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thehistoriangirl · 20 days

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The Tides Have Veiled [Sixteen]

This is the end of the third part of this story! :D A new interlude will be posted soon :3 Hope you like it!

Viktor x Fem! Reader-----/Gothic AU/Haunted Sea/---1.8K----SFW*

> MASTERLIST <- Previous // Next ->

Synopsis: Piltover the Old has an old lighthouse that looms over an abandoned port. From the house in the wailing cliff’s edge, the lighthouse owner watches that the beacon is being lighten up each time darkness arrives, so that monsters wouldn't dare to crawl inland, or so legends say. Both buildings are haunted, maybe even the man himself, by both past and present ghosts. Surprisingly, the keeper’s work is beyond turning on the beacon every night— but the rest is on you to discover.

Chapter Summary: What does the sea want?

Taglist: @lunar-monster @local-mr-frog @bittercyder @blissfulip @ihopeinevergetsoberr @ultimateslasherfan

Sixteen: Desperate Offerings

They were wrong about the sea. Always bestowing it with human qualities this silent world doesn’t have.

Greed. Such a familiar inkling, as if humans were made to claim and take everything in their wake, yet only finding their stop once their bodies were suspended in water, lungs burning in agony. When the world they walked upon dipped into an endless abyss.

Many considered the sea greedy, and all-consuming. Its waves conquering the land and sweeping the terrestrial lives once reigning in the surface a more than considerable reason for such argument; waves being a limit humans could not surpass.

But you knew better.

It wasn’t greed—greed needed the desire to consume, to take, an inherent purpose of seeking. The sea was hungry, underwater beasts copying the nature of their master in existence and lurking, just… waiting.

It'll be all-consuming, yes, but not for a self-fulfilling search and hunt. Rather, it'd be everything left.

It was always what remained.

What would remain of you.

The freezing water bit your skin, descending your throat once you tried to scream the creeping fear out. But you couldn’t, not with the gargantuan figure suspended below you, its eyes each as big as your head. White sclera, black pupils seemingly floating in the ocean.

You were torn between surfacing, allowing your lungs mercy, and keeping your attention toward the eyes, where the currents pushed bubbles forward with unmistakable movement.

Where is Viktor? You observed the eyes, impassible, the only thing inside this dark and dead ocean surrounding you.

You resurfaced, waves lapping lazily at the toppled boat’s hull. Gone were the shiny algae contrasting neon blue against the black water, as if the lurking giant had devoured them all.

Perhaps it has taken him, too, the water hitting your ear muttered in cold, merciless succession.

To wade was useless once the waves hugged you down, anxious of having you, soaked clothes too heavy and constricted to keep you afloat.

And soon, it’ll be your turn.

The sensation of being observed loomed nearby, coming from under. You fell and floated, broken time down the water; the only living being suspended in this world built of death and salty tears.

Cold and slimy, long appendages swirled around ankles, hooks like needles prickling the numb skin of your legs. You couldn’t see it, but the eyes did see you. The eyes and its limbs pulled you down, down, down.

Suddenly, you were that kid your uncles would tell you about. Following that shiny fish until their body was surrounded by water. The monster would grab their legs with whetted hooks, slicing the tender flesh and tinting the blue waves pink until the water was dark enough that the body nor the blood could be seen anymore.

Hungry. Always hungry.

Go upwards, don’t stop looking down, you thought, aching legs kicking the ever-present water in a fleeting attempt to break into the surface. The eyes gazed back at your desperate attempt, stoic, enjoying the struggle of your mortal, terrestrial body trying to survive in this alien world.

An unfamiliar world, and yet… under all the vast expanse of darkness, the water bubbled, illuminated with familiar glimpses. How the murmur of the sea crashing ashore filled the eerie silence inside the cramped bedroom; soft hums only a loving mother could mimic. The rocking motion of the waves soothing your mind, and body already exhausted after a productive overnight fishing trip aboard your grandfather's boat.

The ocean had always been there where everything else faded.

You shouldn’t be afraid. The bodiless voice said, floating as you sink. What a twisted irony as much as it was to finally see the clear night sky just right before falling into a bottomless inkwell. Don’t fear it. Just let go.

No.

You couldn't submit to the ocean's will—at least not until you've found Viktor.

At this stage of your life, it was pointless to pledge ignorance regarding the sea’s wishes. The pull that left you petrified, obliged to gaze at the raging storms hitting the coast during autumn. All the tears cried and were taken by the waves while the bodies morphed into nothing but sea foam.

It wanted you. Perhaps all your kin; but for now, it’ll be satiated once you found your everlasting rest on the seabed; feast for scavengers, a refuge of bones while it lasted.

The cold air hit you once you surfaced, lungs burning, panting in desperate attempts to inhale as much oxygen as possible. Your oppressed chest is heavy and about to burst.

The appendages of the being slid swiftly up your ankles in a loose grasp. Barely tugging. Barely… nudging. Guiding.

Over the black waters laid the defeated boat, its hull covered with barnacles, making the surface rough and uneven under your fingertips, like another body deformed and desecrated by the sea.

You wanted this to be a nightmare, to succumb to the waves and wake up on the lighthouse’s old couch, warm and still haunted, but with him.

“Viktor!” You called, voice strained, either by the cold or the piling tears.

Because now you were alone and cold and scared in this inky, abysmal world that was starving for an offering more satiating than those left by the cliffside—vivid memories of despair and the loss of an unknown loss, a void as deep as the ocean itself.

There was no answer except for the waves moving, whispering in their ancient language, running like flicking hopes through your fingers with each wade and kick. And yet, it was only a matter of time before your body tired out, for when you’d had to relent control and float aimlessly like algae in, once again, hope the sea would carry you home.

If it even knew where it was, because you weren’t sure yourself.

The appendages loosened the grasp, untangling like an untying ribbon with barely the sensation of friction of those hooks prickling your legs.

You stopped kicking, this twisted support abandoning you, too.

You floated, eyes closed to hear what the sea wanted to tell you. What it wished you to do.

Black sea; navy sky. It was you and the boat, the crippling cold burrowing inside your bones, claiming shivers from your lips already.

You wondered who would take you first, if cold or sea.

As if answering, the swaying waves started covering your body in the biggest, darkest dress ever conceived. First ankles, slowly creeping its way through thighs and torso. Soft sways, like a dance, an intimate embrace. You raised your view to the sky one last time, ears filled with the waves’ language until your head got covered by it, too.

Without the panic building chaos inside your mind, you stayed still and waited. Hearing the echo of this world, each whisper of water current like a whisper of running wind. All black, but not empty.

Not anymore.

The creature was still there, water bubbling and displacing when it swam toward you, both suspended and both gazing, even if all you could see were its gigantic eyes fixated on you.

You shouldn’t be afraid.

Drowning was deemed for you as a terrible form of dying; just the thought of this unwelcomed element conquering its way through those channels on your body that weren't meant for water. But you've heard stories.

How the water calmed you once oxygen had run out, how mermaids seduced before lounging. How the ocean kept swallowing you without you even noticing you were moving.

Don’t fear it.

This. Was this the same your mother felt? The oppression on your chest settled into a mere ghost, blurry vision clearer than ever, seeing dozens of forms lurking nearby to watch your demise.

Perhaps this destiny had been written of the sand, perhaps you’d been too distracted in nimieties to catch it before the tide swept the shoreline.

Just let go.

You looked down at your witnesses; at the tall giant that gazed at you still. Chin high and rigid hands balled in fists.

Let him go. And take me instead.

He may be your cursed husband as much as you were his cursed wife—his end may be on land, inside the lonely walls of the grey house by the cliff.

You opened your mouth in the primal reflex of gathering air. Fire entered your veins, tears mixed in with the salty seawater, finally arriving down your being, and filtering through bloodstream, flesh, and bones.

If the ocean had always been home and shelter, prison, and origin; did it matter that you end here? Like this? If the sea was so jealous of letting you go, what better end than this?

Away from the perpetual rain and the ever-present mist, of hunting ghosts and failed families.

With the sea you could be free.

Black waters broke into an eerie, dreamy world of vivid navy and mossy green. You were enveloped by the waves, but you could now understand their words as they tangled around you, pulling down while suspended in time. The echo of deformed ripples ran through your ears, eyes locked with those of the creature.

A blood-red squid so big you couldn’t take in its whole size, tentacles sinking deeper into the abyss where the darkness and the sand blocked visibility.

The knowledge bestowed you with courage, extending one of your hands toward the magnificent being, only to find them morphed. Unfamiliar.

They were the hands of a monster.

They’re all ghosts, the squid seemed to tell you, but it could’ve been the sea itself, the disembodied voice coming from everywhere. Just as the silhouettes came from everywhere, slowly rising toward you. Just like me. Just like you.

Where once was all but water, you saw bodies, all of them bloated and deformed, barely human, and yet, you knew that only a human spirit could be stubborn, vengeful enough to force themselves to remain. Even here, where they would never belong.

The squid looked at you, almost pitifully.

We’re all but ghosts.

There was no time to fear nor react once they grasped you. Their icky touch, slimy and soft, too soft, swarmed you. An entire graveyard claiming another victim.

That sensation of oppression on your chest returned. That human instinct to survive.

I won’t be one of them. You gazed at them, empty sockets still locked into your face, as if somehow, they could recognize you like the one the sea longed for. Not yet.

You had to see Viktor again. Even if it was only to say goodbye. You needed to know if the sea could fulfill its pact.

Consciousness started slipping off your grasp, vision darkening at the edges like a damaged photograph, drenched in water that had made the coloring run off in amorph shadows, creating faceless people and erased backgrounds.

Then, you heard the voices—low hums, haunting chants.

The sea shifted once the mermaids came, yet you only could catch a glimpse of blue and green tails and grey skin. You wanted them to sing you a lullaby before your lungs gave up.

Then you were claimed by the sea.

#arcane viktor x reader #viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane viktor x you #viktor fanfic #arcane fanfic #arcane viktor #viktor arcane

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erdarielthewhumper · 1 year

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Waiting for a rescue

Hi!! Finally got around to writing a lil something for my scifi boys Anthony and Elias again! This one's a bit more environmental whump -ish, so no violence, just otherwise making them have a bad day :D

Written for @whumpers-monthly's December prompt, which is "Frozen" - I hope y'all are okay with hypothermia in general, without actual ice having to be involved? I just got an idea and ran with it, I hope it still fits the prompt!

***

"I got a reply", Anthony said, staring at his console, voice tight. "A ship called Louhetar. A friend, I've ran across her before. Says it'll be anywhere from 72 to 96 hours, but they're on their way."

Elias frowned and beckoned him over. Anthony came, and looked over Elias' shoulder at the meter he pointed at.

"We've got 59 hours of energy left. Systems will go offline then. We won't last 72 hours, much less 96."

"Seal the cargo hold. Confine life support systems to cockpit and living cabin only."

Elias did so. It was a shame about some of the goods in the hold, but none of what they carried was worth their lives. None of the things that would spoil without air or warmth, anyway. They both studied the meters silently.

"65", said Elias, faster at doing the math. "Not good enough."

"Buckle your seatbelt", Anthony replied, returning to his seat and doing the same. "I'll turn the gravity off."

Again the flipping of a switch, another few seconds of silence.

"72 hours. Earliest time Louhetar might arrive at."

Anthony sighed. "I don't trust those odds. I can't think of anything else to turn offline, there's nothing else left but life supports."

Elias pulled up the battered binder of papers that held the Starlady's technical records. He flipped through them for a while, then, finding his page, took a pencil and scribbled for a while on a spare scrap of paper.

"The Lady has thick heat shields", he said at last. "Good old-fashioned physical heat shielding, all around the hull, and thick as anything."

"Which means...?"

"Heat doesn't leech out of the ship as fast, either. It'll leech some, but not all of it immediately. If I turn the heating off now, and we leave only the air recycling and emergency beacon on, we could stretch the energy reserves to last 80 hours, give or take. 83 at best. I think the Lady's heat shielding would keep the warmth in long enough. After that 80 hours, though, I'll say it's even odds if we freeze or suffocate first."

"We do still have those EVA suits", Anthony pointed out. "If they work, anyway. They have independent oxygen and heating, even if it's limited. We suit up at the 80 hour mark, I'll give us another nine to twelve hours."

It was settled. Elias put the commands in. Nothing more to do but wait, now. They left their seats in the cockpit and pulled themselves quietly over to the living cabin, and settled down to do exactly that. Elias picked up his guitar and played for a while, though the lack of gravity made it a little awkward. Anthony chose a book at random and began to read.

---

24 hours in. There hadn't been any noticeable change in temperature as far as Anthony had noticed. No new message from Louhetar or any other ship.

They were eating, now, a simple meal tossed together of whatever they had that required neither cooking to be edible nor gravity to be possible to handle. They had a stash of emergency rations made exactly to those specificatons, and Anthony always made sure to keep that stash filled up, in case of emergencies. The rations tasted like plastic, but they kept well and didn't take up much space, and it was better than going hungry.

The next few hours went quietly. Anthony continued reading his book, Elias just sat and stared at a wall. The silence wasn't uncomfortable; if you weren't comfortable spending hours and days with hardly a word exchanged between you and anyone else, you weren't fit to be a spacer at all. Deep space had a way of stealing the words from a man's lips at time, and it was by no means the first time they'd simply sat together unspeaking for a long time.

---

By the 48 hour mark, they were both feeling the cold. It was not unbearable yet, but it was slowly seeping in and slithering into the cabin.

Elias had taken the blanket off his bed and fastened it like a cloak around his throat with a safety pin, but with the gravity turned off, it floated around him and he had to pull it constantly closer to himself.

Wordlessly, knowing his damned Earthborn's pride kept him from asking for what he needed, Anthony pulled Elias close to himself and wrapped an arm around him, pressing against his side to keep them both warm.

---

At 65 hours, it was painfully clear to both of them that Elias had been wrong. They weren't going to make it to 72 hours, much less 80, like this. Anthony hadn't said a word of blame, but Elias could feel him shivering. He cursed himself. This was not the kind of circumstance where he could afford making mistakes. And yet he had made one. A big one.

"Think it might be time to try if those suits still work?" he asked.

Anthony nodded. "We might as well."

The EVA suits were old, like the Lady itself and most of the gear they had onboard. They were bulky and clumsy, and Anthony and Elias had to help each other suit up. But - thank all the gods - they both did work, warming units slowly waking up to make the temperature within the suits bearable.

Elias dozed off almost as soon as he felt warm again.

---

The batteries on Anthony's suit ran out at 73 hours. The ones on the suit Elias had lasted until 76.

There had been no word from Louhetar since the initial response to their emergency signal.

Elias felt cold all the way to the bone and marrow. Anthony's lips had turned blue. He wasn't even shivering anymore, and seemed to be half-asleep when Elias grabbed his arm.

"Do you think we'll become ghosts?" he asked.

"Maybe", Anthony replied slowly. His speech was slurred, but his lips twitched into a faint grin. "Im'gine that. Us 'nd the Lady, 'nd the et'rn'l black sea."

"Roaming the spaceways, haunting ships, seeking their warmth", Elias continued.

"S'dd'nly a ship goes c'ld, 'n they'll call it the Lady's touch."

Elias let out a hysterical laugh. "Imagine the scare we'll give them. Young spacers will fear us for centuries."

"Old ones'll just grumble. Tell 's we c'n share the warmth but we sh'ldn't steal it."

The communicator in the cockpit beeped. Elias went to see the message; Louhetar was an hour away. They could last another hour, couldn't they? They had to.

Anthony nodded when Elias told him the news, but he said nothing, and seemed barely able to keep his eyes open. Elias pulled him close, gathered him in his arms, despite knowing it would do nothing to ward off the cold anymore. Anthony didn't resist, but then, he never seemed to do. He never seemed to think something given without asking would be a debt to be paid back, and with him, with him only, Elias had learned to accept it, learned to take unasked-for help from Anthony as something freely given, with no strings attached, and so he gave back in the same manner, helped even without Anthony having to ask.

Minutes ticked slowly by. Anthony was totally unresponsive now. That was strange. Surely he shouldn't have been cold anymore? Elias felt so warm, now, almost hot, really, and if the EVA suit hadn't been so clumsy and difficult to take off, he'd have gotten rid of it already, it was so warm.

He was tired, too. And Louhetar was on its way. Surely it would be fine if he slept a little? There was some little part in the back of his head that seemed to think it wasn't a good idea, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out why it wouldn't be. Surely just a short nap would be fine...

#whump #my writing #my ocs #anthony #elias #scifi whump #environmental whump #hypothermia #whump fic #whump oc #whumpers monthly #issue no 11

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gaycey-sketchit · 1 year

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(Gary anon) Project Mew felt more like the equivalent of getting 8 badges to qualify for a time-limited League conference; something you don't necessarily need a rival for to do. {They could provide influence, but it stops there} Unlike say, placing first in a race where there is visible competition, there are clear, definite winners and losers, and direct motivation to do better the next time should you obtain a low rank. Only one mission had that aspect, but both were in different locations.

(Part 2) (It's cool, from the looks of it, I think some are just hanging out until we get a trailer of what's next for the anime/Ash) Felt like his only big moment in this finale unfortunately. It just reaffirm for me that he was tossed in mainly as an attention beacon for this plotline. As cool as it was to see some of his old traits back and made some new achievements, if this was the final payoff for all that work, I think I rather he wasn't here at all.

(Part 3) Still could be Goh's reason for joining and help him [and Ash] along the way, but doing his usual own thing like before. (Still better than his DP sendoff, but somehow it hits the same thing for different reasons) Anyway, watched the subs: Yup, still nothing, just more clarity. Gary tells Goh to send his regards to Ash. Oh, the three didn't decline the offer to remain Chasers, rather they would all give it some thought.

(Part 4) With that, we might know the source of conflict for the next episode since Goh wants to set off on a different journey. (As much as it makes sense conceptually, I would only want Goh joining the crew. As I mentioned months ago, this felt like a temporary bout for Gary. {Regardless of my feelings on the ending} And Tokio seems like someone who wants to meet more potential friends in different places) But yeah, no word on JN's last episode yet.

Yeah.

I'm curious to see that too! I really want to know what the future holds for Pokeani and Ash. Hopefully something less divisive than Journeys, I'm so tired. I want the Pokeani fandom to be fun again.

At least there was that. I'm just profoundly relieved he didn't get DP151'd again, like, at least he got to do something useful.

Yeah :/ Unfortunately, while Project Mew was better than some of the other options (definitely better than PWC fodder, RIP Alain) Journeys had too many difficulties production-wise to live up to its potential on... just about any front. Much as I wish things could've been different, could've been planned out better, what's done is done.

Goh seems the most likely to take up the offer, yeah, and I guess making that decision is going to be part of the next episode's plot! Man, it's going to hurt to see Ash and Goh part though. I don't think I've ever cared so much about the relationship between Ash and one of his companions, they're so good together (and I keep thinking about that post that was going around a while back about how queer-coded their relationship is). PokeShipping was baby's first OTP but even that is dwarfed by how much I love what Ash and Goh have going on.

But anyway! I guess we'll get word on how it'll end soon enough.

#Andrew answers #Gary anon

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rhodeybugg · 3 years

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THERE’LL BE NO REST THERE’LL BE NO LOVE THERE’LL BE NO HERO IN THE END WHO WILL RISE ABOVE IM SCAAAAAAAAAARED

#Can we postpone tomorrow?#im still recovering from last episode ;-;#im scared #Rwby volume 8 #rwby spoilers #rwby v 8 #It'll be just like beacon again! :D #NOOOO

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moistmailman · 5 years

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The War

Yang: Hey, I'm sorry but it's true, Rubes.

Ruby, pouting: No, its not! I'm not that socially awkward! You're over exaggerating!

Yang, laughing: I am not! You're the poster child for awkwardness! Just admit it!

Ruby: *Stubbornly crosses her arms and pouts*

Yang: Awww, don't be like that. Wipe that frown off your face. So you aren't good with social interactions. Big deal. Not everyone can be like me.

Ruby: What's that supposed to mean?

Yang: I'm great at socializing. I have what some people call a silver tongue. Hell, I don't even need my charm to make people do things. My looks alone could do the work for me.

Ruby, crossing her arms: Oh please. You're over exaggerating again.

Yang: Am not. I could easily talk anyone to do anything for me, and all I need to do is some harmless flirting! Remember when I made that kid do my homework back at signal? I didn't have to do any homework for an entire month because of my silver tongue. Meanwhile you sometimes get tongue tied when ordering a pizza. So.....yeah, you're as socially awkward as they come.

Ruby, blushing embarrassingly: Why I otta! S-shut up! I could do something like that too!

Yang, ruffling Ruby's hair: Oh of course you can, my sweet naive Ruby.

Ruby, angrily swatting at her hand: I-Im serious! I could do something like that! I'm charming! I'm adorably cute! People love that!

Yang: Yeah, they do. But I'm drop dead gorgeous, which guys find much more attractive, and you also can't forget about my way with words. So sorry Ruby, but you lost this conversation.

Ruby: That's not true! I-I bet i could fine someone who prefers me over you!

Yang: Look Ruby, don't start a war that you can't win. Trust me. Let's just drop this.

Ruby: Why?! You're scared or something? I bet I could fine someone very attractive that prefers my charms over yours. If I can beat you then it'll prove that I'm not that socially awkward!

Yang, playfully sarcastical: Hmm hmm, whatever you say. Tell you what, come back to me when you successfully flirt with the most attractive person at Beacon or something. But until then........*boops Ruby's nose* Socially awkward. Bye now. *Walks away*

Ruby, cutely stomping her foot while pouting: Stupid Yang. What does she know? I'm not that socially awkward. I could easily flirt with someone if I wanted to.

*Suddenly Pyrrha walks by*

Ruby:.........hmm, most attractive person at Beacon, huh?

*2 days later, outside on a cold winter day*

Pyrrha, walking up: Hey Ruby.

Ruby, shivering: H-hey, Pyrrha.

Pyrrha: Cold weather, huh?

Ruby, blowing hot air into one of her hands: Yep, I can hardly feel my hands right now. Dummy me over here lost my gloves, so now my hands feel like popsicles. Silly me, right?

Pyrrha: Oh dear, I'm so sorry to hear that. *Reaches into her jacket* Here, I have a spare pair of gloves that you can use. Here, take them.

Ruby: That's very sweet of you, but unfortunately your hands are larger than mine. So those are useless to me.

Pyrrha: Oh right, sorry. I didn't think about that.

Ruby: Hey, it's okay.

Pyrrha: I just wish I could help.

Ruby, blushing: Well...uh...there's a day that you could help me actually.

Pyrrha: Really? How?

Ruby, awkwardly twirling her hair: Y-you c-could uh......you could always uh......h-hold m-my hands.

Pyrrha, slightly blushing: Eh?

Ruby, blushing: H-hold my h-hands, you know, f-for warmth. S-since body heat c-creates....well, heat and a-all.

Pyrrha: O-oh uh.......well....

Ruby: Y-you dont have to if you dont want to, though.

Pyrrha: N-no, it's alright. I just wasn't expecting that. I don't mind holding your hands.

Ruby: R-really?

Pyrrha: Y-yeah. If it means helping a friend, then I would love to. Here, just let me take off my gloves. *Takes off her gloves* Okay. Here, take my hand.

Ruby, swallowing her nervousness: R-right. On it, friendo. *Awkwardly chuckles before taking Pyrrha's hands*

Pyrrha: So uh.....are your hands getting warm?

Ruby, blushing: Y-yep! It's sure is. T-thanks.

Ruby, internally: Okay Ruby, you two are currently holding hands, so you're currently doing better than you anticipated. Now it's time to flirt.

Ruby, blushing while looking Pyrrha directly in the eye: U-h y-your hands are very soft by the way. I-I like it. You can tell that you take good care of your skin. *Rubs Pyrrha's hands with her thumbs* I'm actually jealous. It's completely flawless, but that's not surprising at all.

Pyrrha, blushing: Oh thanks Ruby. That's very sweet of you.

Ruby, also blushing: A-and you know what I just realized?

Pyrrha: What?

Ruby: M-my hands fits perfectly into yours. I mean, It doesn't feel unnatural or weird whatsoever. In fact, it almost feels natural to me. As if I was meant to do this.

Pyrrha, blushing more: O-oh, you think that? Well I must admit, holding your hand doesn't feel uncomfortable to me either.

Ruby: You got that right.

*5 awkward seconds passed*

Ruby, internally: Okay, you got this. Time to seal the deal! D-dont mess this up. You've been training in the mirror for the past two days. Just do it like how Yang does it!

Ruby, batting her eye lashes flirtatiously: You know Pyr, your hands are very warm. I love holding them. It's intoxicating actually. We should do this more often.

Pyrrha, now fully blushing: R-really? You think t-that? O-o-oh, you're being t-too kind, Ruby. *Awkwardly swallows* I-Is it getting warm out here? C-cause I swear it got hotter.

Ruby, who feels as if she was in a sauna by how hot her own blush was: Nope.

Pyrrha, fanning herself before grabbing Ruby's hand again: Must be me then.

Ruby, internally: YEEEEESSSSSS! IM DOING IT! IM DOING THE FLIRT! IM ACTUALLY DOING THE FLIRT WITH PYRRHA! HA! TAKE THAT YANG! IM UNSTOPPABLE! I DONT CARE HOW SWEATY MY HAND IS RIGHT NOW! THIS IS A WIN FOR ME!

*Meanwhile*

Yang, walking outside: Oh come Blakey, just let me copy your homework.

Blake: No, Yang. I always let you copy my homework and you never learn because of it. So no more.

Yang: Oh don't be like that. Help a friend ou- what the?

Blake: What?

Yang, pointing: Over there. Is that.......Ruby and Pyrrha holding hands?

Blake: Huh?

*Blake looks over at the direction that Yang was pointing at to see Ruby holding hands with blushing Pyrrha*

Blake: Hmm, it appears so. Do your think they're dating or something?

Yang: No clue. Damn, I honestly can't believe that my socially awkward baby sister is holding hands with Pyrrha Nik-

*Suddenly Ruby glances over at Yang and perks up before getting her composure back and starts to smirk and wink at her cockily*

Yang, wide eyed: My god.

Blake: What?

Yang: I....I didn't expect her to actually take my words to heart. She actually did it......or did she? Are they even dating? No......no no no no there's no way they're dating right now........so that means the most attractive person at Beacon is still single.

Blake: What are you-

Yang, chuckling: Does she think she won? Oh hell no. I haven't even started yet. You started a war, Ruby. You better prepare yourself, baby sister because I'm not one to back down so easily.

#rwby #pyrrha nikos #ruby rose #pyrruby #milk and cereal rwby #greek fire rwby #yang xiao long #blake bellodona #thus starts pyrrha's harem #Rwby The War AU

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