Chapter 282 - My SI Stash #82 - Crimson Immoderation by Flux Casey (RWBY)

-SI as Vlad (an expy character from Fate) into RWBY~ Like that other work of Flux, this will contain some genderbent characters and lewds ofc.

*QuestionableQuesting fic so you'll need to make an account and have your email verified to get whitelisted for the NSFW contents inside! I suggest using another email if you don't get a verification mail! Let me know in the comments if y'all need more help.

Sypnosis: ???

Rated: M

Words: 53K

Posted on: forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/crimson-immoderation-rwby-cyoa.9080/ (Flux Casey)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)

Chapter 1-3 (exceptional)

You know, it's funny. You see, most scenarios like this? Where you find yourself in the afterlife and get a chance at a new life of your choice? Most of them it's 'Oh, I died saving someone's life', usually by truck.

Turns out? The infinite multiverse is a big place. The standard for being a good person is actually wayyyy lower than that. Be a decent person? Generally try to contribute and try not to hurt people? Good enough. When there's an infinite number of bad people to reincarnate as and an infinite number of good people to reincarnate as, the standard can pretty much be lowered to 'just don't be a shithead'.

Lucky me!

"Welcome to the afterlife." the little white blob of light bobs around as it speaks to me. "Because of your general good intentions and deeds you have the privilege of choosing your next–"

"Lewd CYOA in the Ruby setting!" I blurt out before it even finishes talking.

The blob seems to sag in the air. "Really? Really. Weren't you a writer in your past life? Can't you be a little more creative than that?"

"I was a fanfiction writer."

"... Of course you were. All right. Pervert special, coming up," the blob sighs as menus appear in front of me. I rub my hands together gleefully as I scan through the options. Or I get the feeling of doing so, despite not having hands. Or a body. Or eyes to see any of this. Afterlife is weird.

First things first. Let's build new 'me'. Who should I be...? I recall an off-hand comment I made recently to an FGO player when he summoned Vlad III, saying he summoned me because of some minor similarities.

The blob sighs… I think the blob is reading my mind. "Seriously? Not only are you borrowing this entire creation process, you're ripping off character ideas?"

"Hey, haven't you heard? Everything is a ripoff of something nowadays."

"You're not just ripping off the character, you're ripping off ripping off a character. Are you sure you're in the right place? Maybe you'd be better off reincarnated as a parrot or a chimp. They're supposed to be good at copying people."

Err... "Are... You actually going to do that?" I ask, suddenly worried that that's a real possibility now.

The blob sighs again, hangs low in the air and starts bobbling away. "No, just... Get on with it and go away. I'd like to lament the dwindling creativity of your species in peace."

"Thanks, Chief!" I chirp in relief before going back to the creation process.

Now let's see... Vlad. He was a fancy lad so the noble background seems appropriate. I mean, he was a noble. That just fits. And then... Hm. I'll have to think about where. Let's come back to that.

Aura can be average. Nah, maybe a little better than average. I'll come back if I really need the points.

Semblance? Okay. I know what I want for this. I'm not going to use Vlad's phantasm because that's just stabbing people with blood. Even if I expanded it to full on haemokinesis that's just gross. Bloodbending, yes. But I'm having fun this life, thank you. Instead I'll lean on the other vampirey aspect and have it be a draining effect on touch, including touching aura. Draining aura itself is probably beyond the means of a semblance but I can weaken it and in turn strengthen my own. That's... probably fine? I dunno. We'll see how it plays out. So on touch is cheap, it's a little tricky to use and visible, but that lets it be pretty powerful and with the functions I want. Defensive, offensive and with buffs and debuffs.

Now the tricky bit. Traits.

Ferocity? Berserker, so yes. Also cheap and useful to like fighting in an action setting. Learned in mathematics... With a good memory... Eh, that'll do for intelligence. Charisma we'll go with charming (you look at that goatee and smirk and tell me he isn't), intimidating (you look at that goatee and smirk and how he impales people and tell me he isn't).

Combat stats. Hah, this is where sacrifices must be made. Strength average. Speed, yes. Agility, yes. Accuracy... mmm, average. Endurance, weak.

Fighting style... Wait. So weapon-reliant means I'm dedicated to armed combat but better at it, but I could get weaponmaster for the same price and be absurdly competent with it? No demerits? Alright. Yes, weaponmaster please.

Background traits?

Important family is covered by noble. Criminal contacts, no. White F– no. … Hunted, huh? That's a lot of points to get back and I've been pretty spend-happy... Okay but by who... Hm. Infamous too, that fits the backstory... Okay. Okay, this is coming together.

Noble background, starting in a free town in Mistral, hunted by bandit tribes and infamous in Mistral. Because I'll be going to Vale anyway so none of that will matter as soon as I leave.

Right... Most of this other stuff is skippable... Mentor? Wait, so I can just cut all my skill costs by two-thirds? For free? Why would I not do that? Well... Okay. Let's... Alright, let's add some more skills. Fix endurance to be average, get people skills... Finance, why not.

… Man, if I wanted to I could just break this thing over my knee with mentor alone.

Shopping!

… Okay, this... I guess the shop is a bit fast and loose as far as buying things goes. I'll get some fancy clothes as a fancy lad. Then weapon designing. Collapsible spear for The Impaler, obviously. Let's make it... My semblance is going to be a pretty significant part of my arsenal so let's have it open into a retractable, ballistic grappling hook. For Scorpion-style get over here moves or just to get around the battlefield faster.

Huh. Don't really want much else from the shop... Camera? Nah, scroll is a camera. Oh! Scroll! Glad I noticed I had to pick that even if it's free. I'd feel like such a moron making a mistake like that.

And now... The reason I picked this... Heeheeheehee...

God I'm such a deviant. Oh well.

Designing my form. Alrighty! Tall. Fate Vlad was six foot two so in RWBY terms he'd probably be like six six or six seven. And slim. Dude practically had spider limbs in his artwork. Long, flowing, platinum blond hair, bitchin' goatee...

… Hmmm. To gigap.e.n.i.s or not to gigap.e.n.i.s.

… Gigap.e.n.i.s. P.o.r.n physics will make it work. I hope. A lot of halfway s.e.x in my future if not.

Victory conditions! Time to get some... Oh, hey it says "within your life" instead of "two years"! Nice! No rushing to do shit for no reason. I mean it doesn't even say what the failure consequences are.

Rich? Sure. Subversion? Sure. Marriage. They're called waifus for a reason.

… Breeding slave. I mean the term for it is weird? But making the babies is not exactly something I'm against. And there's nothing in there that says they have to actually be slaves, just pop out kids.

Growth, I'll take variety. Quick and easy points.

Bonuses! Pre-f.u.c.k.i.e.d is a given, though I'll set it to going forward so I can actually experience it rather than just having memories of it. More fun that way. Fetish acceptance? Eh, put it as a maybe. Gender flip? Sure, let's go all out. Kama Sutra... It feels like cheating. But at the same time it would assuage my concerns about the ol' gigap.e.n.i.s. So sure.

How many points does that leave me? Five to start... One from the extras? Take off fetish acceptance that makes seven total.

Extra girls cost four. I need a drawback.

Needs seems... Well, in the long term would probably be fine? But in the short term before I've met or seduced anyone? I'd be in trouble. Blue Balls is like that but less dangerous and I can (theoretically) deal with the consequences on my own if I need to. I'll take that one.

Thank the white blob I didn't give my self gigantoballs alongside the gigap.e.n.i.s or I'd be in for a rough time real quick.

Now. The girls section. I tab over to it and I'm greeted by a wall of ahegao faces.

… This is gonna be so great.

Alright. I have six choices from stocking up points and gaming the system like a montherf.u.c.ker, even without going all the way with it. So. Who's on the list.

Roman is a good shout. Every girl crazy 'bout a sharp-dressed man. And Vlad is a snappy dresser. Ilia would be nice to give girls a break from the gigap.e.n.i.s... Or make it an ultimap.e.n.i.s if I ever run across Salem? Hm.

Winter? Winter. Definitely. Summer would be nice... We'll see. Neo is another must. Cinder and Emerald I'm not crazy about but those are some good perks. Yang is good for more assertive women and would pair nicely with Winter and Cinder's perks. If I have Winter I want Weiss because sisters should enjoy doing things together.

I guess that technically applies to Ruby too... And her perk applies to ninety percent of the cast... But I'd still feel squicky. She's out. Come back to it when she's a year older at least.

Still, that's too many girls. I need to take some out. Roman while nice can be cut. Ilia I covered that flaw already. She's out. That's seven...

… Dammit. Fine. Summer is off the list. But I'm putting her back on ASAP! With the growth perk I should be getting another six points for basically free soon.

So is that it? Am I done?

The blibbity blob is back. "... You know, you'll probably come back as an asthmatic sea slug after this."

"Then I'll be the best damn asthmatic sea slug I can be if it means I can come back and live the harem life again."

"Fine, fine. Off you go."

Wait. Is that–? "Wait! Waitwaitwaitwait–!"

-(-)-

​

​

"Wait!" I shout as I lurch out of... bed.

… Dammit.

No, nevermind, it's fine. Don't bitch about living the harem life. So I ended up setting myself on Team Evil by accident! Turn 'em good with my gigap.e.n.i.s. Problem solved.

Pulling my very comfortable silk pajamas away I inspect it. It is a pretty good p.e.n.i.s.

It's twice the/same size as mine–

Oh.

Ohhhhh, okay that's a migraine, that's a migraine. I flop back in bed and close my eyes. I don't know how long I lay there, but information – memories – flood into my brain. Or connect? I guess they were always in this body but–

… It doesn't matter. The memories of this life come in and blibbity blob seems to have not pulled any punches with my roughly filled in backstory. I am Vlad Dracul the Third. Son of Vlad Dracul the Second and brother of Radu Dracul.

Both deceased. Less than a week ago.

Cliff notes of his– my life story then. Vlad was born the second son less than a year after his brother. The Dracul were once a noble family in Mistral, ruling over a town of middling size in the west of Anima. But with the dissolution of the nobility in the Vytal Accords, they lost their noble title. Still, they maintained control of the town of Wallachia (cute) through sheer competence. And perhaps some more underhanded occurrences that the young sons of the family weren't told about. Father to son to daughter to son, the Dracul ensured when the matter of rulership was in contention, a Dracul was still the best candidate for the job. The family were educated in history, economics, politics, culture and combat. Should the city come under attack from the Grimm, they would defend it, joining the militia to drive them off.

And so, when the town was attacked, the Dracul joined the defense. However, it wasn't a roaming pack of Grimm. Bandits were assaulting the town, Anima's own self-made plague of people who gave up on the lopsided society of Mistral and created their own societies of murderers and thieves.

Bandits are scavengers, but they are also survivors. And surviving in the wildlands is not something that can be done without strong fighters. Vlad didn't see his father die. His brother delivered the grim news (no pun intended) as the brothers tried to drive the marauders away from the shelters. Radu never saw the bandit that killed him, a short sword shattered his aura and drove through his back in one stab.

There Vlad stood. Watching his brother die and his killer flee. He neither saw, nor heard anything else as he lunged after the killer, not even of conscious enough mind to use the grapple on his spear. And as Vlad reached out for his quarry, he grasped hold of the bandit's neck. And drank.

And drank.

And drank.

It hadn't been long until the bandit could no longer stand, Vlad following him down as he kept hold. Then the bandit began to beg. Then he stopped begging, hanging limp in Vlad's hands.

And he drank.

It had been the first time Vlad had used his semblance to drain someone of their very life. He had no idea of the consequences of doing so. His semblance could drain a person's strength and heighten his own but there was a limit. If he crossed it, his mind would temporarily degrade, entering a berserker state. He hadn't drained enough raw strength from the bandit to hit the limit but that didn't matter. Killing with it, it seemed, had the same effect.

Radu died alone. The only sound his brother's mad laughter as he tore through anyone who came at him, every single one impaled through the chest or drained to a husk.

The bandits fled. They swore vengeance. It wasn't clear whether they were running from him or from the Grimm. Either way, the dark creatures swarmed after both the town and the fleeing marauders.

Vlad fought on through the night as the Grimm continued attacking. Without the presence of humans or faunus, he was no longer sustaining his berserker state but it was no longer about satisfying his vengeance or his bloodl.u.s.t. Instead it had become a matter of protecting his home, doing his duty. If he allowed himself to falter, that would be it. The great Dracul family wiped out by bandits and Grimm. Just another footnote of Mistralian history.

Hours later it was over. The Grimm were puddles of ichor and ash. The bandits that hadn't fled fast enough just piles of gore.

For protecting the people, he received no thanks. Fear was his reward.

He couldn't be certain that it was fear of him alone that began the movement to have someone other than the last Dracul take over the city. No doubt there was some amount of unrest that Wallachia hadn't 'joined the rest of the world' in moving on from dynastic rulers. They wouldn't want someone they feared ruling over them.

And then the talks turned even further.

They didn't want someone they feared living among them.

He was allowed to stay in his home. It was the seat of power but as the Dracul had always been the ones in power, he had been in no way ready to leave it. But once the funerals for his father and brother were completed, he was asked to leave Wallachia at his earliest convenience.

…

Motherf.u.c.ker!

Well, isn't that bloody clever then! From a noble family. But I didn't pick 'important family' so they had to all die. Didn't pick 'influence' or 'allies' or 'retainers' or 'status' so any power my family had needed to be stripped from me!

F.u.c.k.i.n.g f.u.c.k! I mean... Yeah, this was mostly on me but still! There's a disconnect but I still have memories of playing with him as kids, learning to fight together, arguing about which one of us was going to marry Winter when we... grew up...

Winter.

​

-(-)-

​

"–And I was hoping we may be able to renegotiate our arrangement with your family's company once the new government is more firmly in place."

"That would be something to take up with him."

I catch a snippet of conversation as Winter and the... new mayor of Wallachia enter my... his estate.

"Ah, of course, of course! I wouldn't wish to presume–"

She spots me walking down the stairs. "Leave us," she commands, an order that would be followed. Even from a man whose new station was perhaps going to his head a little, there would be no argument. The mayor (thank the blob I'm leaving because I'll never be able to think or say that without venom) scampers into his office.

"Vlad... It's been a long time." Winter Schnee stands before me. Standing even now with military poise. Even so, with her hands behind her back I notice her arms shift slightly. I think she's fidgeting.

"Four years," I agree as I step off of the staircase to greet her properly. Offering my hand, she offers hers in turn and I lean forward to brush my lips over her knuckles. I note a little smile peek through as I rise and release her hand, likely remembering when I... When Vlad... F.u.c.k it. When I used to be especially eager to greet her like that when she visited. "It has been too long."

"It has," she agrees. "You certainly grew up," she notes now that I've risen to my full height, not towering over her but certainly taller than her.

The last time I had seen her was not long before she was disinherited. No more fancy trips around the world when her time in combat school was on break. No more business trips with Father. With that, all her reason and ability to come visit went away. It was no concern to little Vlad. Just some time apart for him to grow up and sweep her off her feet.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it here in time for the funeral," she continues, her eyes softening, "Your father was a good man. And Radu... Vlad, I can't even imagine–"

"Please," I held up a hand, "It is unworthy of both of us to dwell on loss and despair. Please allow me to escort you to" glance at the clock on the wall "lunch, and we can reminisce over happier times."

I watch her, clearly brought up short at being interrupted (which I imagine doesn't happen often), but she soon allows a small smile through. "I think I would like that," she says, taking my offered arm.

Lunch was honestly only worthy of the term because there was food present. We barely paid attention to it, all our attention devoted to the other.

"–And then in you ran, little Vlad all of twelve years old, covered in mud presenting me with a 'bouquet' of flowers you picked from your own garden, Radu hot on your heels!"

I laugh, tears in my eyes. "He was furious with me! Or at least he pretended to be, mostly I think he was mad at himself for not thinking of it first."

"No, no, it was our fathers who were furious!" she retorts laughing lightly herself, "Mine livid at the 'upstart brat' trying to seduce his princess–"

"–And mine for digging up the garden!" I finish. "He made me replant and take care of that flowerbed myself after you left!"

We laugh together and honestly, even if only a part of me needs this, a part of me that only existed to me for about six hours, I feel like I needed it. Like all of me needed it.

Let's be real. Right before those six hours, I died. Maybe a little relief and joy was just what the doctor ordered, for both Vlad and I.

But even so, the moment is over and Winter's expression turns pensive. She reaches across the table to grasp my hand. "What are you going to do, Vlad?" her thumb running across the back of my hand. Very forward for her.

"I don't know yet," I half-fib. I know generally what's next but no plan of action. "I need to leave but, this was everything." I gesture around dining room, the house, and further, out towards the town. "This was supposed to be me, helping Radu govern, or governing myself. The idea that I would ever just leave..."

"You could come with me?" Winter suggests and if I didn't know her better I'd think there was pleading in it. "Join Atlas Academy? I could put a word in with General Ironwood–"

I put my hand over hers. "I appreciate that, Winter. Really I do. But I feel like I'd chafe under military doctrine. And would Atlas have any more tolerance for what my semblance does to me than Wallachia?"

She looked away. It's not in the same way but she knows it's true. Atlas wouldn't turn me away but with the berserker state and the reputation I earned from it, I would be under pretty strict scrutiny. Not to mention I would be restricted from using it which is not how you train and improve your semblance.

And if they restricted it, I wouldn't want to work for them anyway. They would be literally rejecting part of my soul, after all.

Man, it's strange to think of RWBY superpowers like that but it's true here. Legitimately powers made of your own soul.

"I see," Winter says and this time it's not imagined, she's disappointed. "Sadly, I believe you are correct. Even so, perhaps one of the other academies? Your skills in combat could gain you entry to any of them with little trouble," she tries suggesting again, looking away again and, "Perhaps Beacon."

Hmmm...

"Winter?" I call questioningly.

"Hm?" she looks back at me innocently.

"Why Beacon?"

"It is a fine institution. General Ironwood is a good friend of the Headmaster there and they are much more open to–"

I raise my hand and give her a knowing look.

She sighs. "It seems Weiss has decided to follow in my footsteps and is set on going to Beacon Academy to train as a huntress."

"You want me to look after your sister."

"Not 'look after'!" she denies, a little affronted. "Just... Keep an eye on her. Make sure she's happy..."

"As options go, it's probably my best," I admit. "And I'd be happy to keep an eye on her for you, Winter."

"Thank you," she says with a full, open smile. Something I rarely saw on her even when we were younger.

My hand twitches. And I realise I'm still holding one of her hands with both of mine. By the look of her and the dusting of pink on her cheeks, I guess she noticed too. Even so, I don't let go.

"You know," she says, pulling her hand back in a way that pulled me along with it, "Back then? My father was right to be worried about you." With her free hand she pulls me in, leaning in to kiss me.

I offer an absent thought to the poor cook that made that meal for us because things escalated quickly from there. Including literally as we stumbled our way up the stairs to what was still for the time being my bedroom.

I kick backwards to open the door, the thump followed by a slam as it hits the wall. Winter leads from behind, pushing me further in before guiding me to and shoving me on the bed. She unclasps her coat at neck and midsection. "Have you ever...? Before?" she asks leadingly as she throws her coat over a chair and starts unbuttoning her vest, kicking the door shut again with her heel.

I swallow reflexively. "No." Vlad hasn't.

And I can definitively say I've never had s.e.x with a six foot amazonian supermodel before. So... Still true.

"Okay, just follow my lead." She undoes the last button of her vest, throwing it on top of her coat. "You aren't undressing yet," she observes.

"Right! Yes!" I agree, throwing aside my own coat... somewhere, and start working on my ruffly shirt.

"Here," she whispers as she moves in close and deftly starts flicking open the buttons, "let me." The shirt comes off and undershirt follows.

Layers. It's cold in Remnant Wallachia.

"Now mine," she continues to whisper. Following her directions, I grip the hem of her own undershirt and pull it up over her head.

Good Blob.

"Hey," Winter hisses, waving a hand in front of my face, "Stay with me."

"Sorry."

And then any attention she got back from that is thoroughly lost again as her very functional white, snowflake-patterned bra comes off and I'm greeted by two gloriously firm-looking mounds peaked by tiny pink n.i.p.p.l.es. With great effort I tear my eyes away so I can drink in the whole picture. A toned physique of the palest porcelain, only interrupted by light scars and nicks dotted across the expanse of flesh.

Next it's my turn again and my boots and then my unreasonably fluffy pants are sent across the room.

"Oh. Oh my."

Winter's eyes are practically popping out as she gets her first look at what she'll be working with. Hesitantly, she peels down my underpants and it pops out.

The journey of the gigap.e.n.i.s begins.

I didn't go too absurd with it but it's certainly enough to give Winter pause as she looks it up, and up, and down again. To her credit, there's no fear. Her expression doesn't say she's scared or intimidated.

It says she's come up against a challenge and working out the logistics.

Nodding firmly, her own pants and snowflake panties come off next. For a single moment that I pray to remember for eternity, I see a fully nude Winter Schnee standing proudly in my bedroom, legs spread, ready to take on the world. To describe Winter Schnee is to describe poise, precision and presence. It doesn't matter one iota that this woman is nude and about to take a whole lot of d.i.c.k. As far as her bearing is concerned she owns this room, this house, this world.

Right now, there is nothing I want more in this world than her.

The moment ends and Winter crawls towards me onto the bed. Her first point of attention is, as was inevitable, my crotch. She leans over it, kissing the head lightly, before allowing saliva to dribble down onto it. Her tongue flicks out giving it little licks now and again but it's clear this is not attempt at a blowjob. This is her prep work for what comes next.

When she feels satisfied, she moves further up my body, capturing my lips again. Grinding her lower lips against my length. "Touch me, Vlad," she whispers, ordering, not pleading. I can't help but comply as my hands begin running over her body as she continues to slide back and forth. We continue in this fashion, I revel in the feel of her body on mine, as I find the spots that make her sigh.

"Okay," she breathes, "I think I'm ready."

She leans back, now sitting perpendicular to my shaft, it resting on her abdomen and I see just what kind of challenge Winter is taking on. Raising her h.i.p.s, she tilts forward and guides the head to her entrance... and sinks ever so slightly as she gasps out.

I feel the warmth and wetness engulf the head and my h.i.p.s twitch. Before it can be anything more than a twitch, she places a hand firmly on my pelvis. "N-no," she gasps, "You're... Very big. Let me set the pace."

I nod jerkily in answer and she sinks a half inch further. It's almost enough to overwhelm me and make me break that agreement right there.

She sinks lower, and lower.

"G-Gods, there's still more!" she whispers in astonishment, sighing. "I'm going to be so sore." As if she admitted it in resignation, she allowed herself to drop fully onto my shaft. "G-gh!" she gasps out.

"Are you okay?" I ask, worried I really did overdo it.

"Fine. Just... An adjustment, is all." As if she took the words as a challenge, she starts raising her h.i.p.s again, I feel her clench shut as my member pulls out of her, only to by pried open again as she drops. "Kuh, hah... hah... hah..."

And raise.

And lower.

"Vlad... Touch me more. Please." This time, it is begging and I'm happy to oblige as I watch her struggle to keep going. Working the spots I learned before, she gasps and twitches on my shaft. I ghost my hands over her thighs, up around her h.i.p.s to her b.r.e.a.s.ts. As my thumb flicks over a n.i.p.p.l.e her hands snap up and cup my hands over her chest and I start kneading.

She seems to start getting a rhythm, her muscles growing used to the large insertion and before long she's bouncing and gasping. Her hands leave mine and she plants them on my chest for more leverage. My own hands travel down and grasp her behind, raising my h.i.p.s to meet hers on every down thrust.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! Mm!" she gasps, cute little m.o.a.ns. Winter it seems is a quiet lover. Her channel quivers and her pace becomes frantic. What had been long drags along most of the shaft become short, sharp little movements. "Kiss me!" she orders in a gasp.

"Gladly," I lean up to meet her and take her lips, her p.u.s.s.y throbbing and pulsing over my entire c.o.c.k, which responds in turn as I feel my release burst out of me. Our h.i.p.s slam together as we ride out the aftershocks of our mutual orgasm.

Winter pants atop me, basking in the afterglow before she lets herself, graceful even in this moment, slump forward into arms that reflexively encircle her.

"Hmmm..." she sighs, "That was good. I'm not sure I could have done that without aura."

"Proud of you," I say, smirking.

Her head pops up again, glaring at my smirking face before she rolls her eyes and leans into my shoulder again. "Vlad?" she says quietly, slightly muffled. "Are you sure you can't come to Atlas?"

Well if this was her sales pitch it was a damn good one, I don't say aloud. "I'm sorry but no."

"... You can visit me in Vale?" I suggest.

She turns enough to put me in her periphery. "... I'll get myself assigned to the General's staff for the Vytal Festival." She wriggles a little. "Do you ever go down?" she asks incredulously.

"It is going down."

"... Gods."

​

-(-)-

​

The next morning, my luggage is packed. I don't just gather my own effects. I look through the house for any keepsakes of Radu and my father. Technically the whole house was ours but that isn't an argument worth having. Most of it, I can't take with me. But the little things I take. Photographs, mostly. Some of Father's jewellery with the Dracul family emblem. We may not rule anymore but it's still something I'll take pride in.

And then that's it. I'm leaving with Winter. She's letting me ride with her to Vale for the academy entrance exams, then she's back to Atlas and I won't see her again. "Ready to go?" she asks as I approach with my luggage.

A stupid but perfect thought strikes me. "One more thing!" I exclaim as I run around the back of the house.

Once more, I emerge, slightly dirtied but grinning as I approach Winter with a bundle of freshly picked flowers. "I can't take them with me," I say sadly. I really had spent a lot of time on them. "And besides, they were always meant for you."

As I presented the flowers to her, tied together with string just like the first time, I think I managed to utterly ruin her cool façade. She looked as though her heart was in her throat as she took them in hand. "Get on the airship," she croaked, her aura of command fractured in that moment.

Even so. "Yes, Ma'am," I acknowledge, climbing into the aircraft. From the corner of my eye I watch her smell the flowers, her shoulders squirming a little and bouncing on her toes a couple of times.

Then she turns around. And the mask is back on. She clears her throat as she closes the aircraft door. "Thank you. For the flowers."

She really is just like a grown up Weiss, isn't she?

… I agreed to watch out for her sister when I plan to f.u.c.k her, didn't I?

Well, how could that possibly go wrong?​

Chapter 2

Looking down on Wallachia, I'm both reminded and shown for the first time just how beautiful it is. I remember walking the streets and Father telling me of the history. Of how it was founded by our long dead ancestors and through great hardship, flourished. From simple beginnings of wooden structures, some of which still stood to this day, and then as time passed and the place came into its own, more elaborate structures began to spring up. Brilliant minds imbuing ordinary buildings with gorgeous gothic architecture. And then as the town succeeded while others failed, other groups, refugees, arrived and added their own particular marks as the town expanded. Byzantine, Chinese, a few Victorian-tinged Greco-Roman courtesy of some from Argus with a little wanderl.u.s.t. The place was a mishmash of many different cultures from all across Anima but at its core remained the marks of the people who began it all.

I look back on that week before I was me. When I was mourning my father and brother. And I wonder, if I had been stronger, or weaker, or if there was anything I could have done to make this unnecessary. I remind myself that this is just a construct of my own making. Even in error, I chose this. But it isn't like that changes how I feel. That just makes it feel like it's my fault no matter what.

"You can return someday," Winter tells me, in the same tone she used when she first arrived. When she tried to comfort me from my loss.

"Yes," I say wistfully, the city sinking further and further into the distance as the airship gets going.

There is a comfortable silence in the cabin. We're the only passengers what is pretty obvious from the utilitarian design to be a military transport. Which gets me curious. "How did you even get time away?"

"Ah, it was requested for a huntress to look into the surrounding area," Winter explained. "Look for any buildup in the Grimm population. I handled it before I came to see you. I didn't want my duties to interrupt us."

"To... Interrupt...?"

She stiffens in her seat. "I had not anticipated things to... progress so quickly between us, if that's what you mean." Her eyes flick to the bouquet sitting, belted, into another chair, flash frozen in a block of ice. A smile breaks through that she doesn't even bother trying to subdue, her eyes returning to mine. "I don't regret any of it."

"I'm glad," I answer, matching her smile. I'd take her hand if this stupid military harness weren't in the way.

A rumbling, clattering sound passes through the walls of the airship before the whole thing jerks to the side, a flash of black visible through the windows before it's gone just as quickly.

Winter slaps a button on the wall behind her that leads to the c.o.c.kpit. "What's going on?!"

"Nevermore, Ma'am!" the pilot answers promptly through the static of the speakers. "Deploying countermeasures." There's a thunk, followed by the sound of tearing paper. "Countermeasures deployed. Half of them have taken the bait. It's a pretty big flock, Ma'am."

Winter releases an exasperated sigh. "Don't move," she warns me, before she flings open the airship door and gymnast flips onto the roof WHAT.

In the time it takes before she comes back, I'm not sure I even could have moved. I see her go, hear a sword being drawn, see a glow and then hear the flapping of hundreds of bird wings.

And then she swings back inside, slamming the door shut. The intercom clicks again. "Grimm have given up pursuit. Excellent work, Ma'am."

She lets out a self satisfied hum as she adjusts her clothing that had been ruffled by the buffeting winds outside. She smirks as she sees my wide eyes and doubtlessly thunderstruck expression.

She turns and leans over me, taking my chin in her hand. "That expression. That look of awe on your face." She leans further in, taking my lips in hers. "I'll never get tired of it."

As she moves to pull away, my arm jerks out on its own, circling around her neck and pulling her back in, resuming and deepening the kiss. Much of the rest of the flight is spent with our tongues battling it out for dominance. While I think overall I lost, I don't mind at all.

But all good things have to end, even multi-hour make out sessions. No Mile High Club because Winter didn't want to have to explain to the mechanics what the fluids are when she gets home. She has a reputation to uphold after all.

One day, I want to make her shed all that military and moneyed propriety and scream 'F.u.c.k it, take me now!'

Not today. But one day.

It's fun and kind of nice how Winter fusses over me in her own special way before she leaves. Making sure I knew where the hotels were, how to get up to Beacon for an entrance exam, where affordable dining options could be found.

"And remember, don't approach Weiss right away. She'll recognise I was here in an instant and she wanted her independence from me almost as much as from Father."

I smile understandingly but, "I doubt your sister is any kind of fool but surely she couldn't–"

"She'll recognise my perfume's smell on you."

"... Ah. That." I swallow. "A fair point."

She returns my 'understanding' smile with a hundred percent more smug. "Yes, if me just being here would annoy her, I imagine if she smelled me on you–" She somehow cuts herself off with a hiccuping sound. "Is there anything else you need?"

Hmmm. How sappy an answer to give. "Nothing fair to ask of you," I answer as I wrap my arms around her. Open to interpretation.

"I think I could afford a kiss goodbye," she breathes leaning in.

"Well in that case how could I refuse?"

The kiss isn't teasing like it was on the airship. Nor as passionate as everything that came after. It's tender. A promise that this isn't where things end.

And then she's walking away, back to the airship. And I'm left alone standing outside the Vale airport.

First port of call is a hotel.

Second port of call is another hotel.

It turns out my timing was good but not perfect. I arrived during Beacon's recruitment period but late into it. All the students from afar that got in already are sticking around in hotels, booking up all the rooms alongside all the new applicants like myself. It's on the third hotel, a less than ideal choice for what I can afford, that I finally find a room available. Paying the fee for a week's stay with a reservation going forward, I lug my luggage up the stairs to my room (no lifts), dump it on the floor and immediately go take a shower. Feeling refreshed but a little tired, I check the time.

… A couple hours after I left. Local time.

F.u.c.k.i.n.g jet lag.

Right. So midday yet I'm exhausted. Might be an idea to see if I can arrange an exam tomorrow and then... Bum around Vale for a bit. See what's to be seen.

I head back to the airport and follow signs to the bullheads that make the short hop up to Beacon. By all accounts it looks like it might be the equivalent of bus service prices. Nice and cheap. Even so, they seem to have thought ahead and set up a small kiosk for people to apply for Beacon here. Yeah, thinking about it, that does make more sense than to force people to pay the fee to get up there and apply, only to do it again for the exam.

"You, Sir!" a familiar Ryan-y voice calls out to me from the kiosk. "You seem the type seeking adventure and daring escapades! Am I correct?"

"If you are asking if I'm here to apply to Beacon," I say as I approach the rotund form of Professor Port, "then you are quite correct."

"Splendid! If I might have your name, young man!" Deftly picking up a pen, he leans over a timesheet.

"Vlad Dracul the Third."

He automatically starts writing... but hesitates halfway through. "Forgive me, was that Vlad or Brad?" he asks.

… He's lying. He knows what I said. "Vlad."

"I see! Excellent!" he bellows before lowly as if to himself he finishes, "Dracul... the... Third. Splendid! Mister Dracul, your exam will take place tomorrow! Or unless you need more time, but next week is the last week for applicants."

"That's quite alright. A day to prepare will be more than sufficient."

"Then we shall see you at 10AM tomorrow! I wish you the best of luck, young man!"

He recognised my name. I wish I knew whether that was infamous working against me or just being from a recognisable family.

-(-)-

​

I spent the rest of that day poorly. I admit, I got something to eat, went back to my hotel and spent most of the rest of the day on my scroll trying to figure out just how bad my infamy might hurt me this far away from its epicentre.

Honestly, there wasn't that much public information I could find about it. At least not much that publicly vilified me. A lot of it seemed more in line with a PR cover-up. The new mayor gave a statement that there was a bandit raid followed by a Grimm attack and that the 'stalwart defenders of Wallachia' drove off both and tragically the former mayor and his son were slain in the fighting.

… The coward didn't even f.u.c.k.i.n.g mention me. Just whitewashing everything to make the place seem safe and defended, when the one who did the defending they f.u.c.k.i.n.g exiled!

… No. This isn't helping.

What time is it? Six o'clock? Good enough. I'm going to bed.

​

-(-)-

​

The exam was simple enough, though it did take most of a day. A three hour written exam, followed by an interview with a member of staff (some professor I never heard of before), then waiting four hours for them to go through combat aptitude tests of every applicant there that day. I was early in the list since they went alphabetically but we weren't allowed to leave until everyone had gone through it.

The combat test was fun, if short. They had made it a mission open to upper year students to test the new applicants. A challenge but not an insurmountable one. I was up against some dude with an axe on an automatic rifle. Weird weapons, what a surprise. He opened with a spray of bullets that I deflected with rapid spins of my spear before tucking it in to my side and launching the grapple. He had moved to knock it aside only for it to open and grab his axe rifle thing. He refused to let go of it so he got dragged along with it when the cable retracted. Flipping over him as he came at me I dropped on him and placed my hand on the back of his neck, beginning to drain. The match was called there.

I have to assume he was going easy on me. Fair enough.

Passed though, so that's nice. Having the written test done first meant they had time to pass it through a marking machine and give us the results the same day. That's why we weren't allowed to leave.

But by the gods as if that stopped the process from being interminably boring. Still, it's over. And now I'm pretty antsy. I want to do something fun.

That seems like a nice spooooo...

Oh. Gee. I wonder which of my choices I'll run into next. Now that I'm looking for fun and run across "The Club".

I look left. I look right.

I don't see Bumblebee anywhere. Maybe it isn't tonight? Who the f.u.c.k am I kidding, of course it's tonight.

Still... If this is the opportunity it's giving me, I don't know what'll happen if I turn it down. Steeling myself for what might end up a fight, I enter the club like I own the place. Fun little perk of the noble background, you walk into every place like that.

Except when you come across women like Winter. My self-assurance comes from assumed superiority. Hers comes from actual superiority.

Of course, as I hear the music playing in the club, feel the thump thump of the bass drum through the floor I remember an important fact I had forgotten. I kind of hate clubs. Music too loud for conversation, no light beyond irritating strobes, implausibly expensive drinks...

And dancing. Old me was not a dancer. New me... Well, he can dance but it's more on the sophisticated side of dancing than the flailing and dry humping I remember from old me's few club experiences.

Still, maybe this one isn't so bad. Plenty of light, music is loud but not too loud, music is a mile better than the squealing synth tones I expect from this kind of place.

I stride over to the bar, bypassing the dance floor entirely. Junior isn't in a hurry as he wanders over to get my order. It's a Thursday night so not exactly busy. "What'll it be?"

"Vodka lemon." The drink of my people. Although... "On second thought, you wouldn't have anything in a mead, would you?"

"Heh, not that kind of place, buddy."

"A shame. Vodka lemon it is then."

As he makes up my drink we actually get in a pretty friendly conversation about beard care. The brands here aren't the same so I could use some suggestions on products to try. He tells me he uses a brand called Handsome Jack (of course) but that it's more intended for moisturising and softness. That for a fancy goatee like mine, I'd be better off going with their other line, Handsome Geoff, more designed for styling and shaping.

"Now some folks will tell you they're all the same stuff but I find– Aww, hell. Excuse me, I gotta see someone." He hops over the bar the bar to the end of it where a ginger woman in a ohhh, hello Roman. Hello lady Roman. There's not much I can call out that's different about her at a glance beyond the obvious swell of her chest. I think her coat is longer than her male counterpart's and she has a softer jawline.

Let's be real. Roman was a pretty dude in the first place. Not much needed changing.

She and Junior look to be arguing about something but the music is a little loud for me to make it out from this far away. By body language, it looks like Junior gives in and he flags down some of his suit mooks. Roman tips her hat to him and jaunts away with a skip in her step.

As Junior slumps over the bar next to me, a familiar song begins to play.

I look to the entrance. If memory serves Roman leaving would be the cue for...

And there she is. H.i.p.s swaying in time with the beat as she walks, Yang Xiao Long enters the Club movements declaring to everyone who sees her that yes, they really do want to tap that. And she knows it. Her path takes her right past me, offering me a wink as I continue to stare, captivated.

"Strawberry sunrise. No ice. Oh! And one of those little umbrellas!" she orders from another bartender.

"Aren't you a little young to be in a place like this, Blondie?"

Should I intervene?

"Aren't you a little old to have a name like Junior?"

I should probably intervene. I kind of like this place.

"So you know who I am," Junior says with suspicion. "You got a name, Sweetheart?"

"Yes, Junior, I've got several. But instead of 'Sweetheart', you can just call me S–"

Right as her arm snaps down to take a fistful of Junior's bait and tackle, I grab her wrist mid-movement. "Let's not do that, shall we?"

"Oh, but I want to, though," she pouts while glaring at me. With her other hand she breaks my grip. Thankfully, Junior had the good sense to back off a couple steps so she can't just do it again. She looses a frustrated sigh, stomping up to him again as he shields his gr.a.p.es with an arm. "People say you know everything. Tell me where she is," she holds up a scroll showing a picture of a younger Raven, "and I won't trash this place."

"Oh, for gods' sake!" I slap two hundred lien on the bar. "Honey and vinegar, Miss Whatever-Your-Name-Is! You came into a place like this and you think threatening these people will get you anywhere?" She's pouting again and looking a little sulky to be honest. I turn back to Junior. "Please answer the lady's question."

He sighs. "Look, buddy, you seem like a decent guy. So I'll take your money but I'll put it towards running you a tab. I don't know who that woman is. Never seen her before in my life!"

"So much for your way–"

"And you'll let us know if you find out anything," I talk over her.

"Long as she doesn't break any of my shit for no reason, sure," he says in the tone of this should be obvious but feeling like it needed saying anyway, before he beats feet to get away from what might have become a crazy and kind of stupid situation.

"Strawberry sunrise," the bartender announces, sliding it over to Yang.

"Put it on my tab," I tell him, now apparently having a tab.

Yang takes the drink and sips on it, leaving the little pink paper umbrella in it as she does so. "Well you just stomped all over my rhythm didn't you, Goat-Face?" Still pouty.

"After how you took control of the room just by walking in I'm surprised I have to tell you anything about first impressions. Junior and I bonded over beard care tips. You tried to give him first hand experience of a nutcracker. I've never found myself in particular need of an information broker but I have suspicion they're not the kind of people for whom you want to get on their bad side."

"Who cares?" she shrugs. "He didn't have what I wanted anyway."

"No, but now he has information on you. And he'll be less likely to sell it if he likes you."

She seems to mull that thought over. "If he's afraid of me, it'd have the same effect, though, right?"

… Geeze, like mother like daughter. "True. But fear is easier to turn against you and is something that needs to be maintained."

"Ugh. Whatever. If you're so keen to stop me busting Junior's fat head–" I note Junior having returned behind the bar is now patting at his head and checking his reflection in the drinks cabinet glass, "– then I think you owe me a good time."

I raise an eyebrow as though asking silently if she's serious about that bullshit logic, but shrug. "Fair enough. Would you like another?" I gesture at her glass, empty save for the little pink umbrella.

"Hmmmm... Nope!" she denies with a pop. "You and I are gonna dance!"

… Oh boy.

I have the presence of mind to drop my own drink on the bar before Yang grabs my arm and drags me onto the dance floor. The thought crosses my mind to do something fancy but this isn't about me. As Yang said, this is about giving her a good time. So instead of showing off, I stick close and make sure I'm dancing with Yang, doing my best to sync my movements with hers as she gyrates her h.i.p.s. Without thinking I put my hands on her waist as some of my dance lessons taught me.

"Hmmm, you think you're getting somewhere, don't you?" she hums, leaning close to my ear. "She turns around and moves in closer so my hands circle around her bare midriff, grinding her ass against me, "Huh," she says with a sudden smile, "Maybe you are."

Even so, she's in no rush, holding me out there on the dance floor for what feels like either five minutes or an hour. Changing from full on grinding to just dancing close, but at all times she has wandering hands feeling me up. Taking the invitation her actions give, my own hands begin wandering over her thighs, her wonderfully full ass, her stomach, but never venturing further up or between her legs. Cupping her ass while dancing is one thing but groping her tits is probably a bit much and I don't want to mess this up, no matter how much I want to get my hands on them.

She leads me off of the dancefloor and into a hallway. "Come with me," she says in a low, husky tone.

Sweet gods I intend to.

We stop halfway down that hallway and she holds me against the wall, leaning up and pulling me down to shove her tongue down my throat. All the while she keeps an eye on the doors opposite us.

… The restroom doors.

Wait, is she really? Yang, you dirty girl!

What it seems she was watching for, is for the women's restroom to be empty as a few seconds after some girls left it she shoves me inside and into a stall, the momentum forcing me to take a seat in it. Without ceremony, Yang gets on her knees and pulls down my pants to just over my thighs, my c.o.c.k springing out ready for action. She leans in to nuzzle against it. "Gods, I've had this monster grinding against me all night! Bigger is always better, right?" she asks with a wink as she opens her jacket and pulls up her top, revealing her soft braless b.r.e.a.s.ts that jiggle as they pop free.

"You've been avoiding them all night but I know you've wanted to feel them." She wraps her tits around my shaft as she cups them, rubbing them along it. Her mouth suckles at the head, letting out copious amounts of drool as lubricant. "How's this? My fat tits wrapped around your huge c.o.c.k!"

"Gods!" I exclaim for lack of anything at all going through my brain beyond mind-bending pleasure.

"Don't lose your cool yet, stud!" she warns between sucks. "This is just the opener!"

She releases my c.o.c.k and stands, turning around as she drops her shorts to her ankles, leaning against the stall door. Reaching back with both hands, she pulls open her weeping core invitingly. "Give it to me! Pound my needy p.u.s.s.y with all you've got! I can take it!"

I certainly f.u.c.k.i.n.g hope so because she's primed the pump so hard I can't hold back anymore. I stand and grab her hip with one hand while guiding my c.o.c.k into her entrance with the other. I ease it in for a few inches- "Come on, I said pound me–! Ah!"

And I ram it home.

Secure inside her as I could be, I place my other hand on her hip and slam into her without remorse, exactly as she asked for.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! This is! The best! So much! So full! Ahhhhn!" Her p.u.s.s.y convulses around my length, trying to milk me to completion. But I'm far from done. I give her no time to breathe, picking up the pace and the force of my thrusts, the stall shaking as Yang gets pushed into it over and over, pressing her bountiful tits into the plastic, a f.u.c.k-drunk look on her face.

I revel in the feeling of so obviously satisfying a woman. As my head tilts back and I savour the ecstasy, I get a surprise. Two identical faces peering down over the stall wall. Feeling mischievous and having already been caught, I grin and wink at them as I spank Yang's right ass cheek.

"Ah!"

Then the left.

"Ah! Moooore..."

Their already flushed faces somehow go even redder as they go back behind the wall.

Well the lady asked for more.

"Ah! Thank you! Thank you! Yes! Ahhh!" She squeezes down on me again. I feel like I'm close but I want to see if I can coax one more out of her before I finish. I up the pace again, the door rattling again, and reach one arm around her leg and play with her clit as the other arm grabs a handful of titflesh and works her n.i.p.p.l.e.

"Mmmm! Just a little... Ahhh... Ahhh!" She's quieter this time but I feel the telltale signs all the same. I finally let myself go and flood her p.u.s.s.y with white. Finishing as she does only makes it better as she coaxes more and more out of me until I'm spent. Pulling out, I let go of her h.i.p.s, not realising at some point she had been relying on me to hold her up as much as she was leaning on the door. Her legs give out as she slumps down and folds sideways, p.u.s.s.y leaking my c.u.m onto the tile floor.

That is a satisfying image. Yang Xiao Long, leaking my c.u.m in a club bathroom stall, blissed out expression on her face.

I start cleaning myself up a little and when she comes around I help Yang do the same. Walking on unsteady legs as we leave the restroom, she demands my scroll. Handing it over she does something then hands it back. I wink at the twins as I walk past. The one in white mimes a phone gesture, the other looks astonished and they begin what looks like an urgent conversation.

Soon enough, we're in the parking lot next to Yang's bike. "So! That was a thing!" she says breathlessly.

"A great thing," I agree.

"We should do it again sometime."

"I would very much enjoy that."

She flips a leg over her back and settles into the seat, donning sunglasses.

"Oh, wait!" I suddenly realise. "What's your name?"

She grins. "Oh, right! My name's–" Whatever she said is lost to the sound of the revving of Bumblebee. She blows me a kiss and rides off into the night.

Hot damn.

If I didn't already know her name that would have been a really cool move.

Pulling out my scroll I look for what I half expect her to have done, finding a new contact in it. Listed under 'Best Lay I've Ever Had'.

Ha! Cheeky bitch.​

Chapter 3

Walking home from 'The Club' to my shitty hotel in a slightly rough part of town, I probably should have seen this coming. That this might be how I run across one of my choices.

I don't know when it happened, when she had taken it, but I see the pink, brown and cream form of Neopolitan walking ahead of me playing with a scroll. My scroll. "Hey!"

She had been waiting for me to notice. She raises the scroll, "Hey" typed out on it without her having pushed another button.

"Give that back!" I shout. And to my surprise, and from the look on her face hers too, she starts to do exactly that.

… Command. In all the banging s.e.xy ladies I forgot they were giving me superpowers.

For whatever reason, whether because Neo has a strong will or because I wasn't especially assertive (even I didn't believe she would do it when I said it), she pulls it back into herself at the last moment. Frowning down at the little device, then up at me, the frown becomes a smirk, her heterochrmatic eyes swapping colours. She dances back as I reach for it, dexterously typing away on it as she does. Flipping it over, she shows me the message. "Play a game?"

"What kind of game?"

Tap tap tap tap tap. Flip. "Try to take it!" Grin.

"And what do I get if I win?"

The grin drops and she looks at me like I'm stupid before waggling the scroll at me.

"I can buy another scroll." They're not exactly expensive and I'd be buying a basic model. Even with better eyes to use them I'm still not overly enamoured with the bells and whistles of smartphones. There isn't even a version of Fate GO here!

She taps her lips with the scroll. Suddenly, her eyes sparkle. Raising a fist up to the side of her mouth, she digs her tongue into her cheek, making the recognisable gesture for a blowjob.

… Wow. Neo's thing is way easier than Yang's was. All I have to do is... Steal something. From Neo.

One of the most agile and tricky fighters shown in the series.

… Okay. Comment withdrawn. This will be way harder.

With a flourish of movement, Neo brings out her parasol, still hidden as a cane. She twirls it around her hand while her other hand pockets my scroll in her cleavage. Because of course she bloody does. In response I flick out my spear expanded to its full size and twirl it through my hands, to which she rolls her eyes even as her smirk shows some teeth.

She has no reason to come to me so it's up to me to start this. I know how she'll deal with the grapple, just opening her umbrella. So I rush her instead. She'll have some sort of trick, whether the umbrella or–

Or her semblance as when I move to swat at her with the butt of my spear the image shatters like glass. Of course. Looking around for a sign of pink I glance up and see her leaning over a fire escape, waving down at me, scroll poking dangerously out of her cleavage in danger of falling out.

I scoff. As if she thinks she's the only one who can get around like that. My spear points above her and the tip fires off and expands into its grapple, latching on to the escape a floor above her. I let the retracting cable carry me up, hooking it off of its catch and letting the weapon come back together. Neo didn't wait to catch my feet with her face (and frankly I'd be a little disappointed if she had). She backed off into the escape as I passed and then used the hook of her parasol to swing herself further and further up the escape, sparing me a grin as she kept going. As I clambered after her, any attempts to catch or disrupt her ascent were fended off with almost dismissive effort.

At some point this had turned from a fight to a race.

Her vaulting over the final railing turned into a cartwheel onto the roof proper, filpping acrobatically over to an air conditioning unit she re-purposed as a throne. One leg folded over the other, she pulled the scroll out again and waved it tauntingly.

Yup. That pose is just as hot as I remember.

… Alright. How do I win this...

…

I don't know how to win this! Dammit, all my stuff is for close range except the one thing I made that she can dismiss easily! My speed and agility are great but she's still better than me in both!

… Okay. Calm down. She may be better but she's just running away. She's not interested in fighting, it's just a game of keep-away. So it's on me to do something to trip her up.

Fine.

Firing the grapple past her once again to her eye-rolling boredom, I fling myself towards her at speed, only for her to dodge to the side with another flashy cartwheel followed by sticking her tongue out. However this time I stop the retraction of the cable partway through. The momentum pushes me onward but without the cable pulling me in, I instead start swinging around the horizontal pole I had grappled. Coming around in a circle I loose the release the grapple from the pole, sending myself directly at Neo even as I fire another grapple line. Smiling now, she backflips over me as I'm about to pass but knowing she would dodge and not being at the mercy of momentum, I kick off the ground to catch her in midair, tackling her out of the sky. I don't try to reach for the scroll. Not yet. Instead with the full contact I have I activate my semblance, feeling no guilt since she used hers first. She gasps voicelessly as strength flows out of her and I keep going for as long as I keep contact. Finally, weakly, she kicks off of me, bouncing and rolling on the next roof over. I land on my feet, shaking out my coat as I do. Neo rolls to her feet and checks for the scroll. Still there. She frowns at me.

"You're wondering why I didn't take it?" I ask to a hesitant nod. "Because I imagine you would have stopped me. But you couldn't fend off my semblance so easily could you? So..." I let a satisfied grin cross my face. "Shall we continue the chase?"

Neo looks mulish but she knows as well as I do how that would end now. She could keep running but she no longer has the advantage over me. She would tire, or just not be fast enough anymore. And she would lose. So instead, she spreads her arms out and flicks the fingers inward in a 'come get it then' gesture.

I strut over and pluck my property from between her b.r.e.a.s.ts. Opening it to check it's in good nick, a message displays "Let's play again!"

"STOP." I bark. Looking up I see Neo halfway across the roof. "Turn."

Her smile screams innocence, but the same kind of innocence of a kid caught breaking the rules.

"We had a deal, " I remind her.

She gestures to the scroll.

"The other part of the deal."

She looks hesitant.

"Come here."

She walks back over to me, fingering her weapon but doing nothing with it beyond that.

"We had a deal," I say again. "You're going to honour it." I point down.

She lets out a silent sigh, pointing at herself twice then opening her mouth wide.

"Yes. You and your big mouth," I agree with a smirk, pushing her down by her shoulders. "Ready to put it to use?"

She shoots me a sour look as she undoes my pants but it's replaced with familiar awe and trepidation as she pulls out my slowly stiffening length. She looks up at me and shakes her head.

"If you try and welch again I might have to get a little mean," I warn.

She scowls at me as she takes my d.i.c.k and starts stroking it roughly with both hands, probably wanting this over quickly. As it reaches full mast she takes the head in her mouth and begins to suck hard on it, tickling the slit with her tongue as her hands continue working back and forth.

Neo is short. Very short. So as she sucks my d.i.c.k it's not exaggerated that at her less than five feet of height compared to my well over six and a half, she is quite literally going up on me, having to point my c.o.c.k downwards towards her mouth to reach it comfortably.

I put a hand behind her head and pull her closer, sliding more meat into her mouth even as she works her jaw as wide as she can to take it. Her tongue slides along the underside of it as it invades further and further, finally reaching the entrance to her throat.

And no further.

Not only do I not especially want to really hurt her with this blowjob, she has a hell of a gag reflex based on how hard she coughed and spluttered as soon as my d.i.c.k got close. Her eyes go from irritated to pleading, asking me not to do that again. I loose my hold on her head and instead start stroking her hair softly. "Okay, sorry, go at your own pace."

We'll work on that in future. Hell, if my bet on how this blowjob ends pays out I bet she'll be happy to.

I let her continue working, dragging her pretty pink lips back and forth over my c.o.c.k, tongue swirling, massaging around it as her hands work along the parts she can't otherwise reach. After my encounter with Yang less than an hour ago this experience was never going to be a short one so I just let her do her thing until I feel the familiar churning sensation. I elect not to tell her and hide it from her as best I can.

The moment comes upon me and I clench as once again my balls empty into a girl, shooting white streams into Neo's unexpecting mouth. I look down to watch her reaction. She flinches as the first blast hits her tongue, pulling away reflexively and letting the second paint a white line down her forehead.

Then her eyes widen and she practically inhales my c.o.c.k to catch the next few sprays of my now Delicious seed. Even as the euphoria fades and I know I have none left, she sucks on my c.o.c.k head and licks at the slit to get at the last dregs. Finding none, she pulls off and wipes the c.u.m from her face and licks it off her hand.

"It's nice to be appreciated," I tell her as I offer her a c.o.c.ky smile.

Her eyes flick up to me and back to her hand, realising what she just did. Getting off her knees, she stumbles back and starts walking backwards away from me.

"Let's play again!" I shout as she flees off of the roof.

Three down, three to go.

-(-)-

​

An old warehouse.

A little cliché for a villain hideout but none of the occupants particularly cared. The place wasn't in use currently. Some sort of seasonal business purchased it and basically left it to rot when they didn't need it. An acceptable choice for laying low while nefarious schemes came together.

Neo entered the hideout lost in thought, so barely registered the obstruction when Cinder Fall blocked her path. "You seem troubled," Cinder purred, "Something on your mind?"

Neo c.o.c.ked her head at her 'boss', honestly wondering why she would seem troubled. Shaking her head she pulled out her own scroll. "Had fun."

"Oh...? What kind of fun?"

Instead of answering in words, she pulled up a picture of her recent encounter.

"Vlad the Impaler? What about him?" Cinder asked before realisation dawned. "He's here? In Vale?"

"Had fun."

"Why is he here?"

"Beacon." The mute girl had had plenty of time to go through his scroll, including finding his new student ID.

"Vlad the Impaler, Vampire of Wallachia," Cinder asked incredulously, "has come to Vale to join a Huntsman Academy?"

A nod.

Cinder let out a low, malevolent laugh. "Oh my dear, I must steal you from dear Roma if you keep finding golden opportunities like this one!"

Taking the scroll from her subbordinate to get a better look at the picture, she purred, "Let's see if we can invite him for a chat, shall we?"​