#And kind of finally drew his wings digitally! Ah!

[sysig]

Ohh I would love to request a redraw of one of your strangels sketches ♥♥♥ if it's not too much trouble hehe, thanks!

Day 19 - The privilege ✨

[nessamaurice]

Simple, Ch. 9 (Loki x F!Reader)

Masterlist

Summary: Tony and the Avengers are in desperate need of something like a “babysitter” to have an eye on Loki and teach him “how to human”. He decided to stay on Midgard over the dungeons of Asgard as punishment for his deeds in New York. That’s where you swoop in. A simple receptionist at the Avengers compound. You have to share an apartment in the compound with Loki and damn, he’s a really tough nut. With your open and kind character it seems that you are slowly cracking his shell. But suddenly things are getting twists that will change your life and your relationships there irreversibly.

Story rating: M

Chapter trigger warnings: torture, humiliation, human experiments, captivity, harming, suicidal thoughts, murder/death

Words: 3971

9

It's been a week now since you disappeared. Tony had found several bugs placed in his system that surveyed everything happening in the lab. It turned out most of them didn't work properly so they were useless but one did its job, a simple digital wiretap that recorded everything that was said. That was how they found out about you. Tony cursed and kicked stuff through his lab, angry with himself that this happened. Everyone was just exhausted, haven't slept properly and totally at their limits. They had to rest, otherwise their bodies would force them to. So they agreed on shifts to supervise the program Tony installed to search JARVIS for the virus that kept your bracelet from working. Unfortunately Loki was not common with the earth technology and was clearly not in the state of mind to learn it now properly, so he could do nothing, and it was killing him. All he felt was guilt and anger. He could have stopped you from leaving. He wanted to. But he didn’t. Why? Because of his damn pride. Once again in his life, his decisions led to pure tragedy, not only for himself but for so many more people. Again. And again. AND AGAIN.

Angrily he threw knives at the dummy at the gym. After hittng the same spot over and over again the knives clattered to the floor because there was no space for them to dig into the puppet. He got more and more furious as he stepped towards the dummy, keeping on throwing knives until he stood right in front of it. He started screaming and ripped the dummy in two with his telekinetic powers. He looked above and watched the stuffing slowly falling down on him like snow. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. Touching his neck he realized he was sweating. He never sweat on earth before? Turning around on his heels, he snapped his fingers to make his knives disappear back into his pocket dimension and went to his your rooms to get a shower, ignoring the mess behind him. He tried to distract himself with reading books but that didn't work at all. It was day seven now and after some heavy training he came out of his shower, slipped into his simple brown cloth trousers and green linen tunic, he stared out of the window. The silence was pressing down hard on him and he looked over to your winged chair. Your headphones were laying on it, just where you left them. He grabbed them, put them on and ordered, "JARVIS, play me Y/N's favorite music on this device of her." He closed his eyes, listening to your most loved songs, his wet hair soaking up the fabric on his back, thinking of you.

***

You didn't know how many days had passed, it was just you being awake and falling asleep. But you got four meals in your cell so you assumed it were four days. Together with the time you were forced in that lab chair you guessed it could be about one week now. It was so hard for you to bear the silence. You hated it, so you were playing music in your head, all the songs you knew the lyrics of. You startled as your door opened. Fieberbrunn was standing in the door, looking down at you.

"I think we can continue." His face was blank. He turned around and ordered, "Los, bringt sie wieder ins Labor. Aber achtet mir darauf, dass ihr ihre Wunden nicht zu sehr aufreißt, das wäre nur Energieverschwendung."

You wrapped the linen blanket tightly around your body like a towel as the guard stepped in. He grabbed you by your hair and pushed you along the corridors back to the lab. The sight of the chair let your heart rate rise. You tried to protest but the guard's grip was too tight and he just pushed you forwards. You were forced into the chair again, leather shackles closing around your wrists, ankles and a broad strap over your arms and chest. Fieberbrunn sat down in front of you and while he pierced you with several needles and stuck a bunch of electrodes onto you again. Ripping your blanket down to your hips to connect you with the monitors he explained, "We will make some tests now to prove if my father was right with his suspicions. The questions will not be about something you know, so you can't give wrong answers. The only wrong answer is not answering at all, and for that you have to get punished. Do you understand?"

Reluctantly you nodded. When he was done and turned on all the monitors, he turned around and looked at you. His gaze was empty, almost bored.

"Look at me. How do you think do I feel right now?"

"Bored. You don't really want to be here. But still, you are here for something you hope to find."

"Ah. Fine. Perceptive." He tapped something on one of the monitors. A little tingling shot through the electrodes on the shaved parts of your head.

"Wh- what are you doing?"

"You don't ask questions, you answer them. You are not allowed to speak unless you are asked a question." He didn't bother to look at you while he set up those rules. Studying the monitors he seemed to be pleased with what he saw. He turned one of your hands around in the shackles, palm upwards and laid his palm onto it. Instinctively you wanted to pull away but couldn't, so you were forced to touch his cold, sweaty hand.

"Now, tell me again, how do I feel. And don't answer right away. Concentrate, then answer." He said with the same bored voice and the same blank face.

You stared at him, but what you felt didn't suit to what you saw. Confused you said, "You... you are full of... anticipation. Curiosity. Hope, that your father was right. That you could fulfill his heritage. That you would have made him proud. And hatred, towards the Soldier. You want him dead, but you had to accept you are not in charge of such decisions. And... you are lucky that you aren't. You don't want the responsibility for all that's happening round here-"

His eyed widened and he retreated his hand in shock, pressing it to his chest.

You must have looked as shocked as he. "Why- why do I know this? How? Is it true? What is wrong with me?! What are you doing to me???"

Usually you should get punished for asking questions but Fieberbrunn was so in awe, he didn't realize the violation of his rules.

"Mein Gott, es ist wahr. Er hatte recht! Die ganze Zeit lang hatte er recht! Ich muss das sofort melden!" he exclaimed.

"What? What are you saying? What's going on here?!" Your questions were answered with silence. Fieberbrunn rushed over to grab the phone on the desk. He was speaking something in German, totally excited like a child. You stared down at your hands as if they would start to glow or sparkle any second. How did you know that? Does that come from the electrodes? What kind of tricks is he playing on you? Fieberbrunn hang up and came back. He run several tests with you for hours. You had to touch his hand, the hands of random lab persons. He regulated the electrodes and varied the stimuli to watch the differences in the outcome. You got the headache of your lifetime. As he recognized you getting too exhausted, he sent you back into your cell. He said he could only work on you properly if you were rested. The guard tore you down the corridors by your hair again, not bothering that you stumbled over the blood stained blanket, you had to leave it behind. In your cell were a glass of that thick liquid and a protein bar waiting for you. In that moment you realized that you haven't felt hungry or thirsty since your last 'meal'. You cowered down on your makeshift 'bed', trying to hide your nudity and chewed on that rubbery bar as you heard music playing. You looked around to maybe find the source, but didn't see anything. It took you a while to get that you heard the music in your head. It was like you were listening to your favorite songs, you didn't consciously think of each song and concentrated on it, they just played along in your mind. And there was something else. ...Someone else. You closed your eyes to concentrate on that certain feeling. Your breath went slow and deep.

"Y/N??"

You audibly gasped as you suddenly saw Loki standing directly in front of you, wearing your headphones. You totally forgot that you were completely naked as you stood up and stepped closer to him.

"No, don't touch me, this is just an illusion. If you try, the illusion will fade again." He looked all over you, brows furrowed and his eyes full of concern. "By the Allfathers, what have they done to you?"

You immediately hid your private parts and looked away, full of shame and agony.

"Y/N, listen, do you know where you are?"

Without looking at him you answered, "No, I woke up in a factory hall, naked and blinded by some kind of injection. They said it was meant to stay for one hour but I was unconscious for three. There was a giant iron machine connected to a conveyor. This building is full of corridors, cells and laboratories. I... they gave me a drug that opened my mind to my memories." Your voice almost died in the swallowed tears. "Tell... please tell my uncle... Uncle Tones... that I love him. Still. And always." Your voice finally broke into crying.

"Keep calm, my dear. We will find you and bring you home. Come on, beautiful lady, look at me." His soft words encouraged you to look at his worried face. "We will bring you home, to us. You are not alone."

You sobbed at his gentle promises. "Loki... Thank you. I-" you moved towards him and touched the illusion while you where speaking and the image of him disappeared in a shiny green glow. You came down to your knees, crying badly. You put your arms tightly around yourself since there was no one who could do that for you. As the tears slowly ebbed away and became more quiet again, you could still hear your beloved music. It made you smile and cry at the same time. Seeing his face again ignited your hope. You drew knew strength and said a thank you prayer. Just in this moment your door was opened and your guard took hold on your hair again, bringing you back to the lab. As you were strapped in that awful chair again, Fieberbrunn entered the lab.

"It looks like we don't have time to let you rest naturally. This will help." He held up a syringe with a cloudy blue liquid. Since you had no vascular access already he pushed the needle right into your arm. The cold injection run up your veins, letting them shine dark through your skin. It felt like an intoxication, all your senses wide awake. The light was suddenly so bright and every sound so loud.

"This time we will see what you can do to others." Fieberbrunn explained as he put a simple wooden chair in front of you. The clattering and screeching sounded like a whole battlefield in your ears. A guard brought another prisoner into the lab. He was in chains and overly confused. It was a man, around 50, looking totally devastated. As he realized that a young naked woman sat right in front of him, a dirty smile tugged on his lips. You felt so disgusted you just wanted to punch everyone in the face. Fieberbrunn stood beside you and turned your hand around again, palm upwards. He ordered the guard to place the prisoner's hand on yours. You wanted to pull away again, being disabled by the shackles. "Now," Fieberbrunn said to you, "make him cry."

Confused you looked at Fieberbrunn and back to the man in front of you. His eyes constantly wandering over your body. You felt his arousal and it made you sick.

"Go on. Concentrate on a feeling that makes you sad and send those feelings to him." Fieberbrunn instructed.

And you tried. You tried really hard. But no sad feelings were found inside you, just disgust. You loathed him so much it made your insides twist. Suddenly the expression in his face changed. His gazing stopped and he looked you straight in the eyes now. He wanted to pull his hand away but the guard didn't let him. He pressed his sweaty, rough hand onto yours. Slowly he started to mirror you. It looked like he started to feel extremely uncomfortable in his skin. Then he turned pale within seconds. He leant to the side and threw up on the floor.

"Well, not exactly what I ordered but it that's fine as well for the first time." Fieberbrunn said with a pleased tone. A small nod towards the guard and the prisoner was dragged away again. But he didn't stop to stare at you all the way long, in complete shock. Then, a little girl was pushed into the lab. "Komm her. Setz dich hier auf diesen Stuhl und nimm die Hand dieser Frau." Fieberbrunn commanded and the girl came over, sat down on the chair and took your hand. She looked in your face and you didn't need to touch her to feel her anxiety. "And now, make her cry. And I said CRY. Do what I told you or you get punished."

You stared at the girl for some seconds before you reacted, obviously too long. Fieberbrunn grabbed your face and slid a scalpel across your jawbone downwards. You and the girl simultaneously screamed. Shocked you looked at the girl that was covering the same spot on her face with her hand and then looked at it, as if she expected to see blood.

"Make her cry."

You concentrated and closed your eyes. You could never want to make a child cry. So you thought of something else. You on the shoulders of your uncle, running through the garden in the low sunlight of a late summer evening. As you opened your eyes again the face of the little girl was decorated with the most beautiful smile, pure happiness. You only heard Fieberbrunn sigh next to you, and before you could look at him he pressed your head into the high backrest. He placed his scalpel on your collarbone, pressed it hard into your flesh. You felt it scraping on the bone as you and the girl screamed and cried.

"See? That is crying."

This game went on for hours. New human lab rats, new commands. Every time you did not exactly what you were told you were either slapped or cut. At some point even Fieberbrunn started to get tired. He ordered a little break between the next prisoners. He rubbed his eyes and rolled a bit away in his office chair to pour himself a coffee.

This moment you saw something in your peripheral. Carefully you turned your wrist around and saw the soft green glow of the gem in your bracelet.

***

Just the second after Loki's connection got lost he rushed down to the lab. He flung the door open and told the startled Tony and Bruce what just had happened. He repeated the description you gave him and they began searching for buildings fitting the parameters. He grabbed Tony by his arm to stop him and added, "Tony, she knows who you are. They made her remember."

Tony turned paper pale within 2 seconds.

"She didn't assumed I'd know it, too. She just said I should tell her uncle, Uncle Tones, she'd still loves him. And always will."

Tony took hold on Loki's shoulder as he fought against the tears. Regaining countenance he just managed to mutter "Thank you, Loki.", then he turned to get the search on. Meanwhile the others came down to the lab and searched a radius of one hour distance with any vehicle for a factory that suited. After hours they could limit the results to four factories. They formed four teams and rushed to the landing site. Natasha and Clint took each one of Tony's cars, Steve hopped on his motorcycle and Bruce, Tony and Loki took the Quinn Jet. After half an hour of heavy reticence a green dot appeared on the map on one of the screens, accompanied by a modest 'ping'. The sound ripped Tony immediately out of his thoughts. He nearly jumped at the screen, zooming the map in.

"Oh. My. God. We got her. WE GOT HER!!!" He screamed. Finally his program was able to delete the virus and your bracelet was activated again. You were in the factory where the Quinn Jet was already heading to. Immediately Loki and Bruce were at Tony's side, staring at the screen before their joy kicked in (for each in their own ways; Bruce was loudly cheering, Loki drew a deep breath and closed relieved his eyes as his lips formed a soft smile). Tony was already informing the other team members and they changed their route. Suddenly Tony was hit by a horrific brainwave.

"JARVIS, turn off the gem on the bracelet, NOW!", he screamed at the screens.

***

Your eyes began to fill up with tears as you saw your bracelet shimmering in that beautiful dark, warm green. You concentrated on not to spit out a relieve laugh and quickly looked over to Fieberbrunn to check if he saw something. Luckily he was studying a screen while he drank his coffee. You turned your wrist back again and hoped so badly that they would find you before someone noticed the sudden glowing. Just as you stopped moving Fieberbrunn turned around and came back to you. He put his mug down besides you and said, "Okay, for today we have one last test. It's an important one, fateful for both of you. Bringt sie rein!" he shouted over to the door.

Your eyes widened as you saw the guard pushing the Doc through the door, dirty and chained, with a bloody lip. Her expression was as shocked as yours.

You cleared your throat, "Is... isn't that the do-, uh, nurse that looked after me?" You tried to sound unknowing.

"Uh, yes, could be. We got several of them. She tried to wake up one of our cryostatic soldiers and has to get punished." The guard almost threw her onto the interrogation chair in front of you. She looked horrified. As Fieberbrunn turned away for just two seconds she mouthed 'I'm so sorry', but you didn't understand what she was apologizing for. He unchained her and paid attention to your hands now and you got thunderstruck.

"Warte, was... What is that?" He turned your wrist around and it felt like your heart would break through your ribcage any moment. But just in the second he turned your hand around to look at your bracelet the light got dimmer until it was gone completely. You didn't know what was worse; that he could have find out that this wasn't just some jewelry or that your little green spark of hope died right away after like three minutes. You felt your heart crumble inside your chest.

"Hm. I guess just some light reflection. Okay, let's get this done. Alright. Now, think of suicide."

You just stared at him. "I'm sorry, what?"

He looked you dead in the eye before he said, "I will let you get away with this one now. But I won't repeat myself again. I'm sure you know that feeling. Maybe thought of killing yourself in the last few days. I want you to conjure those feelings of pure and utter despair and project them on her. That is her punishment. And a final test of your skills. This task is not easy so you will have a few minutes more time. Start now."

Your mind felt like it was about to explode. What should you do? They were going to kill her, that was out of the question. But you couldn't do it. How even? How should you bring someone only with your feelings to wanting to end one's life? You were torn apart. You didn't want to do this at any cost. No. Just no.

She felt what you were going through. She whispered, swallowing down the tears, "It's okay. I won't see tomorrow anyways. It's okay, sweetheart. I'm so sorry." She tried to share a smile.

Your mind was running in circles. No. No, you wouldn't do that. No, no, no, GOD NO! Suddenly everything broke free. Everything they had done to you, the humiliation, the torture, the pain. It was like every single cell in your body was on fire. But before you could contain yourself you saw the wave of raging anger and hatred hitting the Doc in front you. God... no... Her face was fury itself. She even moved too fast for Fieberbrunn to react. She jumped off the chair, grabbed it and smashed it right into Fieberbrunn's face. The wooden chair shattered into pieces and while Fieberbrunn was on the floor, trying to see what’s going on through the blood on his face, the Doc took the scalpel from the tablet next to you and rammed it into Fieberbrunn's chest. Just as she tore it out and got ready to stab it in again you heard a loud shot and she stopped mid-movement. The scalpel clattered on the floor tiles and she doubled over to the side, her eyes staring into void. Everything happened too fast, you had not a moment to process. The guard was rushing to you just as the lights went out and earpiercing sirens started to ring. For two seconds you were in darkness and as the red emergency light turned on you saw the guard standing still, mouth open before he got down on his knees and fell right on his face, a dark handled knife in his back. Behind him appeared Loki in his complete battle armor. He took back his dagger as he crossed the room towards you with like 3 steps. Though you were still naked and all over covered in cuts and bruises, your eyes were the only thing he looked at.

"Your saviour is here.", he almost whispered low and soothing as he cut open the leathery shackles that held you back. You were unable to speak, your mind on pause. He gently picked you up and you clasped onto his neck. You looked down at the dead bodies, but the Doc was the only one you really saw. In that second you knew her rigid face would haunt you for the rest of your life. You just shut your eyes, trying to ignore all the noise around that almost made your head burst as he carried you through the corridors. Suddenly you saw bright light through your eyelids. You squinted into the sun and shielded your eyes with one hand. It felt like you haven't seen the sun for years. The fresh air was so relieving and you sucked it into your lungs eagerly. Your drug flooded brain did its best to let your eyes adjust to the brightness and you looked around. Loki carried you straight to the Quinn Jet parking right outside. You heard a well-known noise and turned your head just to see Tony fly over you in his suit and landing in front of the Quinn Jet. It felt like someone would press the 'Play' button in your mind again. Suddenly you were so nervous. You wanted to run over to him and pull him into a tight hug, just like you remembered from the past. But how could you? Even if you'd explain it to him, would he even slightly believe you? You started trembling at the thought. Meanwhile you were only a few steps apart. Just as Loki carefully let your feet touch the ground again, Tony exited his suit, coming towards you. You had no idea what muscle to move next, completely overcharged. He kept eye contact with an expression that confused you; it looked like relief, but so much more intense. As he was only one step away, he opened his arms and with the next step he embraced you dearly.

"Honeybun.", was all he whispered into the nape of your neck. It hit you like lightning, you haven't heard that word for about a decade; couldn't even really remember it but, damn, it had impact. One single word, a simple nickname was all you needed to completely lose it. Your skin was all chills, hesitantly closing your arms around Tony's torso.

"Uncle Tones", you said, your voice breaking away under the heavy tears. "I missed you."

You didn't care that you were naked, you didn't care that all the cuts burned like pure hell because of the hug. You weren't sure if you would ever get out there again. If you would get the chance to see your uncle again, the last bit of family remaining. But all that happened right now. You hoped so much this wasn't just an illusion or a dream.

Tony was the first one to pull away. He gently laid a hand on the side of your face.

"Damn, bun, you look shit. Let's get you home, kiddo.", and a broad, genuine grin appeared on his face.

Taglist: @it-jinxed-us​, @humbledarkness​, @lunawitch19, @redryderdesigns​

[the-god-of-nihon]

Writing Idea: It’s called an AU pt3

Future Jaune has a sit-down with team RWBY, and lets Ruby take his arm apart. Also angsty backstory.

_______________________________________________________________________

When the elevator finally dinged to a stop, and the doors slid open, Jaune found himself ‘face-to-face’ with the one, Ruby Rose. Or at least as face-to-face as they could get given the large height difference.

“Jaune! I heard from Nora you have a prosthetic arm, can I see it? Please? Please? Please?” Ruby excitedly entered Jaune’s personal space, moving to his left side when her eyes fell onto the metal limb.

“Whoa, whoa~ Ruby how bout we go to your dorm room, we can talk a bit and you can inspect it at your own leisure, how’s that sound?” Jaune laughed at her excitement, and suggested to keep from getting in anyone’s way or clog up elevator traffic.

The two walked to Team RWBY’s room, Ruby all the while sending glances at the arm, and asking Jaune about it. As they entered, the creak of the door drew the attention of 4 pairs of eyes. Blake on her bed eyes peering over the top rim of a book, Yang on her bunk holding Zwei in the air, whom also turned to the two new occupants, and Weiss at her desk seemingly working away at some homework.

“Like I said Ruby I don’t really know the specifics, I didn’t build the thing,” Jaune lifts his metal arm into view, and flexes its mechanical digits. The three other members of Team RWBY turned their attention to it, albeit for different reasons. “I pretty much just threw it at some poor guy, and told him to stick it on me,” he takes seat on the carpeted floor, Ruby taking a spot to his left side.

“Do you know who did?” Ruby asked eyes wide with curiosity, “from the way you describe it, you didn’t custom order it, and the design doesn’t match any existing prosthetics.”

“Well you did Ruby,” Jaune smiled as she balked, and sputtered, “you started getting into designing mecha-shifting prosthetics with weapons built into them, and this was one of the prototypes.”

“I-I did?” Ruby looked at the arm again as if she hadn’t seen it before, “I made this?”

“Yup,” Jaune nodded offering it to her, “nuts, bolts and all. This one in particular has a simple cannon in the forearm that fires dust from canisters loaded in the upper arm.” Jaune taps the metal shoulder plate with a faint etching of a rose on the surface.

“A canon?” Ruby tilted her head quizzically, “that’s it? Seems kind of simple.”

“Like I said, it was just a prototype, you had plenty of blue prints for more complicated works, with tons of bells and whistles waiting in the wings.” Jaune indicates a massive stack of papers with his hand, “This was more of a trial run to work out a basic template for more advanced pieces.”

”Can I take it apart?” Ruby said quickly as she bounced on the floor, “I can do some maintenance, and clean it!.”

“Nobody I’d trust more with it,” Jaune exhales contently and leaned back against a bedpost. Jaune watched her grab her tool kit, and lifting his shirt as she moved to his shoulder, to un-latch it. The metal mounting grafted onto his body, and the insertion slot where the prosthetic connected to his body were on full display, which was clearly a rush job with little care as to the adverse effects it could have had on the body taken into consideration.

As Ruby is going about removing Jaune’s artificial arm, Yang who had been watching the exchange with Weiss, and Blake, speaks up, “hey Jaune if it’s no trouble, how did you lose your arm?” Weiss and Blake both called out Yang’s name as if to admonish her for being insensitive.

“Yeah sure,” Jaune’s casual response had Blake and Weiss’s eyes the size of dinner plates, while Yang lay on her bed, kicking her feet playfully. “Ruby cut it off.” Yang and Ruby joined them in their shock, the newly removed mechanical arm slipped out of Ruby’s grasp before it hit the ground.

“I-I what?” Ruby was terrified at the prospect of attacking one of her friends with intent to harm. Yang, Blake, and Weiss all found the idea of their sweet little leader dismembering a person a shocking image.

“Hey guys it’s not that big a deal, losing limbs in our line of work is pretty common,” Jaune attempted to lighten the mood, and bring the girls out of their shock, “in my world, even Yang lost part of her arm early in her career.”

Yang recoiled as if shot, squeezing Zwei into her chest, “I do?” The eyes of the three other girls now on her, Yang looked down at her arms imagining having one less limb.

“Your right arm gets cut off a little above the elbow,” Jaune points to Yang’s right arm, “it happened during the Fall of Beacon, you never told me how.” Yang’s hand goes to her right bicep, she breaks from looking at Jaune to stare at her hand, while he continues but grows quieter as he goes on, “and I mean, I would have died if she hadn’t . . . Although that might have been for the best.”

“Why do you say that?” Ruby, sweet sweet Ruby, asks quietly looking up at Jaune where she had been close enough to hear the last part of his sentence.

Jaune promptly ignored Ruby’s question and beamed a smile around the room, “y’know what, how about we talk about something else. You wanna hear about your older selves in my world?”

“Yeah . . . Yeah, that sounds good,” Yang replied still a bit out of it, while Blake nodded her head, and Ruby appeared a bit indignant.

“I suppose I’m interested,” Weiss added changing her seating position to face Jaune better, “and if there is no chance of the universe imploding if you tell us, then no harm done.”

“I thought we didn’t have any proof of that,” Blake quips, aiming an amused expression at Weiss, to which she sits looks directly in front of her ignoring her teammates jab.

“Alright so Weiss, you’re the manager of general affairs, and the De Facto leader of humanity’s last stronghold, Amity Base.” Jaune smiles at her, “if something happens there you know about it, and what’s left of humanity would be at a loss without you.”

“What’s this Amity Base thing you mentioned?” Blake moved a bit closer atop her bed leaning towards the conversation.

“Basically the last safe place anybody has since the Kingdoms collapsed,” Jaune looks up and yet again finds his friends in shock, “oh right, I didn’t mention that did I? Uh, all the kingdoms and society as we knew it was destroyed. Now the only civilization outside of traveling villages is Amity Coliseum turned into a mobile operating base, and refugee center.”

“Everything just ended? Nobody stopped it?” Blake moved down to the floor next to Jaune.

“Oh believe me, a lot of people tried. We tried, and we failed.” Jaune watched Ruby tinker with his arm in silence for a moment, “in the end the best we can do is pick up the pieces, and try to live the best we can.”

“Is that really all?” Weiss asked quietly, not really expecting an answer.

“I dunno, but I know you three are doing whatever you can to make the best future for everyone.” Jaune offered a comforting smile to her; similar to the silly grin his younger self would give.

“ Searching for survivors or people in need, tracking enemy movements, looking for resources and making sure areas are safe,” Jaune turns to Blake, “that’s what makes Blake invaluable to Amity as well. She leads the scouting teams, which are pretty much responsible for the livelihood of the people.” Jaune turns his head upwards to look at the blonde brawler splayed out on her bed looking down at her them, “and finally Yang, the frontline commander. She leads all the Hunters, keeps the peace among the citizens, and protects Amity and its people from creatures of grimm and bandits alike.”

Yang seemed pleased, self-satisfied grin spreading across her face before it drooped a bit, “hey what about your team and you?”

“Yes, you never mentioned yourself,” Weiss reinforced, “what do you do?”

“Ah, well . . .” Jaune averted his eyes to avoid the gaze of all the girls, “I don’t do anything to aid Amity, I haven’t been back there in ten years.” “I basically just wander around the wilderness searching for things, if I find any people I send them back to Amity.”

“Why?” Blake raised an eyebrow, “why have you been gone for ten years, I mean?”

“ . . . Ten years ago we had a falling out, and I left because it was easier,” Jaune’s scratched his head, “and even after ten years I just don’t think I’m ready to go back.”

“That’s it?” Yang seemed perturbed, “just because you don’t want to?”

“Well I don’t think you three would want to see me either,” Jaune responded lightly, “the reason behind my departure wasn’t something easily forgiven or forgotten.”

“Well you at least had your team right?” Yang cheered, “So you at least your not alone.”

“Ren and Nora died around ten years ago,” Jaune rubbed his eyes keeping back the moisture building, “Pyrrha almost ten years before that.”

“No . . .That can’t be,” Ruby scuttled over to Jaune, taking his hand, “is that really true?”

“I’d never make up a lie like that, not in my wildest dreams,” the older man patted the girl’s head, as her team watched on the reality of his words setting in.

“Ten, and then twenty. . ,” Weiss mulled the words around in her mind, “wait how old are you Jaune?”

“Getting up there now,” Jaune took his attention away from the tiny girl attempting to comfort him, “I think I’m a little under forty now, uh thirty-seven or eight, I think.”

Weiss worked the math out in a second, “then that means you lost Ren & Nora when you were twenty-seven . . .”

Blake not far behind continued the thought, “and Pyrrha died when you were in your first year at Beacon.”

“The Vytal Festival . . .” Yang said with finality, expression stormy.

Ruby shuffled uncomfortably, “um, it’s kind of selfish, but I noticed you didn’t mention me at all. Are we not friends in your world?”

“Oh . . . Ruby, no no, you were my best-friend for the longest time. I wouldn’t have been able to keep going without you,” Jaune bit his lip, pulling her into a gently hug. “It’s just a bit of a sore spot.”

“You said you had a falling out with Blake, Yang and I, but you left out Ruby,” Weiss held her arms close to her body. She had a suspicion of the reason, but she did not like it.

Blake and Yang seemed to come to similar conclusions, faces growing grim as they watched their young leader pester the older man.

“Uh Ruby, please,” Jaune held his hands on her shoulders, looking her straight in the face, “I need you to understand that my world and this world are separate, and in no way the events that transpired in mine, has any bearing on what may happen in yours. Do you understand.”

“Uh. . . yes, I think so.”

Jaune exhaled, for the first time recalling something seemed to tax him, “you died ten years ago, in the same battle that took Ren & Nora’s lives.” His words hit RWBY like a truck, everything up to this point had affected them in one way or another, but suddenly what he said seemed very real. “You saved my life, but it cost you your own.”

“Is that what lead to the falling out?” Weiss spoke connecting the dots the quickest.

“And you’ve been alone for ten years, and refuse to talk to us because of it?”

“But why? It wasn’t your fault,” Yang growled, “that’s stupid.”

“It’s easy to say that, but when it actually happens it’s another matter,” Jaune looked Yang in the eyes, but they only held regret, “I cost your team its leader, and all of you a friend, and you, your sister, Yang. They had, and still have every right to blame me.”

“Jaune you can’t blame yourself, I-She did it because she wanted to.” Ruby looked afraid, and shaken, but she cupped Jaune’s face as she sat eye-to-eye with him, “like you said these sorts of things are just part of the job.”

“I know . . . I’ve had plenty of time to let it eat away at me, and I know full well wasting away in self-pity doesn’t help anyone.” Jaune took her hands, and held them in his own, “but that doesn’t mean I can shirk responsibility, yo- she died because of me that’s a fact. I have to live with that, and I will. Alone or otherwise.”

“No,” Yang spoke up jumping down from her bunk, “That’s bull! Yang Xiao Long doesn’t just abandon her friends!”

Weiss stepped up next to her, “I concur, regardless of the reason leaving a comrade in such a state is hardly respectable behavior.”

“Indeed,” Blake followed suit arms crossed, but expression comforting, “at the very least, you’d probably be more help back on Amity.”

“Thanks girls,” Jaune stood to face them, as he smiled fondly, “regardless of how it turns out, you’ve given me a bit of courage.”

Yang grabbed Jaune by the collar of his shirt, and pulled him down to her height, “how ever you get back to your world, once you are, you’re gonna march back to Amity or whatever, and talk to us! You got that? No more lone wanderer bull anymore, or I’ll come beat your ass through sheer power of will.”

Jaune stood hunched over looking a girl twenty years his junior in the face as she bereted him, the image made a chuckle rise from his chest into his throat. He pulled his face away standing to his full height, and threw his head back in laughter. “ I love you girls. I really do,” his response was filled with mirth and chuckles, facing the four again wiping tears from his eyes.

A light blush spread through each of the girls’ faces, Yang released his shirt and managed to get out retort, “Y-yeah, that’ll teach you.”

Jaune reached his hand up to pat Yang on the head, and assured her happily, “Yeah, when I get back I’ll talk to you all, Arc’s word.”

 Swatting at his hand in response, Yang’s abashed expression betrayed any sense of anger she might have been trying to convey.

[artemis-entreri]

"I wonder if Jarlaxle’s hat ever attracts hummingbirds in warm climes? Hmm. #feather hatted hummingdrow" (My revised comment inspired by your writing from today.) For fragile creatures the size of a toe, hummingbirds are impressively willing to buzz a human (or, presumably, an elf). Jarlaxle being swarmed by hummingbirds, or as one himself? Both mental images are haunting me now. Take art inspiration or just run away screaming from either or both of these as you will. *kicks captcha*

“Don’t you have enough magical trinkets already?” The human’s scowl dragged his face down so much that the disapproval in his flinty eyes could’ve spilled right out over his prominent cheekbones. 

“My abbil, there is no such thing as ‘enough’ magical trinkets,” the drow simply laughed and patted his companion on the shoulder with one hand, his other hand already going to the next item on the shelf.  

There they were, in an abandoned wizard’s tower, the mercenary moving about so casually that it was as though he already owned the place. However, each of the flamboyant figure’s steps only served to increase the assassin’s apprehension.

“Remind me again why we are here?” Entreri slapped his companion’s hand away from a desiccated bird skull. 

“I hardly need to, just as you hardly need to ask,” Jarlaxle replied, pointing at his featherless hat. 

The assassin blew out a frustrated sigh. “Yes, I can see that your feather is missing. I have accompanied you here to see to its replacement, not to partake in a tour.” Entreri swallowed his next words about the imprudence of ransacking a mage’s abode, for he knew it would just fall upon deaf ears.

“We are already here, it would be profligate to not fully explore the potential opportunities!”

Entreri snorted. “You’re one to talk about profligate.”

Jarlaxle simply smiled and tipped his hat. Entreri sighed and touched a hand to the black and red stitched gauntlet, not for the first time reassuring himself of its presence. 

“Aha!” The drow’s exclamation whirled the startled human about. Widened gray eyes immediately narrowed when they beheld a wand brandished in the ebony fingers.

“That’s not a feather,” the irritated man stated flatly.

“Your powers of observation are as potent as ever I see.”

Entreri resisted the urge to snatch the thin stick from the deceptively delicate obsidian digits. Stiffly, he forced himself to turn toward the ornate stand where the implement had rested.

“Wand of Avian Wonder,” the assassin read, his brow knitted. He glanced to his companion with a raised eyebrow.

Jarlaxle nodded excitedly. 

“This is what we came for? Not a replacement feather?”

“Why settle for one feather, when one could possess many?”

Realization dawned upon Entreri. “That was your plan all along?”

Jarlaxle nodded again.

“Truly, your greed knows no bounds.”

“I prefer to think of it as imagination.”

“You would so delude yourself.”

Jarlaxle simply laughed.

Shaking his head with resignation, the assassin diverted his attention to scanning his surroundings again. Not for the first time, his gaze alighted on each of the countless birds mounted within glass cases that lined the walls. Their unblinking, beady lifeless stares unsettled him.

“I’ve encountered a fair number of wizards,” Entreri mused aloud, “Yet none were quite so eccentric as this one.”

His companion was only half-listening, the drow’s elegant fingers tracing the length of the sleek wand as he turned it over and over. “My informants told me that he wasn’t born of this world. I know not the amount of truth in those tales, but they did speak of a word that is most strange, that the man used to refer to himself.”

Intrigued, Entreri turned and met the only set of eyes that shone with their own light.

“Ah, what was it… it was a word unlike any other that I’d heard before, said to mean ‘one who studies birds’…” The drow’s handsome features crinkled with concentration, his free hand rubbing his smooth chin. 

“Aha! Ornithologist!” Jarlaxle proudly declared with a flourish of the wand.

The assassin’s surprised blink lasted only a fraction of a heartbeat, but in that span of time, his companion, who stood clearly before him before his eyes had closed, was replaced by a… fog? when his eyes opened again. 

Entreri’s first reaction was that someone had drawn Charon’s Claw from his hip and called forth an ash wall, but when his hand went to the blade’s hilt, it found the familiar skull pommel secured in his weapons belt. However, before he even fully internalized this fact, a deafening cacophony of buzzing filled his ears. The assassin fought back the instinct to press his hands against his ears, forcing them to stay at his sides, ready to draw. 

The sight before him was nothing short of chaos, an ever-shifting veil of incessant buzzing, an outline that was more mutable than water. He’s briefly reminded of the swarms of spiders skittering the countless webs decorating Menzoberranzan, and the memory turned his skin to gooseflesh. 

Suddenly, flailing ebony arms poked out from either side of the strange fog, shattering the dark recollection. Further enhancing the now comedic effect were “particles” of the fog tumbling away, trailing with them puttering buzzes. Instinctively, the assassin’s eyes pored over the exposed ebony skin. Upon finding no punctures, scratches, or even so much of a mark, Entreri smiled, and nodded with grim satisfaction. He guessed his companion to be shouting something, but he couldn’t hear over the buzzing. Still, judging by the vigor of Jarlaxle’s flailing, Entreri guessed that the mercenary was, more or less, unharmed.

One of the fog particles landed on the floor and bounced away with a series of soft squeaks. After ascertaining that the Jarlaxle fog ball was still flailing with the appropriate amount of vitality, Entreri cautiously approached the particle, which was now feebly bouncing on the floor, emitting short bursts of buzzes. Although his keen eyes could easily discern the nature of the particle from his standing height, the assassin crouched to get a closer look, for he could scarcely believe what he saw. There, flopping about trying to get airborne again was a tiny, brightly-plumed bird, smaller than his thumb. 

A shift in his immediate surroundings called Entreri’s attention back to the Jarlaxle fog ball. The mercenary’s legs were visible now too, for he’d fallen to his hands and knees, blindly groping after the wand that was rolling away from him. The innumerable tiny brightly-plumed birds continued to swarm around the floundering figure.

Each time that Jarlaxle’s fingertips brushed against the wand, inevitably, one of the hoard of tiny birds would flit in startlement, sending the wand rolling away further. Although Entreri couldn’t hear Jarlaxle’s cries of dismay, he could imagine them well enough. The assassin watched the spectacle with a thin smile, nodding with satisfaction each time that the drow’s latest attempt to seize the wand was yet again foiled by one of the colorful critters. 

When Entreri finally kicked the wand into Jarlaxle’s grasping fingers, it was hardly because he’d grown bored of watching the mercenary receive his just reward. The sun was setting, and an eccentric wizard’s abode was among the least desirable places for him to spend the depth of night. He stepped back, predicting that his companion would call upon the magic of the wand again, and wanting no part in whatever chaos he was certain would ensue. 

The wand didn’t so much as flourish this time, but rather, flailed at the end of the drow’s fingertips. Faintly heard among the still cacophonous buzzing of the bird swarm, Entreri was able to make out the half-word “-thologist” being gasped out by a winded-sounding Jarlaxle. To the assassin’s surprise, no explosion of diatryma, rocs or axe beaks emerged. The horde of hummingbirds didn’t disappear either, but the fog began to disperse, each member simultaneously losing interest in the brightly-colored, sweet-scented “flower” that it’d been enveloping. 

The flock scattered so quickly, in so many different directions, that Entreri had to back away lest he was caught in the feathery pandemonium. Nonetheless, there were enough of them to obscure his vision, and only after many breaths later did he realize that Jarlaxle was not there. 

Entreri’s expression instantly drew grim. One hand thrust into the gauntlet and tore it lose from his side, dagger brandished in the other. Gloom had already began pervading the tower, and the assassin squinted into each dark corner in search of the entity that whisked away Jarlaxle with its foul magic. 

But there was nothing, no eyes met his except for the innumerable pairs of tiny, beady, lifeless ones, and no tingle of magical energy raised the hairs on the back of his neck. There was, in fact, no movement at all, except…

The thin wand rocked back and forth, having been caught in an indentation in the floor. And, next to the wand, was one of the tiny birds.

After one final look around to ascertain the sanctity of his surroundings, the assassin cautiously approached the wand and the bird. The small creature was the same kind as the others, but much more brightly plumed, and, even more curiously, possessed a pair of ruby eyes in lieu of the beady black ones of all the others.

Ruby eyes, Entreri realized with a start. He studied the bright purple of its head, wings and tail, taking in the iridescent quality of the rest of its plumage, which seemed to alternately present all the colors of a rainbow. All the while, the bird didn’t move, didn’t attempt to fly, only staring up at him. It almost looked… contrite?

“Jarlaxle?” Entreri chanced. The tiny bird nodded in a decidedly non-avian way.The assassin breathed a long, drawn-out sigh. He gingerly picked up the wand with his protected hand, and carefully set it back upon the stand from which the drow had lifted it. A buzz from behind him drew his gaze, and he almost felt pity for the transformed mercenary attempting, and spectacularly failing, to lift off.

“I know what you want me to do,” Entreri said, “But I’m not going to do it.”

More indignant buzzing sounded out from behind him.

“I could just leave you here,” the assassin’s tone turned icy, and the buzzing immediately stopped.

Shaking his head, Entreri sheathed his dagger and shed his gauntlet. He crouched before “Jarlaxle”. 

“Have you learned your lesson?”

The transformed drow didn’t nod this time, but remorse filled his ruby eyes. Not enough remorse, Entreri silently noted, for that ruby gaze darted to the wand resting back in its stand.

The assassin sighed helplessly and laid his hand on the floor, palm offered to his companion. “Come, let us be gone.”

Jarlaxle hopped into Entreri’s palm, surprising the man with how little a difference the tiny passenger made, even to his sharpened senses. A curious sensation filled the assassin’s chest, uneasiness coupled with inexplicable heat. Finding himself tensing, the perplexed man cleared his throat.

“Do inform me before you revert so that you don’t break my wrist.”

Entreri felt rather than saw Jarlaxle’s response. Something very thin and very delicate traced a groove in his palm, shooting shivers down his spine. 

“Not like that!” Entreri snapped, only to be rewarded with more involuntary shudders.

Although the assassin was certain he held his palm still despite the tremors of his body, Jarlaxle seemed to know regardless. The little bird did not relent, and between fighting the instinct to close his fist around the offender and resisting the flutters coursing through his body, Entreri was left quite breathless.

“Jarlaxle, I swear, if you do not stop, I will crush you,” Entreri warned, but he doubted that his shaky voice could even intimidate a hummingbird that wasn’t transformed from the most obnoxious of drow.

[[ The word, “ornithologist”, doesn’t actually exist in Common, for the etymology of the word is based in our Latin, rather than their Thorass. There exists across Faerûn as well as other parts of the Realms portals linking Toril to other worlds, including Earth. While an entity needs to be as powerful as Elminster to intentionally use these portals to traverse back and forth between the worlds, to find them purely by chance can happen to pretty much anyone from any of the connected worlds. It’s this facet of FR canon that inspired me to transport a hapless ornithologist from our world to theirs. Since the type of rigorous arcane studies engaged in by wizards is similar to the practices of scientists, I’d always figured that a scientist in our world would probably gravitate towards wizardry, should they find themselves inadvertently stuck in the Realms. As for what happened to the scientist-wizard and why he isn’t there to defend his tower against the interlopers, well, that’s up to your imagination. :P

The “Wand of Avian Wonder” is a modified version of the classic D&D item, Wand of Wonder. The idea is that the ornithologist, in his obsession with birds, modified it so that all of its effects became bird-themed. 

Jarlaxle’s never tiny and helpless. Even when he seems to be, he still manages to discover and exploit one of Artemis’ erogenous zones. >_> ]]