Wheey first fanfic!

At first it was an idea for a oneshot, but then the idea grew…

To think that this started with me listening to The Hunger Never Dies by Ravenous

I hope you like reading this!

Please note: English is not my first language, so i could be making some mistakes.

Have fun!

For Want Of A Knight

It was a nice afternoon at Beacon Academy. Birds were singing, the sun shone…

And two students from Atlas conversed with each other.

"Did you see his reaction though?! Oh Oum, that was hilarious," one Fuchsia Sarn laughed.

"I know, right?" her partner and boyfriend, Shwartz Kutte, breathed out. "He just shut down, like…" He imitated a computer shutdown noise. ''That was priceless!''

"To think that loser actually thought I liked him! What do I look like, some stupid, impressionable wallflower?," the pink-haired huntress-in-training exclaimed in near-sadistic glee.

"Best prank ever!," the raven-haired Atlesian concurred.

Strutting through the hallways of the Academy, they encountered a peculiar figure. Clad in regular uniform and towering over the both of them, Cardin Winchester looked at the both of them in a bemused fashion.

"Ey, you," he greeted Fuchsia nonchalantly, "Aren't you Jauney-boys girlfriend he told me about?"

Fuchsia looked at him before bursting into laughter. A obnoxious sound reminding one of a motor starting, but in reverse. "Oh yeah, that weakling. I never was interested in him in the first place!"

Cardin raised an eyebrow while inconspicuously putting his hand into his pocket. "Pardon?"

"You heard me. I only pretended to be interested in that idiot to see him break and cry."

"Shame he just shut down," Shwartz chimed in. "Oh well, that was fun to see anyways," he giggled, remembering the blonde knight's expression.

Cardin remained calm outwardly. After an incident at Forever Fall, he turned his life around and, after apologizing, bothered to get to know the comparatively weak Huntsman. He found him to be a surprisingly cool dude with a metric fuckton of various talents not necessarily related to being a Huntsman. Looking back, Cardin had chided himself for being, essentially, an immature prick.

Thus, the Winchester scion was all too gleeful to reveal a little something.

"You know that you guys just signed your own death warrant, right?"

The two asshats looked at him, bewildered expressions on their faces.

"Yeah, see, the guy you two were putting down because it tickled your privates or whatever has quite a few loyal friends."

"Yeah, well we don't-"

"I also recorded your little confession there", Cardin confessed, showing the scroll in his pocket.

"So?," an all too confident Shwartz asked.

'Was I such a cocky fuck back then?,' Cardin asked himself, before pushing the thought aside.

"You don't know what team he is on, do you?"

"Probably some weak ass team", Fuchsia shrugged, indifferent.

'Oh, this is going to be a blast.'

"You'll see. Though I suggest you start running away and hiding."

Shwartz rolled his eyes at the apparently empty threat. "Whatever. Come on, babe."

"It's your funeral."

"Whatever," Fuchsia repeated.

Cardin shrugged. 'Can't say I didn't warn them'.

/-/

"Weirdo," Fuchsia sneered, blowing the encounter off. "do you think he is friends with that loser?

"Probably his teammate," answered her boyfriend, shrugging. "Dunno what he meant though."

"Probably nothi-"

A sound rent through Beacon. Nay, a cacophony of sounds. Screams. Screams and bellows of grief, agony and, predominantly, rage. A symphony to haunt the dreams and nightmares of the two forevermore.

Pure, unadulterated rage, expressed either in wordless screams or various colorful phrases. All of the words holding the same message.

Time to whoop somebodies ass.

"The fuck was that?," Shwartz asked, slightly intimidated.

"Probably that guy, trying to scare us." She faked a guffaw. "Please. Everyone and their old grandparents can see that that was so fake."

The wall exploded, as if commanded.

The person stepping, no, jumping out of the hole had a long luscious mane, billowing brilliantly like a flame.

This luscious mane framed a face warped in sheer wrath, eyes glowing a menacing red.

Yang Xiao Long, the blonde brawler herself, considered the third strongest in her year.

And she was out for their blood.

"YOU!", she bellowed, charging forward.

It was not skill that saved them from the devastating punch, but rather sheer instinct and the need to survive.

They barely ducked under the swing, pure instinct and common sense driving them to run the fuck away from the buxom beauty.

"HOLY SHIT!" the Atlesians screamed running down the hallway, as fast as was possible, away from her.

Another wall exploded, way too close for comfort.

This time, a ginger girl with a massive warhammer stood in the hole. Her smile was far too wide to be considered friendly and did not reach her eyes. Those shone with a barely concealed bloodlust.

Behind her stood her partner, a ninja in all but name. Usually incredibly stoic, his face sported a grim frown, eyes hardened and fixated towards them.

"HEEERE'S NORA!" the hammer-wielder proclaimed.

The Atlesians now ran even faster. Now there were three people on their tail. All they had done was playing a prank on someone!

Far too scared to be thinking rationally, they ignored a black glyph in front of them.

A black ribbon shot out, binding Fuchsias leg, as Shwartz was flying upward thanks to the trap on the ground.

'You have GOT to be shitting me right now.'

None other than Blake Belladonna, the black clad ninja, was binding Fuchsia's leg right now. The Atlesian Huntress-in-Training barely managed to free her leg from the confines, before the blade attached to the ribbon smashed down on where she laid.

Lucky her that the ribbon loosened when Blake approached.

To put the final bun on the shit sandwich supreme, Weiss Schnee, heiress of the Schnee Dust Company and the second best fighter in Beacon, approached the two, ice cold glare leveled at them and rapier in hand.

It took the two all the willpower they had left not to freeze in place and run away, further down the hall.

And of course, if these three were at the same place…

...then the leader of Team RWBY was not far away.

Sharpened glare in her silver eyes, sharpened edge of the weapon in her hands, primed for a swipe, Ruby Rose stepped out of a cloud of rose petals.

The two rolled over the swipe, Crescent Rose missing them by a hair's breadth.

"Split up!" Shwartz screamed, taking the left at an upcoming intersection.

Fuchsia, all too panicked to register her partner's cowardice, took the right on a gut feeling.

The girls and the sole boy all charged after her.

"Success!" cheered the coward. "Sorry, babe, but you gotta learn how to handle yourself."

A staff smacked him upside the head.

Shwartz, seeing stars, whipped around to look at his assailant.

One particularly irate monkey faunus scowled down at him.

"Found'cha, asshole!"

His teammates were not far behind.

This just wasn't fair.

/-/

What was happening?

The day was beginning so nicely. A nice breakfast, breaking some insignificant nobodies' heart and a nice walk around the foreign school had devolved in a flight for her life.

Team RWBY, an entire team of premiere huntresses, was chasing her around, followed by some hammer psycho and her twink boyfriend.

And it got WORSE.

One Arslan Atlan from Mistral and her teammate, Reese Chloris, had joined the hunt and started throwing things at Fuchsia.

Benches, trashcans, bullets via the help of the usual bullet propulsion systems that were colloquially known as 'guns'.

You know, the works.

As if that was not enough, other projectiles joined in chasing after the running girl.

Blasts of wind, throwing knives and fuckmothering crossbow bolts, courtesy of Team NDGO, had joined the fray.

Running for her dear life, her stamina waning, she was resorting to something else. A simple plan, born out of pure desperation rather than cunning.

She jumped out of the window.

From the third floor.

Fuchsia grabbed onto the ledge under the window, smashed through the window below that one and …

Hid in a trash can.

"WHERE IS THAT BITCH?!" the voice of the brawler screamed out from the floor above.

"Are the bullheads on lockdown?" the catlike ninja asked in return.

"CRDL, Yatsu and Fox are guarding the docks. These two are not leaving Beacon unharmed!" The heiresses furious voice could be heard.

"Search the school!" Ruby demanded. "I want her FOUND!"

Meanwhile, in her hiding place, Fuchsia was crying in silence, though this time not out of fear.

Her overly expensive clothes had been in contact with some gum wrappers and various other remains of eaten snacks and were basically ruined.

/-/

Shwartz Kutte was running for dear life.

The entirety of Team SSSN was on his ass. Weapons out and ready to bring the pain, they were chasing the callous coward throughout the school.

A glimmer of hope seemed to shine on the proverbial horizon, however, as he saw a pair of bunny ears and some fashionable glasses, respectively attached to two second-year huntresses.

The bunny faunus was a shy one and would definitely be confused enough to at least stall the group of idiots long enough so Shwartz could hide.

The hope did not last long.

Upon seeing him, The faunus cracked an uncharacteristically large, vicious grin, her arm reaching behind her back.

Beside her, the fashionista engaged her infamous handbag-gatling hybrid. How exactly she managed to ram that thing in there was a mystery for the ages.

Shame he did not have the time to ponder the wonder of the piece of engineering, as its muzzles were pointed exactly at him.

Alongside a copy of the same weapon, shimmering blue and held in the hands of a very bloodthirsty bunny.

"DIE!" she screamed, all too gleefully, as the barrels rotated.

"Ey, stop it! You're gonna shoot us!" one of the boy band behind Shwartz yelled out.

He sped up.

Barely slipping between the huntresses, narrowly avoiding their devastating swings, the Atlesian leapt down the hall.

A somewhat satisfying clang of metal informed him how the two huntresses were now entangled via their weapons.

"Dammit, Vel! Call off your weapon!"

"Way ahead of ya. Let's get the cunt!"

Mildly jarring, hearing the cute bunny faunus cursing like that.

Shwartz had, however, some fresh and new problems arising.

Or rather, blocking off his path.

"End of the line, fucko", Brawnz Ni snarled, fists ready. Behind him, his team was all too ready to bring the hurt. The sniper girl, May Zedong, had her weapon aiming right at the fugitive's forehead.

Shwartz said nothing. Instead, he decided to flee…

Right towards them.

Caught by surprise, BRNZ did little but gawk at the sudden brazenness of their prey.

Shwartz laughed in triumph, even more so when he recognized the figure approaching the gaggle of students.

Glynda Goodwitch, deputy headmistress, combat instructor and feared disciplinarian of Beacon Academy was walking towards them, glare in place and riding crop in hand.

Finally, the goose chase was over. Finally, those psychopaths would be punished, he could relax at long last!

"Mr Kutte, I presume," the fearsome teacher spoke up to the student before her. The adressed was coughing, out of breath and stamina from the hunt. His every muscle screaming for rest.

"Yes, ma'am. You see, these people suddenly started chasing me for no reason-"

"Bullshit!"

"Mr Porfirio, language!"

Nolan stiffened. "Yes, ma'am!"

Shwartz wanted to laugh. He was saved! These idiots would get their dues.

"Mr Kutte, do you have an explanation for this?"

"Ma'am, no, ma'am."

Roy Stallion piped up. "Miss Goodwitch, with all due respect, that guy is lying through his teeth."

Shwartz grinned. They had no proof of that. None whatsoever!

"I am well aware."

…

what.

Before he could register the words in full, Shwartz Kutte found himself careening through the window towards the city of Vale.

/-/

'Are they gone?'

Silently and shaking with disgust at her situation within her hiding place, Fuchsia Sarn emerged from the trash can, where she rightfully belonged.

At least, that was the obvious opinion of her pursuers, who were nowhere in sight.

The fugitive would rather be litterally – pardon – literally anywhere else than Beacon right now. Except that she was trapped like a mouse in a cage, with six people guarding the damn Bullhead docks.

Fuchsia heard steps and froze, slowly looking towards their source.

She wanted to break down and cry in relief right then and there. Pyrrha Nikos, famed champion of Mistral, nicknamed the Invincible Girl, was looking at her, obvious worry in her expression.

"Dear Oum, what happened? Are you okay?"

Does it look like I am? Is what she wanted to say right now, but refrained from doing so. Her savior had arrived, and she would not insult her like this.

"Not really, no," Fuchsia quipped. "I played a prank on someone and it kinda went wrong, so a bunch of people were chasing me." This was close enough to the truth that the red spartan would not question it. "I swear, it was a harmless prank!" Okay, that one was a lie, but she did not need to know that one, now, did she?

Fuchsia bent over to catch the breath she had to hold for the longest fucking time. She breathed in and out deeply, hands resting on her knees, facing the ground.

"Truly?" the champion inquired.

'Yes, dammit!' she wanted to yell, but wheezed instead as an answer.

A hand found her shoulder. It calmed the runaway's frayed nerves with a gentle squeeze.

"I somehow find it hard to believe that deceiving a young man by expressing romantic interest in him, only to break his heart after a while, to be a 'harmless prank', as you put it."

Fuchsia froze. The grip on her shoulder tightened.

'How did she know that?'

"Did you really think that breaking Jaune's heart would go unpunished?"

The callous girl was thrown against the wall.

"MY partner?"

There was no warmth left in her voice, only unmistakable venom.

"MY team leader?"

'Are you kidding me?! That guy was her partner and her leader?!'

"The love of my life? The one and only man whom I ever desired?!" The champion was screaming now.

'Has the world gone mad?' was all Fuchsia thought before her brain froze in fear.

Peering over the shoulders of the amazon and standing to her sides were the scowling, sneering and apocalyptically angry faces of her various pursuers. To really drive the point home of how fucked she was right now, three others had joined the gaggle of hunters.

One guy with grey hair wearing a jumpsuit, who, in the visiting student's opinion, looked like an angry chicken.

One girl with green hair and chocolate skin, glaring at her out of deep red eyes.

And what was, perhaps, the pinnacle of dark beauty, peering down at her with amber eyes full of contempt and sheer malice.

"You came to the wrong school, bitch," the short ginger girl declared with sadistic glee.

/-/

Battered and bruised, a youth with black hair stumbled into a bar.

Shwartz barely survived the onslaught, thanks to his Aura – which broke after the impact in a large waste disposal unit.

The only saving grace from that was that is was filled with discarded packaging, cushioning his fall without making a stink.

He did not expect to be flung out a window today, less so by the resident disciplinarian. Even more unexpectedly, said disciplinarian was just as out for blood as the other students.

"What will it be, kid?" the bearded barman asked in a gruff voice.

"Something strong. Vodka," grumbled the student. Two young women noticed him sitting at the bar, looking sullen.

"What happened to you?" one of them, clad in red, asked him.

'Twins? Really? Well, sorry Fuchsia, baby, but Shwartz is getting lucky tonight!'

"Prank gone wrong. Don't really wanna talk about it."

"Awww," cooed the one dressed in white, looking at him in an anything but innocent manner. "Not even a little bit?"

"Now, now, girls. Let's leave the man be," a man piped up.

Shwartz turned to look at the guy who effectively cock blocked him. The gentleman was finely dressed in a white trench coat, a dashing hat adorning his ginger-haired head. His neck decorated with an orange ascot that complimented his overall color palette.

Along with the guyliner, that dude was the most dapper motherfucker the criminal underworld had ever seen.

Not that the Atlesian knew. Or shared the opinion. The guyliner was a bit much.

By his side was a rather small girl. Well, small in stature. The curves on her immediately told Shwartz that she was done growing.

'A shortstack? Guy hit the jackpot.'

The next thing the young runaway noticed was the strangely colored hair. A chocolate brown with a streak of pink in it, complimenting her heterochromatic eyes of the same colors. Overall a very pretty girl.

Her expression, however, was unsettling. A malicious smirk with half-lidded eyes directed solely at him.

"Erm..."

"Don't mind Neo. She's in a stabby mood."

Stabby?

"Frankly, so am I."

What?

"After all, some punk decided to piss on the only guy in town who appreciates a well clothed gentleman such as I."

"Well, um..."

"Said guy is also real good friends with Neo here. He makes Sorbets that are to kill for."

"Kill?"

"Did I stutter?" The man faced him, glaring. "Did I, punk?"

Uh oh.

The twins suddenly had their weapons out of nowhere, one with claws, the other showing off some stilettos with a kickboxing stance. Neo's smirk turned into a toothy grin, one of her eyes changing color to pink to match the other.

And the barman? Instead of doing the sensible thing and calling the police, he whipped out a club that could double as a rocket launcher.

Judging by his luck so far, it very well was.

"Scheisse," Shwartz whimpered in the old mantle tongue.

/-/

It was a good morning, Ozpin found.

The headmaster of Beacon Academy and secretly immortal body surfing wizard enjoyed one of humanity's greatest inventions on that beautiful morning.

Coffee.

The elevator chimed. Ozpin secretly hoped it wasn't Glynda, here to pester him with things that could either wait till noon or be completely ignored.

The lucky stars seemed to shine for Ozpin. Doctor Bartholomew Oobleck strutted through the elevator doors in his usual hasty fashion. The headmaster hoped that he was here to share a new or rare brand of coffee with him.

These hopes were dashed when Ozpin beheld the expression on his fellow coffee lover; concern and fear evident on his face.

"Is something wrong, Bart?"

"Well, yes. Did you hear the commotion yesterday?"

"I did." Truthfully, the headmaster could have gone without it. The noise seemed to be everywhere.

"Apparently, two of the Atlesian students decided it would be a fun idea to play a trick on Mr Arc."

Oh boy. Mr Arc was, unbeknownst to the young man himself, one of the most wanted singles in his year, perhaps even in Beacon history.

Unknown to Mr Arc was also that his secret was not so secret anymore. Someone had, while he was shopping in Vale, leaked his fraudulent transcripts to the public in Beacon.

After a brief discussion of the topic, the students seemed to have agreed that, if he was competent enough to survive this far, that they could give Mr Arc the benefit of the doubt.

So they opted to train him.

What they found out that way was that the blonde knight absorbed knowledge like a sponge, learning much faster than anyone else.

The fact that he remained humble throughout, even cheering the others on and occasionally offering surprising insights, ended up endearing him greatly to the Beacon students as well as the transfers from all over Remnant.

Ozpin, to his great elation, found the Huntresses and Huntsmen of the next generation to not give a shit over someone's lack of training, thus not acting like spoiled children.

The wizard noted to himself that only the students who had been present at Beacon during the leak knew of Mr Arc's transcripts in the first place.

"Why exactly did they target him? And what, pray tell did they do?"

Out of malice and sadism, apparently.

Ozpin found himself disappointed in the two. "Where are they now?

Oobleck explained: "Mr Arc has successfully recuperated from the shock, as far as I could judge. As for the other two, Miss Sarn had to be admitted to Beacon's infirmary for intensive care."

Well, damn.

"Mr Kutte was found naked in Vale in the early morning hours. He was tarred and feathered and was crying about a, and I quote verbatim, 'scary-ass midget'."

Ozpin fought back his amusement at hearing his colleague say that, though it did not answer the most pertinent question.

"What has you so scared, then?"

The history buff swallowed hard.

"It is not known to Beacon at large yet, Sir…" a pause. "But I fear that the armistice is now null and void."

Faced with this revelation, the eloquent headmaster found the most succinct words to describe the current situation.

"Fuck me sideways."