castiel and sinks down into his lap. He grinds his ass along Castiel’s cock making him buck up into Dean.

Castiel’s eyes widen as Dean slithers down his body and yanks open his jeans.

He pulls out Castiel’s impressive length and he licks his lips.

“Damn Cas.” Dean leans down and licks the slit of Cas’ dick. Dean hums thoughtfully before taking as much of his dick down his throat.

Cas gasps and bucks up into the heat of Dean’s mouth.

“Shit. Yess.” Cas moans out.

Dean hums around his dick and sucks harder.

Castiel is panting and close to coming when Dean pulls off his cock with a loud ‘pop’, making him jerk and whine in displeasure.

“Shit, you got lube?” Dean asks, hoping he did or this was not going to be as fun as he imagined.

Cas takes a minute to realize what was being asked of him before he nods and lifts his leg to get at the wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. He opens it and tosses Dean a condom and a packet of lube.

Dean catches it and rips open the packet of lube and smears it on his fingers. He reaches around himself and gently pushes a finger in. He was still loose from his fingering last night so it was quick.

He moans as he pumps his fingers in and out of his hole. Castiel watches him with lust filled eyes, dropping down to watch Dean’s fingers.

He reaches up and grabs Dean by the neck, hauling him down to kiss him.

“Fuck you’re hot.” Castiel murmurs against his lips.

Dean moans as the unexpected change in position made him rub at his prostate.

“Yeah?” Dean asks.

Castiel nods.

“You want me to ride you’re cock?” Dean asks.

“Yes, c’mon, ride that dick.” Cas groans out as Dean takes his finger out of his own ass and wraps them around Castiel’s cock.

He jerks him until he is completely hard again.

Castiel’s poor dick was so hard that it could cut a diamond, purpling at the tip. Dean leans down and licks the precome off the tip before ripping open the condom packet with his teeth and rolling it on Cas.

Cas lets out a deep breath as Dean lines him up. He pushes the tip in and then let’s go of Castiel’s cock.

Cas was hard enough that Dean didn’t need to hold him to push it in.

Instead he takes Castiel’s arms from the wrists and pins them down.

He slowly sinks down a little bit, stops, and then lifts himself off again.

Castiel groans loudly, “Dean, c’mon, baby, please.”

Dean smirks down at him.

“Patience.” Was all Dean answers with.

Castiel growls low in his throat sending a shiver up Dean’s spine.

Dean leans over and presses his lips to Castiel’s who kisses back aggressively.

Dean moans into Castiel’s mouth and sinks down on Castiel’s dick, torturously slow.

Once he’s all the way down, he pauses.

Castiel groans impatiently.

“C’mon Dean. We don’t have all day.”

“I don’t know Cas, I kinda like having you at my mercy.” Dean says, rolling his hips and making Cas gasp.

Castiel growls and leans up to capture Dean’s lips again, rendering him speechless.

Dean starts moving on Castiel’s cock, slowly, trying to drive Castiel nuts. He was still pinning his arms to the floor and placing his knees on the floor beside his stomach, hooking his feet over Castiel’s thighs to stop him from bucking up.

“Dean!” Castiel growls out frustrated.

Dean takes pity on him and picks up his pace.

Dean releases Castiel’s hands and places his own on top of Castiel’s chest to give himself leverage.

He fucks himself harder on Castiel’s cock. Cas moves his hands to Dean’s waist and helps him move.

Dean stops bouncing when he feels his thighs get tired and instead grinds back and forth on Cas’ dick, causing Cas to throw his head back and dig his fingers into Dean’s flesh, no doubt leaving marks.

“Yes, Dean! Just like that baby. You like that?” Cas pants out.

“Ung, yeah!” Dean moans out in a breathless whisper.

“Yeah, make yourself feel good on my dick! Just like that.” Cas groans out, breathing heavy.

“Fuck!” Dean wails out as he grinds down harder.

Dean was so close. He just need that extra push. Cas seemingly reads his mind and sits up quickly. He locks his lips with Dean, pushing his tongue into his mouth. He grips Dean under the ass with one hand and uses the other to push himself up.

Dean gasps, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s neck and legs around his waist, as he’s lifted into the air.

Goddamn, Castiel was strong, and apparently still dressed, that need to change.

Cas manages to grab a towel and tosses it down on the bench before laying Dean down, with his dick still in him. He starts to move a brutal pace, grazing against his prostate at every thrust.

Dean moans whorishly loud and drags his fingers down Castiel’s back under his shirt, leaving angry red marks in their wake, trying to pull him closer.

Castiel latches onto Dean’s neck and Dean whimpers, throwing his head back and giving Castiel more room. Dean grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it up. Castiel pulls away for a brief second, ripping the shirt off and going back at Dean’s neck.

Cas drags one hand down Dean’s stomach, making him quiver, before he takes a hold of Dean’s cock and pulls it out of his jockstrap. Dean cries out in pleasure, jerking under Castiel. Castiel was pressing Dean down on the bench with his body, giving him the bare minimum to move.

Castiel pumps Dean’s cock a couple times before Dean is throwing his head back and howling in pleasure as he comes across their chests.

“Fuck, Dean. That’s so hot.” Castiel moans out, slowing down his pace as he works Dean through his orgasm.

“Don’t stop.” Dean moans out, voice wrecked. He uses he feet to get Castiel to keep moving.

Castiel gets the message and picks up his pace again. He could feel the sweat dripping down his back, getting soaked up by his boxers and jeans.

He feels his orgasm building and he pulls out and rips the condom off, jerking himself quickly, not caring how roughly he was treating his cock. Dean sees and grabs him at the base of his cock.

Castiel whines out in displeasure as he looks up to Dean’s face. His urge to come fading.

“Dean?”

Dean just sits up and pushes Castiel back. He stands up and turns Castiel around and pushes him down. He kneels between Castiel’s legs and takes Castiel’s cock into his mouth.

“Fuck!” Castiel groans loudly throwing his head back.

Dean swallows him down and works his mouth over Castiel.

Soon Castiel feels his urge to come building again.

“Dean! Shit, I’m going to come.” Cas yells out trying to warn him.

Dean sucks harder, rubbing his hands up and down Castiel’s clothed thighs.

“Fuck!” Castiel growls lowly as he comes down Dean’s throat.

Dean pulls off with a ‘pop’ and Castiel jerks at the oversensitivity.

Dean crawls over Castiel and settles onto his chest not caring of the mess between them.

“Holy fuck.” Dean whispers out.

Castiel just hums in agreement, running his hand through Dean’s hair.

Dean lifts his head, “I think you deserve the ‘better than you’ award.” He says.

“Nope I think we both deserve the ‘better than you’ award.” He says.

Dean chuckles.

“You know what we both deserve?” Dean says.

“What?” Castiel asks, lifting his head.

“A hot shower.” Dean says.

Castiel laughs and nods.

“I agree.”

They reluctantly stand up. Castiel zips himself up and grabs his shirt off the floor.

“My hotel has pretty good water pressure. Do you wanna come?” Dean asks, almost hesitantly.

“On one condition…” Cas says.

Dean raises an eyebrow, “What’s that?” He asks.

“That we can have a round two after it…” Cas says.

Dean’s eyes light up and he drags Castiel in for another kiss.

“Deal.” He whispers out against his lips.

Castiel smiles and they clean up quickly before rushing over to Dean’s hotel.

Before they knew it, two years later, they were both standing at the altar, hand in hand with all their teammates celebrating with them.

Also on AO3 here

Howl Until it Hurts: Chapter Thirty-One (a Rowdy 3 fic)

FFN II AO3

Summary: Mona visits with some interesting news.

Chapter Thrity-One: Ready

There had been something slightly off for days, but none of them could place it. It was like seeing something out of the corner of your eye, but turning to find nothing there. Martin's first thought had been that they'd tried to fit a camera or a listening device into the room, but a good power surge that took out all the lights one evening would have taken care of that if there had been any, yet the feeling remained. It was a tickle in the back of his mind that just kept returning with no real answer until one day the chair in the far corner of the room - the one that he'd assumed had always just been there - moved.

All three boys stopped, Martin tilting his head to the side and a low growl rumbled from his throat. He crouched down a little, ready to spring, and he heard Cross and Gripps ready themselves for a fight behind him. Whatever new craziness Blackwing was introducing into their tiny little world was about to get the beatdown of a lifetime.

He couldn't be sure if the laugh came before or after the chair morphed into a figure they'd come to know well enough, but logic would say after. Not that logic had a whole hell of a lot to do with anything there. Mona's giggles filled the room even as the Rowdy Three eased their stances, relief spreading through them. "You should see your faces!" she chirped, her strange eyes bright with mischief.

Gripps and Cross immediately shifted into excitement. "How long you been there?"

"Have you been a chair this whole time?"

"No, that chair's been there."

"Yeah, how long? When did the chair get here?"

"It's been there…"

Mona giggled again. "I like chairs. I was a chair for years once. Four legs are more comfortable than two."

"You been spyin' on us?" Martin asked, but he couldn't quite keep the edge in his voice. He knew the answer by this point.

Mona winked at him. "You're not as interesting as you'd like to think."

He snorted, reaching over to ruffle her hair and she pulled a pack of cigarettes from the bag she was carrying. "Forgiven?"

"Always," the blond Rowdy answered with a grin and took the offered gift.

"And I brought the ink for the other side of your head, Gripps," she told him, motioning to the half finished set they'd begun a few weeks before.

"You just been sittin' there with it?"

She shrugged. "Time gets away from me sometimes."

"You're gonna have them all tied up in knots over where you got to this time," Martin mused as he flicked the flint wheel on the zippo she'd given him some time before.

"Icing on the pancakes," she answered with a grin.

"Not sure that's how it goes."

"And you know better?"

He shrugged, inhaling deeply. This was how it went with her. She popped in and out. He thought there were probably times that he didn't even know she was there. She both seemed to crave social interaction and abhor it all at once, so she came and went as she pleased. She did tend to bring gifts, which was a plus.

Martin had settled down on the floor as his brothers looked over the ink, Cross trying to describe what he wanted tattooed across his hand and Gripps telling him he was owed his first. The two squabbled good naturedly and Martin leaned forward, his arms resting against bent knees and his eyes closed as he focused on their voices and the smoke curling from his nose as he loosed a satisfied breath.

He startled from his quiet moment as someone grabbed one of his limp hands. Blue eyes popped open to see Mona had taken a silent seat in front of him with her legs crossed and a needle in hand. She blinked innocently at him as he eyes her, her intentions cleared. "Looks like fun," she said simply and he shrugged, giving her the go ahead. Why not?

Mona dipped the needle into the ink that she had brought for them and started in, the needle pressing through the top layers of skin and leaving traces of ink behind. "I was a table recently," she said after a collection of minutes.

Martin tilted her head when she didn't continue. "Yeah?"

"For maybe…. I don't know how long, but it was in the their break room."

"Their what?"

"It's a room they have when they're not working." The needle nicked his wrist bone and Martin flinched a little. "Sorry." She shifted the it a little and he watched the needle leave strange symbols in his skin that he'd never seen before as she continued. "They talk a lot. Some things are boring and I don't listen, but sometimes it's interesting."

Martin peered over the top of his glasses at her. "Yeah? How so?"

She looked up for the first time since she had started, amusement dancing in her strange eyes. "Like security. Like times when guards change and blind spots."

"We know all those. They fixed 'em so we can't get out."

"Fixed some, but they can't fix them all."

Martin took a long drag off his cigarette. "Why're you tellin' me? Thought you thought the Universe had to agree with our escape or some shit?"

She shrugged a little. "If the Universe wants you free, you'll get out. If it doesn't, you won't."

"But you're willin' to give destiny a little shove, huh?"

She shrugged again, but the amusement hadn't faded. Martin's mind was spinning wildly, his gaze flickering to his brothers that were chattered obliviously, still arguing over who would get what tattoo. Mona could go anywhere, become anything. If she were willing to help, they might not have to worry about the repercussions of another failed escape attempt. They wouldn't be forced into any horrible tests or forced to watch the life leave some other poor soul's eyes. Martin shuddered at the memory. His time in Blackwing had left him numb to a lot, but that would always haunt him.

"This screws up 'n Priest'll go after the boys," he said lowly.

"Nothing's gained without a little risk," she mused.

"Didn't say I wasn't willing to risk, just that we gotta be careful. We stand out, you don't." His mind swirled with ideas, half formed, discarded, and another one would shove its way to the forefront. "You bring us stuff. Could you bring disguises?"

She blinked and tilted her head a little. "Sure. I can open your door too, but you would need to move from there. If the Universe-"

"Yeah yeah. If the Universe wants us out, we'll get out," he huffed. "This could work."

"And if it doesn't, I can finish your new tattoo," Mona said cheerfully, pulling his attention down to the small symbols that she'd left all up and down his wrist.

"What do they… mean?" he tried to ask, but she was gone. Or at least the girl was, replaced by a balloon floating up to the ceiling.

Martin watched her for a long moment, wondering if she was planning to stay or if she'd shift again and take a trip elsewhere. It could be that day or a month from then when they'd see her next, but he'd be ready. If it meant his and his brother's freedom, he'd be ready.