#its been a hot minute since i jumped up kicked back whipped around and spinned

[gingerbreadpopsolo]

Me: *casually scrolling tumblr*

Me: *sees ninjago trending*

Me:

Me: why do I hear boss music

[thatesqcrush]

The Auction, Pt. 2

Bryan Kneef x Reader. CW: discussion of sex work, "being bidded on/purchased" touching of reader - but its consensual, vaginal fingering, language. WC: 2K.

You met with the brains of the organization for a long time. Her name was Cordelia and according to her, you were “a perfect candidate” as she eyed you up and down.

“How does this work? Is this safe? ” You asked, crossing your arms and narrowing your eyes. “How much of a cut do I get? And don't bullshit me.”

“Ah, I’ve always appreciated a woman who gets down to brass tacks.” Cordelia replied. “The cut is 50/50, off the books. We’ll screen your sexual health, of course. While those results are pending, we’ll vet you - make sure you’re of sanity and have no criminal background. This is all done behind closed doors - no one in your immediate life would be the wiser. If that’s all clear, we will arrange the date for the auction. In the meantime, we like to invest in our ladies once they’re cleared - meaning we’ll make arrangements for hair, makeup, clothes, and the like.”

You swallowed hard. “I can assure you, I’m clean. I haven’t had many partners prior.”

Cordelia nodded. “Well, then we have nothing to worry about.”

**

Your test results came and you received a clean bill of health. The next step was to be primped and polished. Naturally you were middle of the road - some days you could be really girly and other days, not. You weren’t tethered to any one style. But it had been awhile since you were ever able to relax, so when you were sent to a spa for a day of treatment, you jumped at the chance.

After, it was onto shopping.

You felt like Vivian from Pretty Woman as salespersons brought you dress after dress while you got your hair and makeup done. The request from Cordelia was ‘sexy, not slutty.’

You settled on a red hot mini dress with a v-neckline and center ruching for added dimension. Finishing the look was a pair of simple heels that showed off your toned gams and a pair of jeweled hoop earrings. You hardly recognized yourself in your reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror in the store. ‘This is one night; you’re playing a role.’ You told yourself. You figured if you repeated it enough times, you’d believe it.

An unmarked car came to collect you once you were done, driving you straight to the location where the auction was taking place.

You knew there would be other women there from Bonnie. What you didn’t realize was that you’d be going very last. Your nerves were starting to fry and your stomach was twisted in knots. You sipped water through a straw so as to not ruin your lipstick. Finally, there was a rap on the door and Cordelia poked her head in.

“Darling, it’s your time to shine. Now go earn your worth.”

**

You could hear raucous laughter, cheering and applause from behind where you stood. The music pounded and you could feel it in your bones.

Finally, the door opened - it was pitch black on the other side, save a spotlight. You said a quick prayer, even though you weren’t very religious as you stepped into the light.

Once there, the light adjusted to a more dim version and you were able to focus your vision on the crowd before you. Music played quietly in the background before a woman began to speak - someone who sounded very much like Cordelia.

What she says next and what is said after, is all blur. Bids begin to roll in and it’s in that moment you realized you were nothing more than a hooker, using your body as a means to an end. Humiliation flowed through you - you didn’t feel like you - you didn’t feel as good as you thought. Instead your worth was measured in bank rolls.

You scanned the room, men of all shapes, sizes, colors and creeds were there, waving their black AmEx cards like they were charging a steak dinner. And that’s how you felt - you were a lamb being slaughtered.

The gavel banged and you heard Cordelia exclaim, “Sold! To Mr. Bryan Kneef for two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

You whipped your head at Cordelia. Had you heard her correctly? Two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars? The fact that you got to keep half made your head spin.

“And that concludes tonight’s auction. Winners may come to collect their prizes in the back.”

Cordelia wrapped her arm around your waist and began to whisk you away when you heard someone thank ‘Mr. Kneef for his payment.’ You turned to see who he was and in the dimmed light you saw it was ‘Mr. Mysterious.’

And you damn near passed out.

**

You sat in the room you were originally in. There was one security camera in place and Cordelia advised that winners liked to meet first before any further advances were to come.

Your leg bounced as you drank your water again. You felt as if you were there for hours but realistically it was mere moments.

The door opened and Mr. Mysteri—Kneef walked in. You smiled nervously at him and extended your arm. “Hi. Bryan, right?”

Bryan didn’t reply. Instead he gave you an intense, smoldering look. His cologne wafted over you, warm and woodsy causing your skin to goosebump.

You brought your arm back and clutched your hands behind your back. Bryan took another step towards you, as if he were trying to get a closer look at his purchase.

“Take off your clothes.” Bryan requested quietly. You opened your mouth to say something but the look in response along with a perfectly arched brow caused you to snap your mouth shut. “I want to see what I bought.”

You reached around, undoing the zipper - thankful it was along the side and not along your back.

You slid the dress off, strap by strap. You hadn’t worn a bra - just a nude thong which wasn’t even fancy - simple and basic, meant more for avoiding lines than anything else. The dress pooled at your feet and you stepped out of it. You moved to kick off your heels when Bryan interrupted you.

“Leave them on.”

You nodded and stood up, anxiously awaiting the next move.

Bryan removed his jacket and folded it neatly, hanging it over a chair. He began to roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt, showing off his muscular forearms with thick, meaty veins.

You looked up and saw the small security camera and realized this private show wasn’t so private. The sound of a finger snap brought you back to the present and you whipped your head towards Bryan. Your heart began to race and you wondered if you should just bolt. You tried to mentally measure the distance between you and the door.

Bryan approached you. His gaze softened, as if he were sorry for what he was about to say. “I’m going to touch you now. At any point if you want me to stop, I will. Consent is very important to me.”

“It is to me too.” You replied, meeting his gaze. After a beat, you continued. “You can touch me.”

His warm touch began rather innocently, along your arm up to along your shoulder. As he walked around you, he kept touching and feeling. His hand got to your ass and he let out a deep rumble as he squeezed the fat of your flesh.

Bryan walked around you. When he came around to the front of you, he cupped one breast with his hand, feeling the weight against his palm. You did your best to remain stoic, ignoring the bolt of pleasure that had shot down to your core. That changed when he firmly twisted your nipple, as you let out a moan as he did so. That earned another arched brow from him, as if taking mental notes.

He rounded you again, and you felt him close the small gap that remained. You felt his cock, hard, pressed against the small of your back. His fingers gently traced your arm and then brought it up, so it was around his neck. He ran his hand back down along your side, and you trembled under his touch. You were certain your heart was beating outside of your chest. When he got to the side of your ribs, he splayed out his hand, so his palm was against you. Slowly, his hand made way down to the apex of your legs.

“Open.” He rumbled in your ear quietly and you followed his instructions. Your breath hitched as his hand cupped your mound. Bryan’s fingers then moved to stroke you softly, teasing your clit and then moving back to stroke your folds. Your pussy grew wet, your breath became more labored as he continued his ministrations. You bit your bottom lip as he slowly but surely worked you to orgasm. Just when you thought you weren’t going to be able to take anymore, Bryan sunk a thick finger inside your soaked pussy. Your pussy clenched around his finger tightly and you let out a wrecked moan in response.

“You’re so wet and we haven’t even started.” Bryan murmured. His beard against your cheek added another layer of sensation. There was no resistance when Bryan sunk another thick finger and began to pump them in and out of you. The sound of wet filled the room and your legs felt wobbly as you gripped around Bryan’s neck harder. Your other hand found his free hand and you brought it up to your breast, encouraging him.

“I’m so close.” You panted. “Oh fuck!”

“Come for me like a good girl.” Bryan growled as he rubbed your clit with the fat pad of his thumb. He used his other hand to pinch your nipple again and you arched against him, coming so hard that you drew his fingers further in.

“That’s it, that’s it.” Bryan praised. “Oh sweetheart we’re going to have so much fun.” He slid his fingers out of you and you whimpered at the loss.

Bryan spun you around to face him. You were a mess as you watched him admire his wet fingers in the light. Bryan brought them to you and you took his fingers into your mouth, cleaning them of your juices and then imitating as to what you could do with your mouth.

Bryan gave you a salacious smile as he withdrew his fingers. He traced them along your cheek, leaving a wet trail to your mouth where he rubbed your bottom lip.

“I definitely got my money’s worth with you.” Bryan replied. “Go home, get some sleep. I’ll have arrangements made so we can have even more fun.”

You watched as he walked away, grabbing his suit jacket and exiting without so much as a second glance. You stayed frozen in place for another five minutes or so, until you realized you could redress and go home.

The car ride home left you with more questions than answers and more horny than ever. Your battery operated boyfriend ran through its battery as you replayed the evening over and over as you were too wired to sleep from the earlier events.

Eventually you did, with Bryan’s name still on your lips.

TBC.

Tags: @mgarner1227 @madpanda75 @tropes-and-tales @beccabarba @dreamlover31 @dreamlover31 @prurientpuddlejumper @sass-and-suspenders @youreverycolor @neely1177 @witches-unruly-heart @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @greeneyedblondie44 @mommakat32 @teamsladsandgents @detective-giggles @garturbo @zoeykaytesmom @ottosuricato @zoeykaytesmom @bananas-pajamas @law-nerd105

@storiesofsvu @pieceofshittytitty @i-justreally-like-cats-okay @whatisthislife28 @jazzyjoi @rampantmuses @rachelxwayne @qvid-pro-qvo @madamsnape921 @averyhotchner @alwaysachorusgirl @amelia-song-pond @tintinxtintin @wanniiieeee @blueberryt @crowfootwrites @emandems10 @berniesilvas @whoamelinda @its-just-me-chey @resparza @chunex @chasingeverybreakingwave @itsjustmyfantasyroom @bisexual-dreamer02

[jenovahh]

A Long Fall - Gaius x OC

Rating: T Pairing: Gaius x OC A quick lil bit an art trade with @faunna! Hope I captured your OC well! =========================================================== It is well past midnight (or rather it feels like it) and though Yanelis would never admit to anyone, not even herself, she is filled to the brim with worry.

She has long since been changed for bed, her usually free flowing hair now neatly tucked in french braids so that her tresses will curl on the morrow. Though she is not in her usual day wear, her pajamas are no less finer than any of the dresses in her closet. With slippered feet she had tried to find different kinds of busy work to occupy her mind: pulling weeds in the garden, preparing dinner, cleaning the bathroom twice. 

And still he has not returned home.

She resolves that as soon as the bell does strike twelve to shed her night wear and don her usual healing robes and march right out to Ala Mhigo to see what is taking that man so damn long. Her tail whips in agitation, fast like a whip as it accidentally thumps against a nearby cabinet. Her eyes are trained on the door despite her best efforts, praying to any of the Twelve that listen, that he just comes home.

The hour grows progressively late, topaz eyes glaring at the door almost angrily, as if willing it to open and have her lover on the other side. Glancing at a nearby clock, it is barely fifteen minutes past ten, but unfortunately her concern outweighs her reason. Kicking off her slippers, she angrily stomps her way to her bedroom, stopping only as she hears an untimely thud against the front door.

Freezing in place, her preternatural eyes dart around for any potential weapons, but stops as she hears the sound of a key being clumsily shoved into the whole. The latches flip and the door flies open, revealing a handsome, but haggard looking man.

Relief floods through her chest immediately, nearly tripping over her forgotten slippers in her haste to greet the imposing figure at her door. With skin as dark as the earth that gives life, he bumbles through the door, looking seemingly okay until he falters, grunting in pain as he crashes down to one knee.

“Gaius!”

Yanelis is at his side in an instant, falling to her knees with little disregard for her silken bedwear. “Are you well? Should I fetch my robes--”

Gaius gives a soft chuckle, more to himself than anything as he tries to stand back to his feet, pride lending him strength.

Unfortunately all pride lends him is embarrassment as he crashes back to the floor.

Fussing over him like a mother hen, Yanelis quickly checks for any external bleeding, glad to see any lacerations and wounds are not too deep and can be mended with a few healing spells. He’ll sport some deep purple bruises in the morning, this she can tell, but she needs to help him survive until the next morn.

“Clothes off. Now.” She demands, grabbing him by his right arm. He groans in protest, a mixture of indignation and pain but acquiesces all the same as he leans onto her for support. Despite her petite frame compared to his lean build, she has all the strength needed to help him limp into the bathroom. Sitting him on the privy, she leans over to start the water to running, setting it to a nice hot temperature to help soothe his aches and wash away any evils.

“How are you this beaten up?” Yanelis finds herself asking, turning around to immediately reach for his tattered coat, wrenching it off nigh forcefully given her frustration. Gaius groans mutely in protest but shrugs his shoulder and arms out of the dirty garment, allowing her to begin working on his shirt next. “I demand an answer.”

Gaius’ lips move but whatever he says comes out in a grumble, only serving to further incite her ire.

“Has the Black Wolf grown so meek that he cannot answer a simple question?” She huffs, hands on her hips as she bends closer, minding her horns. “Speak up, lest I nearly impale your head trying to hear you.”

“I had told you this morning why I had left, had I not?” Gaius finally speaks, his voice scratchy and worn.

“Yes, you had told me you would be heading to examine the Emerald Weapon; not fight in a godsdamned war. Or at least, come home looking like you did.” Try as she might she cannot hide the concern in her voice, and she can tell by the glint in his eyes that he’s picked up on it too. However, this seems to make him even more embarrassed, turning his face away like some sort of petulant child. “Gaius. What. Happened?”

He is silent a few moments more before grumbling again, standing to his feet. Stumbling backward from his sudden movement, Yanelis’ face goes scarlet as his hands reach for his breeches and begin tugging them downward. “By the Twelve-” Spinning on her heel, she quickly exits the bathroom, closing the door shut behind her.

Heart racing, she takes a moment to breathe, before hearing the lock click shut behind her. She turns the knob but the door won’t budge, and she stamps her foot in anger. “Gaius van Baelsar!” She shouts, realizing she’s been had.

“I will be out in a moment.” His voice carries under the door, along with a blissful sigh coupled with the sound of sloshing water.

Pleased for now, Yanelis pads up the aged stairs to gather her supplies. She would need her staff to heal the larger cuts and could most likely bandage the rest. Worry still niggles the back of her mind,  but he is home and safe and for that she is already grateful. Supplies in hand, she realizes she spaced out longer than intended and heads for the stairs.

Just as she rounds the corner, she spies Gaius there in a towel wrapped somewhat loosely around his slender hips, his expression looking caught. Yanelis feels herself flush red seeing the last few droplets of water running down his  brown skin, his skin still maintaining a slight moisture from his bath.

Clearing her throat, she pins him with her most indignant look. "And where do you think you're going?"

Frowning, Gaius avoids her eyes. "I was going to get changed, madam." He drawls sarcastically. 

Huffing,  Yanelis descends by one stair.  "Since you're feeling so cheeky, then you're clearly well enough to sit awhile longer so that I can bandage your wounds. Stay down there, I will return with a change of clothes."

Fixing her with a withering glare, Gaius sighs knowing the battle already lost, but he must say his piece. "I am not a child."

"Then don't act like one. Down. Stairs. " She orders, grinning as he turns around and trudges back down the stairs. Turning on her heel she heads into their bedroom, immediately heading for his dresser to retrieve a loose nightshirt and some pants, she hustles down the stairs with her arms bursting with things.

She finds him in the kitchen shoving his shirt and pants at him before turning to head into the den, back turned so that he may have some semblance of privacy. “And don’t even think about sneaking back upstairs or I’m putting you out.” She calls over her shoulder, walking around the couch to set her things down on the coffee table. The scratches and dents stick out to her most often during these times, the poor table used as a makeshift operating table more often than not. She often joked to herself that Gaius got himself banged up on purpose knowing she could heal him.

“Let’s get this over with.”

His rough voice jolts her from her thoughts, nearly jumping out her scales as Gaius rounds the wide couch and plops himself on it rather unceremoniously. His face is contorted in a way that looks as if he is trying not to pout, eyebrows pinched together in what is pure annoyance and thinly veiled pain.

“Well if you want to sleep and bleed all out over the ground outside, do be my guest.” Yanelis huffs, crossing her arms petulantly as Gaius cuts her a withering glare. 

“Just...heal me you stubborn woman.” He groans, sitting forward, releasing his tension so that she may move him how she likes.

Having gotten her way, Yanelis hums happily as she reaches for her staff and immediately seeks out the deepest cuts, the top of the staff glowing a healthy green in tandem with her hand over his skin. She winces as he does, holds herself back from hissing with him as the skin knits together beneath her palm, eyes closed in complete focus as she feels magic flow through her.

“That will...never cease to be strange. And yet it also amazes me.” She hears him murmur, his voice having lost its jagged edge. She grins to herself as his hand rests on her knee, fingers rubbing small circles there.

“You know, I joke to myself that you get so beat up because you come home so that I can heal you.” Yanelis teases, placing her staff down now that she’s ensured the bulk of the wound will mend properly. Reaching for bandages, she unrolls a strip in her hand as she meets his dark eyes. “Really, Gaius. How on earth did you get hurt this time? You told me you were going to talk with Raubahn.”

His head hangs immediately at hearing the worry in her voice, pout returning as he finds himself unable to look her in the eye. She grumbles as she wraps his wounds with gauze, cinching tighter than needed as he chooses to keep quiet. “Gaius van Baelsar,”

“I fell.”

The statement is so simple, yet so shocking, she stops her wrapping to stare blankly at him. Were his skin not so dark, she swears his face would be red as a beet. “You...fell?” She repeats.

Groaning loudly, he flops back against the couch. “I hadn’t lied when I said I had gone to visit Raubahn and discuss how we will continue to address the threats of more potential weapons from Garlemald.” He sighs, slapping a hand over his face in shame. “But...seeing us there, a few rookies had wanted to see the Brazen Bull and Black Wolf in action...I humbly declined but Raubahn thought a friendly spar would be good for morale.”

She watches as he hazards a glance at her, but her face has frozen in mild shock.

“It had started off completely normal...until I had lost awareness of my surroundings, and took a nasty tumble down the side of a small incline.” He huffs,  running a hand through his silken hair. “Raubahn insisted I see a medicus before returning home, but I declined and made the trek here instead. I was...expecting you to be out on business.”

It is silent for a few moments more as she continues to stare at him.

And then she laughs.

Twelve above, it is probably the ugliest laugh she has ever released in a good while, but she cannot help herself as she drops the gauze from her hand and nearly keels over from laughter.

From the corners of her eyes, tears spring and she can see Gaius’ pout become more pronounced as he yanks the gauze she dropped and continues to wrap his wounds himself. “I’m glad you find it so amusing.” He drones as her cheeks begin to hurt.

“Oh goodness,” She practically wheezes, a giggle slipping out here or there. “Oh your poor pride. I hope they didn’t laugh at you too hard.” She titters, smacking his hands away so that she can bandage him up properly.

“No. Unlike you they were actually concerned for my well being and didn’t laugh.” He snaps, throwing her an angry look, but she’s known him long enough to tell it has no bite to it. She can see that while embarrassed, her laughter has at least redirected her concern from thinking he had gotten into some terrible battle without telling her.

“I am concerned!” She snickers, reaching to peck his cheek. His resulting grumble only amuses her further as she feels his skin heat up beneath her touch. “How about I make your favorite tea, hmm? I’m sorry for laughing at you.” 

Fixing her with an unamused expression, he rolls his eyes. “Very well.”

Yanelis reaches to give him another kiss on the cheek but Gaius quickly turns his face to where her lips meet his. Flushing red, she sits back down, hands flying up to her petal soft lips as she takes in his bemused expression. Chuckling, he gives her a solid pat on the thigh before standing and heading toward the kitchen. 

“There. Now we’re even.”

[ezmodo]

Dancing for Dunces

Surveying the room from her seat, Weiss was genuinely impressed with Atlas Academy’s school dance. The hall was spacious, the music tasteful, the food and drink more refined than she expected from a military school. Even the decorations were adequate, lack of doilies notwithstanding. There was one glaring issue, however.

“I’m going to kill that dolt.”

“Which dolt is that, Weiss?” Yang asked from across the table, her knowing grin adding to Weiss’ mounting frustrations.

“Her. Him. Them!” she fumed, angrily whipping her hand towards the two sources of her irritation.

On the far side of the room stood Ruby Rose and Jaune Arc, hiding behind the punchbowl.

---

Weiss didn’t think her friends appreciated just how much work went into setting this up for them. She didn’t organize the academy’s social, no, but she did everything else in her power to make the night memorable for her team, some of which required some uncomfortable visits home. Her team didn’t have clothes suitable for a dance and she wasn’t about to let them wear borrowed formal military uniforms for the occasion. But with thankfully just one promised appearance at a future function of her father’s choosing, Weiss had access to the Schnee wardrobe and, most importantly of all, Klein.

She gave Yang and Blake free rein and naturally they went for matching ensembles. Yang chose a surprisingly modest black gown that went down past her knee while Blake chose a rather risqué halter dress, a stunning yellow piece that showed more than Weiss wanted to see from her teammate outside of a changing room. Yang certainly appreciated it though, loud and often. Weiss was happy for her friends, she really was, but couldn’t they show some restraint? Ruby’s mock gagging every time they started up mirrored Weiss’ thoughts on the matter. No one wanted to see their family acting like that. Just imagining Winter in such a scenario was enough to cause the bile to rise to the back of her throat.

For Ruby, Weiss had to take direct control. Left to her own devices, Ruby would have shown up in her hood and combat boots. Or, more likely, not shown up at all and stayed in her room to play video games instead. Which wasn’t an option, naturally. Ruby would have a magical evening even if Weiss had to drag her kicking and screaming into it.

Weiss chose for her a simple off-the-shoulder dress, a deep red to match her hair. The bodice had a tasteful bustline and the skirt was suitably “poofy”, to use Ruby’s vernacular, for her partner’s tastes. A silver hairpin kept her hair neat and out of her eyes. Weiss had wanted to include a stole as well for Ruby to wrap about her shoulders, to round out the look and provide her partner with the bit of comfort that she knew losing her hood would cost her, but Nora had fought her on it. Let those puppies breathe, Nora had argued. Weiss was scandalized, but Nora insisted she just meant her shoulders.

New knowledge of Jaune’s possible...proclivities made Weiss consider adding a heavy winter coat to all of her outfits.

She left Jaune himself in the care of his teammates and Klein. Nora aside, she could trust the two men to smooth out the rough edges of the moronic knight into something presentable. She had only two instructions for them. One – do something, anything, with that disaster he called hair; and two – pin a red rose to his breast. They had settled on a simple tuxedo and bowtie, the only color coming from the lovely red rose standing out proudly on his chest.

As she watched Ruby and Jaune gawk at each other when they first met before the dance, Weiss just knew the night was going to be a rousing success.

---

This is an unmitigated disaster… Weiss thought sourly as she watched her partner take a drink from the same empty glass for the fifth time in the last ten minutes.

The night had started so promisingly. She was initially worried that they’d be too flustered to talk, too dazzled by her and Klein’s perfect makeovers, but a timely joke from Yang snapped Ruby and Jaune out of their respective stupors long enough to bring back their usual dynamic. The group made their way to the hall and quickly secured a table and the two dunces actually tried to sit separately before she and Nora boxed them in. Was Jaune too stunned by Ruby’s elegant beauty? Was Ruby put off kilter by Jaune managing to look almost halfway dashing? A dinner full of quick peeks and long sideways stares confirmed the theory in Weiss’ mind.

As soon as dinner was cleared away Nora leapt to her feet, grabbed both Ren and Oscar by the collars, and dragged them away shouting that “this was happening”. Yang and Blake followed, telling the remaining three that they’d save them a spot on the dance floor.

This was it. Jaune would offer a hand to Ruby, which she’d accept demurely, and off they’d go to share a magical evening that they both thoroughly deserved. At least until Jaune mumbled something about dancing “requiring proper hydration” as he fled from the table. Ruby was quick to follow, offering her own squeaky excuse before stumbling along after him, faster than Weiss had ever seen the girl move in heels. They’d been at the punchbowl ever since.

Face in her hands, Weiss finally realized the fatal flaw in her plan. She wasn’t dealing with normal, sane people. She was dealing with Ruby Rose and Jaune Arc, the two biggest dorks to ever come out of Beacon Academy. Weiss had so graciously presented them with the best night of their lives, so easy to grasp that they could practically fall into it, and they had made it awkward.

They’d even spoiled the hard work she and Klein put into their appearance. Ruby had taken the hairpin out at some point and now half her face was hidden behind her red fringe. Jaune’s own hair had transformed back into its usual messy mop from the boy constantly running his hand through it while his bowtie hung loose and crooked from constant tugging.

“Why are they being so difficult?” Weiss groused, glaring at the pair across the room. “You’re at a dance. Dance.”

“Chill out, kettle,” Yang joked, earning an icy glare from the heiress.

Yang laughed uneasily before adding, “You know Ruby’s not into stuff like that, right? Maybe she doesn’t want to dance.”

“Nonsense,” Weiss scoffed. “Every girl wants to dance with the person they like.”

“They certainly do.”

Blake snuck up behind Yang and ran a hand down the girl’s arm as she joined her partner at the table. Weiss fought the urge to roll her eyes. These two…

Yang grinned dopily at Blake before turning back to Weiss. “What’s the big deal anyway? They’re having fun.”

She’d allow that. Even from across the room she would occasionally hear one of the two laughing, Jaune with his heaving guffaws and Ruby with her high pitched cackling. They’d occasionally bump hips or elbows with each other, starting an impromptu “fight” that would end with them standing just a bit closer than before.

It was cute. It was endearing. It made Weiss grind her teeth in frustration. They were so damned close but neither would take the first step.

“How goes the mission, Ice Queen?”

Nora announced herself loudly, Neon in tow, as they joined the group at the table. Neon sat to Yang’s left while Nora joined Weiss opposite them.

“Where’s Ren?” Blake asked. It was strange to see Nora without the boy, especially on a night like this.

Nora harrumphed as she crossed her arms. “He took over Oscar’s dancing lessons. Apparently I was going to  ‘break him’ and ‘scar him for life,’” punctuating each complaint with air quotes.

Weiss looked back to the dancefloor and sure enough, Oscar and Ren were moving back and forth in a simple waltz. Oscar’s face burned red from embarrassment while Ren, unflappable as always, quietly offered direction as he allowed Oscar to lead him around the floor.

“Mission?” Neon asked, leaning eagerly across the table. “What mission?”

Weiss simply hooked a thumb towards the pair across the hall.

Yang explained. “Weiss wants my sister and Jaune to share a magical evening full of dancing and awkward se-”

Yang just managed to keep her seat as Weiss’ glyph rocked her chair back dangerously.

Neon laughed as she watched the two leaders chatting at the punchbowl. “They both the shy type or what?”

“Shy and awkward and dumb,” Weiss growled.

“Then just give them a little push,” Neon offered with a shrug. “Spin the bottle, seven minutes in heaven, recreational dru- I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Neon jumped out of her chair, hands raised defensively as Weiss rose threateningly to her feet.

“I’ve got it!” Nora exclaimed. Jumping to her feet, she dragged both Neon and Yang into an improvised huddle as they whispered.

After a minute of excited conspiring, the three girls all raised their heads in confidence with a unified nod.

“Got any hot friends to do the job?” Yang asked, grinning up at Neon.

“Babe,” Neon said, wrapping an arm around Yang’s shoulder and pulling her into a friendly side hug, “all my friends are hot.”

Yang was oblivious, but Weiss didn’t miss the angry twitch of Blake’s ears.

Luckily, Neon practically hopped away before a cat fight (literally in this case, Weiss supposed) could break out with a happy “leave it to me!” before disappearing into the throng of dancers.

“What are you two scheming?” Weiss asked suspiciously.

“Simple, Weissy. The quickest way to get a huntress to pounce is for another huntress to threaten her prey,” Nora stated matter-of-factly.

Before she could puzzle that one out, Weiss noticed a girl approach their table. Tall with long brown hair, rather ridiculous curves, and a dress that made Blake’s look modest, the girl looked more like a model than a huntress.

“Hey,” she greeted the group. “Neon sent me. Apparently there’s a hunk looking for a dance?”

“Yup! Tall blond dude by the drinks,” Yang said, pointing discreetly towards Jaune. “Can’t miss him.”

The girl nodded and made her way towards the leaders. She stopped briefly, adjusting her dress in ways that showed even more skin, and sashayed her way towards Jaune.

Weiss sputtered. This was their master plan? To have some...some hussy steal the target of her partner’s affections right in front of her? Unacceptable. She made to stand but was grabbed instantly by Nora, who pulled her back to her seat.

“Have some faith, Weiss. You’ll see,” Nora said with a pat on her back.

She watched the seductress approach the table where Ruby had just told some joke that had Jaune wiping a tear from his eye. The girl centered herself, cocked her hip, and made a show of clearing her throat. The leaders looked to their new arrival and simultaneously froze, probably when the harpy asked him for a dance. Weiss’ hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her palm as she watched some stranger break her best friend’s heart.

Until Jaune’s head suddenly snapped to Ruby, surprise evident on his face even from a distance. His gaze slowly shifted down and that’s when Weiss noticed – Ruby’s hand had found his. Ruby offered some hurried excuse and promptly started dragging Jaune after her out towards the dancefloor. The brunette sent to steal Jaune turned towards their table with a thumbs up raised high which both Yang and Nora returned with gusto.

I can’t believe that actually worked, Weiss thought as her eyes followed the pair squeezing by other couples out on the floor.

“All’s well that ends well,” Nora chirped happily. “‘Bout time I go find my man.”

“Ayup. Sis won’t let anyone take her sweets.” Yang stood, offering a hand to Blake. “Up for another dance, kitten?”

Blake rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her blush as she took her partner’s hand.

Weiss stood as well, straightening out her dress. I suppose I should get a dance in as well. Maybe Nora will let me borrow Ren for a song…

She turned towards the dancefloor and froze when she saw Ruby pinching her nose.

Did that idiot Jaune seriously…?

A goofy grin broke out on Ruby’s face as she raised her free hand and pantomimed sinking to the floor, wiggling all the way.

“The swim huh? Talk about a blast from the past,” Yang laughed.

Jaune looked like he was trying to knee himself in the chest as he ran in place.

“Ooo! Count me in!” Nora shouted, brushing past Weiss on her way to the dancefloor.

Weiss buried her face in her hands and let out a long suffering sigh.

Idiots. I’m surrounded by idiots.

This wasn’t romantic. This wasn’t magical. This was tomfoolery.

Dragging her hands down her face, Weiss finally noticed her partner smiling at her. With an exaggerated wave, Ruby beckoned her to join them.

They were her idiots at least.

[spectrumscribe]

Do Kaiju even like apples?

a Pacific Rim and TMNT 2014/16 fusion, introducing budding science sister and her tiny monster brothers. (who won’t be tiny for long.)

@rhi-draws-things​ provided the illustrations, bless them.

trying a new method of posting stories to tumblr, i think i’ll just add each new installment to this post under the cut of a reblog. have ‘em all together for your reading leisure. enjoy this first one!

April is pretty sure she should have stuck it out at school, and just slept in the nurse’s office.

At least then she would have had an actual bed, rather than be stuck in a hard plastic chair and drowsing while the base’s occupants ran around like kicked ants. Apparently something of the top secret project April knew next to nothing about (hence the ‘top secret’ part of things) had escaped, and everyone had gone zero to sixty in an instant the moment sirens went off.

April had found herself shoved into the nearest staff room, told to lock the door, and not to move until someone came and got her. She’d been expecting that her dad would just look over some documents too important to put off, and then they’d go home so she could sleep off her fever.

No such luck. The sirens outside of her meagrely furnished staff room are still droning, and April is falling asleep despite the awful chair. At least someone lent her a coat at some point, and she’s only shivering a little in the oversized thing.

Her unfinished lunch remains in its baggy near her face, as she leans forward with her cheek pressed to the table. She’d tried to convince herself again to eat, since getting better requires energy, but hasn’t had much luck. It drifts in and out of focus as her eyes get heavier, and giving in, April just lets the fever drag her under into a light nap.

The sirens aren’t enough to keep her awake, or even make her panic longer than the first minute they’d been going.  She knows they’re not for a Kaiju attack, and even if they were, she’s inside a military base. There are no active Jaegers here, but there’s some just up the coastline of New York. She’s safe as she could get, outside of a Kaiju shelter.

And, she’s sick. Being sick makes it easier to just not care.

April naps for a period of time she doesn’t remember, and doesn’t rouse again even after the alarms are turned off. She doesn’t notice they have been, and doesn’t know it’s simply because everyone got sick of listening to them while hunting for the escaped subject.

April doesn’t hear the door’s lock be broken from the inside, and doesn’t hear it open and shut with a quiet noise. What she does hear, oddly enough, is the sound of someone messing with her uneaten sandwich.

April blearily opens her eyes, too hot and too cold at the same time, and really annoyed with whatever’s woken her back up to that.

Three claws are sunk into the tip of her sandwich’s baggy, and four wide eyes stare back at her, just over the lip of the table.

The four gold eyes blink at her. April blinks her two blue ones a few times to confirm its real.

She screams.

The owner of the four eyes screams back, and runs away.

April nearly falls out of her chair, scrambling away from the table and the thing with all the coordination possible of a sick individual. She runs into another crappy chair and does fall over, yelping as she goes down.

There’s a dizzying moment, worsened by her illness, in which everything spins in terrible circles. April finally recovers enough to gingerly sit back up; half convinced she’s just had a hallucination.

But, no. That’s definitely a pintsized Kaiju scrabbling around on the linoleum across the room from her.

“Oh my god,” April whispers in horror, and then jumps with a shriek as the creature hisses balefully at her.

She untangles her legs from the chair’s, and manages to get to her feet and press against the wall of the room. April is hyperventilating a little, watching the tiny Kaiju pace and snarl on the other end of their shared space.

It’s between her and the coatracks, where she hung her backpack earlier. Her backpack contains her cellphone, which is what she needs, right this instant, so she can call her dad and the army and if they have one an indoor Jaeger because oh my fucking god, that’s a Kaiju.

A really.

Really.

Small Kaiju.

It’s about the size of an overly large housecat, with a long, strong looking tail whipping around behind it as it paces. Purple spots of bioluminescence follow the length of its body, which cause a bit of nausea to look at when it keeps moving so quickly, and April is still very sick feeling.

The segmented plates on its back almost look like a shell, April thinks distantly. Like a turtle and a dragon and a cattish thing all got mixed together.

It stands up on two legs then, walking perfectly fine like that. April amends and changes the cattish part to lemurish, maybe even humanish. It’s the tail that’s really the tipping point, making the walk ever so slightly abnormal in its gait.

April is very, very dizzy. Oof. Everything is spinning even while she’s still leaning against the wall. Couldn’t the tiny Kaiju have chosen to terrorize her on a day when she wasn’t ill? Is that too much to ask from fate, given that the war was supposed to be over?

“…I guess you’re the one everyone’s looking for,” April says faintly, mostly to herself. The little Kaiju shrieks and hops away to press against the far wall, pacing and tittering nervously. And it is nervous, April is realizing. If she hadn’t known better, she’d almost think the little thing is as scared as she feels at the moment.

But Kaiju are city destroying titans, not afraid even when a Jaeger is thundering towards them. It wouldn’t make sense for even a tiny one to be afraid of a sick teenage girl.

Oh, but this one really is awfully small. April could probably hold it with one arm if she tried.

April reminds herself to focus. Thoughts like that are for after she’s certain she isn’t going to get mauled.

The little Kaiju is eyeing her, but also- as April notices the break of focus every couple seconds- the table April had been sleeping at.

April looks at the sandwich on the table.

She formulates a plan.

Taking a careful step forwards, April starts to move towards the table. She’s nearly startled backwards all over again when the Kaiju makes a leap towards her, only for it to back off immediately. It’s hissing and spitting, but really, it’s just making a show instead of real threats.

The coatrack is directly above where the Kaiju is pacing. April slowly picks up her sandwich.

“Hey, little… guy,” April settles on the addressment, since it’s better than spawn of world destroyers or the like. “Do you want some food?”

The Kaiju watches her warily, but has stopped shrieking every time she moves. It’s clearly torn between following her and the sandwich at the same time; intent gold eyes boring holes into both.

April opens the bag slowly, and takes out half the sandwich.

“Here… look, its fake bologna and lettuce. Mmm, right? Really tasty, I promise. Fake processed meat is about the same as actual processed meat in nutrients anyway.”

The Kaiju inches forwards in half steps, eyes darting between her face and the treat. April takes a chance and tosses the triangle of food onto the floor in front of it.

The food is snapped up immediately, and in an act of definitely inhuman physiology, the sandwich piece disappears into the Kaiju’s mouth. April sees the hinges of its jawline open wider than a human’s would, or even most animals. She gulps quietly at the rows of sharp teeth it has, which flash as it chews noisily.

It’s looking at her now less with fear, more with curiosity. And it’s moving away from the coatrack. Good. April takes out the other half of the sandwich, and figures she can blame her illness for making her think this next step is a good plan.

“You gotta come and take this one from me, dude,” she tells it softly, holding out the sandwich halve and bending down a little. “C’mon… I’m probably not the one who’s gonna bite anyone here…”

Faster than she thought, the Kaiju approaches her. It moves in cautious steps, but is steadily losing the edge of wariness. By the time it tentatively puts a claw on the bread, its eyes are all on the sandwich, and April can step around it without even a hiss in response.

She makes a hasty beeline for her backpack, digging out her phone frantically and thumbing open the screen. She gets open her text messages, and then slowly comes to a stop, fingers hovering.

Soft and chirrupy noises have taken the place of shrieks and hissing, and April glances behind her.

The little Kaiju is sitting with its legs in a clumsy fold, resembling lotus flower position, and is talking adamantly to itself as it dissects the second sandwich halve. Rather than scarf it down, it’s taking the time to examine and… narrate the pieces of the sandwich.

And, in a way, the sounds aren’t just sounds, but are closer to actual words.

April is truly her father’s daughter, because she immediately thinks amazing, and is there more to discover here?

April looks back into the open mouth of her backpack, seeing her baggy of apple slices inside.

Retrieving them, April creeps back towards the Kaijuling. Baby Kaiju? There have only ever been full grown monstrosities publically documented, nothing about early stages of their growth cycles. There’s no word for this creature yet, and even then. April suspects there’s been meddling with its DNA, since there’s no way anything could evolve to have such a drastic growth period between infant and adult.

Except it’s an alien, so. Earth rules might not apply.

April slowly comes to kneel a cautious distance from the little creature. She opens the baggy, and steels herself from startling as its four eyes whip around to stare at her.

Do Kaiju even like apples?

One way to find out.

April wordlessly holds out a slice of apple. It’s been kept fresh by lemon she’d squeezed onto it yesterday, when she didn’t have a damn fever.

“Want one?” she asks. There’s a pause, and then the Kaiju makes a sound of joyful interest.

Without further prompt or hesitation, it slips over to her on all fours, and sits back up to wrap a small clawed hand around the slice. April watches, fascinated and rapidly losing her own fears, as it nibbles at the snack food.

When the first slice is gone, and the little Kaiju is licking its approximation of lips with its pointed tongue, it holds out its hands and makes grabbing gestures and coos impatiently.

“Say please,” April says automatically, and realizes it’s because the behaviors remind her strikingly of a small child.

It stares at her, looking annoyed. April is stunned quietly that it can express annoyance, and not just want or fear something.

“Say please?” she requests again, experimentally.

“Sss… say p’ease?”

April’s mouth falls open, a taking a sharp breath in.

“Say p’ease?” the Kaiju repeats, high voiced and unpracticed. Mimicking her, but not perfectly, missing the harder to pronounce part of a new word, like a child would.

Like a child would.

April hands over the next apple slice, and manages to mumble, “Yeah, that’s right. Say please. Good job.”

“Good job,” repeats back the Kaiju, nearly chirping it, and bites the new slice in half happily. April is still processing her shock as it shifts closer to her, pressing against her leg with its little ones and making grabby gestures again.

“Say p’ease,” it says with confidence, tail flicking against the floor in anticipation.

“…you’re very smart, aren’t you?” April says to it.

The little Kaiju coos and only has eyes for the apple slices. April hands another one over as requested. This time is a little different, though, as it catches her hand with its own free one. She holds perfectly still as it multitasks nibbling the fruit, and examining her pale pink palms and darker skin everywhere else.

April is not particularly afraid, she finds, watching the creature pick at her short finger nails with its wicked little claws.

“Say p’ease, good job,” it pronounces, apparently done with the examination. It grabs for the bag in April’s right hand, and April holds it away on instinct.

“No,” she tells it. It starts to sit up, reaching for it. “No,” April repeats, more firmly. “You ask nicely if you want more. Say please.”

The Kaiju’s face screws up in a pout, its big eyes squinting in annoyance. Its tail lashes for a moment, and then it says in a distinctly put upon voice, “Say p’ease?”

Purely and clearly, that’s the voice of a fed up toddler not getting what they want, and going along because it’s the only way to get it.

April finds herself fighting a smile, and laughing a little. He looks so cute, so frustrated like that.

“Okay, you can have another, now,” she informs him, and gives another piece of apple to the Kaiju. He takes it, but manages to look sulky about it.

April’s knees are starting to cramp like this, and she shifts into a lotus position like her Kaiju friend. She moves away from him to do so, trying to avoid disturbing him with her careful movements, but is surprised when he moves right back next to her once she’s settled.

And then climbs into her lap, fearless and curious about the jacket she’s got on, and the chance to get more apples sooner. April is a little uncomfortable having a mouthful of sharp incisors and hands tipped in claws so close to her vitals, but that’s tempered by the excited tittering the Kaiju makes, picking at the undone zipper of her jacket.

He’s so curious about everything, now that he’s not scared out of his mind. It’s almost like the time April held a large parrot, when a conservationist moved into the apartment next to her and her dad- the huge bird had been noisy and curious, and just enough of a discomfort near her face it’d been a thrill to hold him.

It’s like that, right now, combined with the time she held a baby of a colleague her dad has. Exciting and a little scary, and part of her is worried she’ll upset things if she moves wrong.

April stifles a sound of pain as the Kaiju discovers her coils and tugs on a fistful. She teaches him again about the word no.

It’s only after he’s settled comfortably into her lap, chewing on the last of slices of apple, that April remembers she should probably call someone about this.

It’s made a little harder than usual to text, since somebody has decided the thing he wants most in the world is now her phone.

She’s still trying to explain that no, he can’t have it, and that tapping it rapidly with his claws is just going to scratch the screen- “Pads, you use the pads of your fingers,”- when the door is all but kicked off its hinges behind them.

“There it is!” someone bellows, and April’s little Kaiju friend loses his cool.

The winding tail wrapped loosely around her arm is switched to her stomach, and April is treated to the feeling of being strangled around the midriff and claw tips nearly puncturing her jacket’s fabric.

“Ow, no, hey,” she says, as she gets unsteadily off the ground and backs hastily away from the door. She pats uselessly at the hard ridges of his back. “Dude, hey, I need to- breathe and stuff- ow-”

“Ms. O’Neil, stop moving!” commands the soldier, and oh joy, he’s got a gun. April thinks it’s a tranq gun, and neither it nor he and the other soldiers pouring in are doing anything to calm things down.

“April!” yells her dad, fighting his way through the clog of bodies in the doorway. His eyes are wide with fear as he catches sight of the Kaiju wrapped around his daughter, and looks about ready to throw up.

The little Kaiju shrieks, lighting up hostile purple again and baring its fangs at the intruders. Immediately the sound of safety catches clicking off are heard, and April throws up a hand. “Guys, stop it! You’re scaring him-!”

A particularly brash soldier strides forwards, arm outstretched and aiming to rip the Kaiju off April forcefully, and the tail around April’s waist comes away in a whip quick slash.

The soldier cries out as a bright red seam of blood appears across his face, and April stares in shock at the long barb abruptly produced from the end of the tail.

“NO!”  screams the little Kaiju, slashing its long thin barb in the air in front of them. “NO, NO, NO!”

April hysterically thinks she taught him the word no a little too well.

“Hey- WHOA, okay, everyone just-” April takes a number of steps back from the panicking soldiers and her father, trying to keep people out of stabbing range of the tail barb. “-take a deep breath, okay? I’m fine, it’s cool, just stop freaking him out already.”

There’s a murmur of dissent, soldiers shifting uneasily as they try to find an angle to come at them from, and April hears a quiet hiccup beside her neck.

“No, no, no,” repeats her little friend, words shifting into desperate little growls and keens. He’s pressing close as possible to her, strong little limbs clinging tightly, and he’s trembling as he does.

His tail slashing in the air and bared teeth and brightly lit threat display all say animal, dangerous, monster… but the sobs underneath all that say scared little kid.

She raises her hand to run it down his shell-like back plates, turning her own back to everyone and shielding him. “It’s fine, it’s okay, shhh, calm down, buddy. We’re okay. We’re okay. No knifing anybody with your- tail. Thing. Okay? Just… gotta calm down. Just… shh, kiddo… it’s gonna be alright… you’ll be okay, I got you. You’re safe.”

April feels his tail stop slashing around, and slowly, carefully, come back to curl around her middle. She only feels a brief moment of fear she’ll get stabbed by the thin barb, but no pain comes as the tip curls around to her front.

There’s quiet, rapid conversation behind her, and April casts a glance over her shoulder as a harsher whisper-shout makes her friend stiffen in fear.

“Hey!” she snaps at everyone gathered. “Shut up and go away!” The stunned silence following that is satisfying on a level.

Not the politest thing she’s ever said, but she’s sick and exhausted by the emotional roller coaster and there’s a kid in her arms crying still. Not okay by any account.

Oh god the military made tiny Kaijus that are actually tiny babies and April is literally just some teenager. What the hell is she supposed to do about all this? The minute she lets go of him he’ll probably end up back in a lab- a lab her dad works in, does he know that this kid is a literal kid-?

A hundred terrible scenarios flash across her mind about what might be done to her little friend, and April feels even sicker than she was already.

“…April? Are you alright?”

She looks over her shoulder again, at her carefully approaching father. His dark forehead has sweat sheen to it, and he’s darting glances between her and the Kaiju growling at him.

April shushes him again, and he quiets for the most part. He stills tightens his tail around her, though. Determined to stay, determined to defend.

Oh, but he’s so small, and clearly so young, and god, what even happened to create a creature like this? To create a person like this? A scaly little person with a tail and fangs and bioluminescence, who is terrified out of his mind and only trusts April.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” April finally responds, holding her friend in a gentle hug and wondering if she’s the first person to have ever done so.

“Did it… hurt you anywhere? Can you get it to-”

“He’s not an it,” April says firmly, feeling abruptly and fiercely protective. “He’s a little kid, dad. What the hell?”

What the hell does the military want with him? What the hell can I do to prove he’s a person? What the hell did you do, dad?

“Did you know he can talk?” April asks, angry and sad. “Did you know he learn words after only a few tries? Did you know anything like that about him?”

Her father is quiet for a moment, and then says, “No… no I didn’t. They weren’t supposed to be able to do those things.”

“…well he can,” April says, and hugs her little friend tighter. He makes a soft sound of confusion, and presses his cold flat nose to her neck, huffing in concern.

She takes a deep breath, and looks back again. “How many more?” she asks, uncaring that there’s still a few soldiers lingering in the doorway and clearly not on board with what’s happening.

“…three more,” her dad answers, a look of dread entering his expression. “We made four of them. They were only supposed to be subjects for observation and study. Kaiju on a smaller scale, with the ability to respond to communications and possibly even communicate back. But… it wasn’t supposed to be more than that.”

“What did you do to make him small and smart?” April asks, already knowing the answer.

“…we mixed human DNA into the sequence. It was a choice from above my station, hon, I swear. We didn’t know.”

April sighs, and wonders if any adults even try to remember the stuff science fiction and fantasy taught you about playing god with life.

“I think you did a lot more than make pocket-sized Kaiju, dad,” April says, petting her friend’s plated back as he makes a rumbly little purr against her shoulder.

Her dad lets out a ragged breath. “I’m starting to think that, too.”

April gets to keep holding her little friend- someone who turns out to be Donatello, according to the codename she drew out of a hat two months ago, back in her home apartment with her dad. He’d told her it’s for an upcoming project, and she’d thought the game of pulling famous artists out of a hat was just that. A game.

She named them all, all four of them, however indirectly and unknowingly. They’re only a handful of weeks old now- and already so big and smart, compared to human children- but they’re still so… young. Vulnerable.

April cradles Donatello until he falls asleep, nestled against her and playing with her shoulder length coils. Her father sends the soldiers out of the room, and someone important looking shows up in a uniform with a lot of medals and stripes on it.

April clutches Donatello close, who refuses to relinquish his own desperate clutch, and tries to talk a woman nearly three times her age around to April’s point of view.

It doesn’t work how she wants it to, but there’s room for future debate. More discussions and tests to be conducted, and a chance.

April is going to seize that chance and sink her teeth into it and refuse to let go, much like how Donatello does when he gets the idea to starting biting her hair.

She coaxes him off that idea by heckling her dad into handing over one of the hard candies he’s always got in his pockets. It goes over well, and from the intent expression of her father, and his fellow scientists peering in through the doorway, this is Donatello’s first experience with sugary sweets.

He likes it. A lot. Crunching it between his incisors and asking for more afterwards, using his most polite so far, “Say p’ease?”

April’s dad and his boss nearly fall out of their chairs at that. One of the scientists in the doorway clutches his chest and just about faints. It’s a brief spell of relief from the seriousness of things, and April makes sure Donatello gets the candy he so politely asked for.

Donatello is a little heavy by the time they lead her back to his containment cell, which is a room a little smaller than a child’s would be. And it’s bare of anything but a pet bed and some blankets shoved into a corner.

April feels so, so very bad for peeling her sleeping friend off herself, and gently lowering him to rest in the bed. She covers him up with the blankets, and sees him curl into a little ball underneath.

April is stuck for a moment, just watching the blankets rise and fall with his breathing. She doesn’t know what his future from this point will be like, and that scares the daylights out of her.

It only took about two hours for her to get this attached. God knows what she’ll feel like in another week, or less.

It’s hard to get up and walk out, but the rules are that the tests get done before anything is concrete, and that includes April staying away to not contaminate the procedure.

April is tired, still feverish, and now she’s angrily sad on top of all that. She puts one foot in front of the other, and forces herself to make it home before lying down and passing out from sheer exhaustion.

April has uneasy dreams that night, blurry and unhappy, and continues to until she sees Donatello again, and knows he’s going to be okay. That they all will be, him and his incredible siblings.

The next time she picks up Donatello, April is certain she’d never put him down if she could. Him, or any of the other little Kaiju children. Small, and strange, and so in need of somebody to love them.

Of course, within a few years, she can’t even hope to carry around any of them. By that point, they can lift her, and do so just to show off.

But she doesn’t forget the first time few times, how it felt to have Donnie’s tail coil around her midriff and curl tightly there. How it felt to have Raph’s puppyishly big hands hold onto hers as they walked through the hall. How it felt when Leo would cling to her legs and refuse to let go. How it felt to have Mikey clamber up her back and demand piggyback rides as long as he could get them.

When they’re older, they tend more to pick up April and carry her around. It’s easy, since they double in size within the first two years, and then keep going until they tower over everybody on base.

April never does forget, though. And never wants to.

Commission info & Kofi link.

[alteridolriley]

Overworked

Prompt: “Your eyes are red…were you crying?” Fandom: Sanders Sides Pairings: Heavily implied analogical, obviously haha Warnings: None that I can think of~ Word Count: 2,015 (This one got away from me a bit…)

Enjoy, anon!

Virgil sat in the common area of the mindscape on one end of the rather large brown couch. He had his headphones over his ears, drowning out the sound of Roman and Patton playing a video game close by. Patton kept winning and Virgil was tired of hearing Roman’s loud complaining But you don’t even know how to play this game!! Virgil played with the strings on his jacket absentmindly realizing that ever since the most recent video, they hadn’t done much of anything. Patton was happier for sure, constantly asking Roman to conjure up more and more puppies. They couldn’t stay forever and eventually had to disappear. Roman made sure to always bring back the little black one. Patton had named him Logan Jr. much to the dismay of the real Logan. Logan… “Hey… guys?” Virgil said, pulling off his headphones. “What?” Roman said shortly, not really paying attention. His tongue was sticking out of his mouth as he tried to focus on the screen. “Can you… please focus on me?” Virgil asked. Without question, Patton paused the game causing Roman to sigh in defeat, and they both turned to look at the dark trait. “…when’s the last time anyone’s seen Logan?”

Patton put his right hand to his chin. “Hmmm, he didn’t eat dinner with us or breakfast this morning.” He put the puffball on the end of his hoodie string to his lips, his eyes focused on it as he thought. “Now that I think about it, he kept me from coming in his room yesterday afternoon with the lunch I made him.” Patton’s face fell and he crossed his arms, clearly upset.

“Why worry about it though?” Roman questioned. He fiddled around with the game controller in his hands. “Logan has shut us out before. I’ll bet he’s just excited about Thomas taking that astrology course. Maybe he’s just really into all of his current notes?” Suddenly, Roman stood up and Patton followed suit. “Thomas is calling you, too?” Patton asked and Roman nodded. “Yes. He has an audition today for a stage play.” Roman explained. He leaned towards Virgil. “I guess if it bothers you enough you can go check on him. I’m sure he’s fine though.” The two sides disappeared heading to help Thomas with his audition. Virgil pulled off his headphones and threw them onto the couch, leaving behind his phone as well. He sunked down and immediately arrived at the entrance to Logan’s room. It was eerily silent and there wasn’t any light coming from under the door. Virgil grabbed the handle and tried to turn it, unsuccessfully. The latch was locked. Virgil didn’t want to just break into Logan’s room, but the longer he stood there, the more anxious he got about the situation. He didn’t want it to get so bad that it affected Thomas. He shook his head trying to push back those negative thoughts, focusing on his breathing. He sunk down again and rose into Logan’s room. Virgil ignored his head spinning and realized how dark it was. It was nearly as dark as his room. There was a small lamp on, sitting on a nearby table. A lump in the shape of a person under a rather large blanket was sitting at the desk. Virgil walked towards the figure only then realizing how hot it was in the room. He tried to cool himself by fanning his shirt. He leaned towards the figure and pulled at the blanket gently. It slid off into his hands, revealing a very dishelveled Logan, his left hand tapping a pen on the desk in a pattern like motion. His right hand was propping up his head. Logan did not look like himself; his hair was a mess and his tie was loose. “Logan…?” Virgil asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Logan jumped at the sound of his voice, standing up. Virgil hopped backwards with his heart racing a mile a minute. “Oh… goodness Virgil. I didn’t hear you…” Logan responded after turning around. His voice was breathy like he had just run a mile. “…what do you need?” Logan didn’t let go of the chair. Virgil held up the blanket. “Mind first explaining why you’re covered up in a dark and stifling hot room?” Logan dropped his pen and pushed his hands into his eyes, wiping his forehead off in one motion. “…this is very unlike you.” Virgil realized his voice came off harsh but he didn’t correct himself. Something was wrong. “I… I was on the cusp of a breakthrough. Thomas needs a new plan of action for these next couple of videos to make sure he has time for those on top of the class he signed up for…” Logan began to try and clean up the desk of papers. Virgil’s eyes began to adjust to the darkness of the room and he couldn’t believe what he saw. Papers everywhere: the desk, the floor, all over the bed and even tacked to the wall. Virgil scratched his neck. He didn’t want to push the issue but he knew he couldn’t leave it the way it was. “Logan… are you sure you’re okay?” Virgil asked, bending down to look at the papers. They were all full of notes front and back. They were possible schedules, tons of random astrology facts, possible ideas for new videos. Virgil noticed the handwriting was very scribbled and unlike Logan’s normal, nearly perfect, script.

Logan shuffled the papers on the desk. “Y-yes, every-everything is absolutely fine. I-I’m just a bit d-disorganized today.” His breath was still extremely shaky, but he refused to stop moving. “I-I-I-I have to get this done today.”

“Logan, hey, maybe you should take a break-”

“I’ve still have to finish the schedule for next month-”

“Logan-”

“He has to have time for his friends as well, but we must make time for the homework that’s sure to come from the class-”

“Logan, you need to slow down-”

“But his fans don’t deserve to wait forever either. Maybe we can fit in another short video around-”

“Logan-”

“WHAT?!” Logan shouted, whipping around quickly.

Virgil finally got a full look at Logan’s face. His cheeks were flushed and sweat was dripping down his forehead. What caught Virgil’s eyes…was Logan’s eyes.

“Your eyes are red… were you crying?” Virgil asked. Logan’s face turned from exhausted to angry in one full second. Virgil immediately regretted his question.

“No! I said I’m fine and I-” Logan raised his right arm to point at Virgil in defiance but brought his hand to his head, closing his eyes.

The logical trait began to sway, losing his footing. He released a breath and began to fall forward towards Virgil.

“Logan!”

Virgil’s flight or fight reflex kicked in; his body moved on its own, standing up and catching Logan in his arms. Logan had fallen completely unconscious. Virgil kneeled down and held Logan up on his left arm, feeling his forehead. He was burning up and breathing very rapidly. Virgil looked around the room; he felt his own heart beginning to race. What should he do? What could he do? Would Logan be okay? What if he never woke up?

Virgil shook his head, trying to block out all of the negative thoughts. “…I have to help Logan. That’s my focus.” Virgil said to himself, putting his other arm under Logan’s legs. He tried to regulate his breathing; losing control wasn’t an option here.

He picked him up gently and carried him over to his bed. Ignoring the papers on the bed, he pulled the blanket back, trying to not drop him. The papers scattered all over the floor as Virgil laid the sick one down. Logan stirred a bit, his breathing still heavy and his eyes scrunched tight.

Virgil didn’t want to leave him but he had no choice. He quickly sunk out of the room and ventured into the kitchen. Virgil dug into the medicine cabinet, grabbing two different types of medication and a wet cloth. He sunk back down and reappeared in Logan’s room. It was strange that the room wasn’t having any effect on him, but he decided to ignore it. It let him have enough focus on Logan.

Virgil walked over to the bed. “W-what?” Logan was grabbing onto the blanket with both hands, his face contorted in fear. He was moving back and forth as if he was trying to get away from something. “Hey-hey Logan!”

“W-where is anyone?” Logan said in his sleep, barely above a whisper. “Am I alone?” A single tear fell down his cheek.

Virgil sat down all of the items he brought and began to reach for Logan. He placed his hand on Logan’s face, wiping away the tear. “Shhhhh…” he tried to be calm and it seemed like Logan responded to the touch. His eyes untensed a bit. “It’s okay… I’m right here. You’re not alone… I’m here.” Virgil held his breath as Logan stirred a bit more before opening his eyes.

“…where…am I?” Logan asked. His voice seemed back to normal.

“You’re in your bed, which is right where you should be.” Virgil explained. He reached over to the side table, grabbing the wet cloth and spinning it in the air to get it cold again. “Working yourself so much that you get sick? Seriously unlike you, Pocket Protector.” He reached over and put the cloth onto Logan’s forehead. Logan tried to move his hand up to his head but was still to physically exhausted. “Don’t bother, you’re too weak.” Virgil pulled over the chair from the table and sat down.

“W-why are you here?” Logan asked, giving up on trying to stand. He relaxed himself back onto his pillows.

“I… realized it had been awhile since I had seen you.” Virgil tried to hide the blush appearing on his face but he realized it was impossible as the lamp on the table was right next to him. “I was worried, okay?”

“I…” Logan began to speak but stopped.

“Don’t ever do this again.” Virgil stated firmly. He looked down at his lap. “Don’t ever duck out on me again, don’t ever hide anything from me.” He fiddled with the strings on his jacket and bit his lip. He felt tears coming, the emotions from all recent events catching up with him. “I… I need you Logan. To come in here seeing you overworking yourself, and passing out on me…” He blinked, trying to push his tears away but he couldn’t. Two single tears fell down his face, one out of each eye. “…please take better care of yourself.” Virgil wiped away his tears with his sleeve and quickly reached for the medicine on the side table. He put it on Logan’s lap quickly, planning on walking away, but Logan reached out and grabbed his hand. His grip wasn’t strong but Virgil couldn’t bear to tear his hand away.

“I’m sorry, Virgil. Truly… I made a mistake.” Logan explained. “I took on more than I should have and I’m sorry that I worried you.” He sighed, letting go of Virgil’s hand. “I didn’t want to mess up anything, especially now since we’re going to be taking on more. The schedule has to be perfect and I wasn’t about to accept failure as an option.”

Virgil sighed. “I can understand that, but above anything else…” He turned towards Logan and walked back, putting his face so close to Logan’s that he could feel his breath. “…I care more about you than any schedule or classes. Thomas will be fine; he always manages to figure things out.” Virgil put his forehead onto Logan’s and took a deep breath. “Now, take your medicine and sleep, nerd. I’ll check on you later.”

The anxious one stepped away from the bed and immediately sunk out of the room, his heart racing. If only he had the ability to explain to Logan exactly how he felt. If only.

Maybe someday.

[ishouldprobablybewriting]

Heavy Hitters- Chapter Three

Heavy Hitters: Outlaw Country pt 3

Sara convinces an old friend to join the Waverider team- as research and tech guru only, or so she said. As the newbie struggles to adjust to the team and the team struggles to adjust to her, Sara is playing a different game all together. One the new girl might not like too much.

Fandom: Legends of Tomorrow (or Flash or Arrowverse since it’s Mick Rory, but specifically LoT)

Pairing: Mick Rory x Plus Size OFC (cause Mick totally likes thick ladies)

Word Count: 1624

Tags/Warnings: Language, Cannon violence

Part one     |     Masterlist

A/N: Fuck yeah fight scene! (Sorry if it’s shitty) And bit more Emily. Starts out with  2x6: Outlaw Country and follows it almost word for word with the new OC of course. Still not much interaction between Emily and Mick in this one. It will happen soon I promise!!  Lemme know what you think.

Micks gruff voice filled the room, “I’ll drink to that!” The men clinked their glasses and laughed loudly. A pretty brunette in the same red dress as the earlier blonde joined the two at the table, rubbing a gloved hand on Mick’s shoulder.

Turnbull gave the woman a sideways look, “Ya’ gonna have som’a that?”

Outside, Hex’s patience wanes. Sara hears his gun click behind her and looks back to see him checking and loading it. He looks at her from under his hat. “Ya’ gonna sit around while those two bend elbows?”

Sara turns on him quick, putting a firm hand on his chest. “What’re you doin’?”

“Imma Collect my bounty whether you like it or not.” He wasn’t backing down.

“Stick to the plan, Jonah.” She pushes him back a step. Emily steps up behind him, tentatively, waiting for a signal from Sara.

“Ya guy on the inside ain’t stickin’ to the plan. Why the ‘ell should I?” Hex steps around Sara and she lets him go. Sara sighs deeply looking back at Emily.

“Sara?” Amaya’s voice cracks through the comms, “What do you want me to do?”

“Brace yourself.”

Turnbull’s still laughing when Hex storms through the doors to the saloon, letting out a thunderous, “Turnbull!” It was like the saloon slowed for a few seconds; patrons gasped and stopped their partying, the piano player ends his jaunty tune abruptly, and Turnbull’s laugh dies short. He turns to face Hex.

“Well. If it ain’t the Great Jonah Hex, himself!” Turnbull laughs the last part looking at Mick. “Oooh! You got quite’a pair ta walk into my establishment like this. Ya like a cockroach- hard ta kill!”

“I’m takin’ you in,” Hex pulls his pistols and aims for Turnbull, “ Alive or dead. Your choice.”

Turnbull narrowed his eyes at Hex. “I choose… dead!” His words signaled nearly every man in the saloon to stand up and aim whatever gun they had at Hex. “Actually, Jonah, I’m glad you paid me this lit’le visit. See,” Turnbull held his revolver up, making a show of- oddly enough- emptying the chamber of every bullet it held, “I’ve been workin’ on a little somethin’. Seems that ore that I discovered, well.” The bullets he loaded into his gun had a strange black tip. “Its got special qualities.”

Turnbull slowly raised his gun and grinned as he took aim at Hex. Amaya looked on a little unsure what to do.

Turnbull’s finger slowly pulled the trigger.

Hex braced to take the bullet.

Amaya held her breath, waiting.

Mick waited for his opportunity.

And Sara burst in, whipping Turnbull’s wrist, knocking his aim off.

The bullet blurred past Hex. It hit the empty wooden wall behind Hex just as he dove to the ground.

For a deafening second, the air inside the saloon freezed hot and humid. Breath stuck in throats as blue white light explodes into black billowly smoke.

The world inside the saloon slammed back into movement. Bodies dropped to the ground. The crew burst into action.

Sara uses her whip to snatch Turnbull’s legs from under him. The man next to Mick yelps at the pain of his powerful elbow meeting smashing into his face before he drops unconscious to the floor. Ducking one punch, Sara kicks another in the throat and spins low before punching out the next outlaw in line.

Mick grabbed the rifle from an outlaw next to him, whipping him across the face with it and knocking him out. Another outlaw turns around to fight Mick but Amaya takes him out before he lands a hit. She takes his gun and slams his head into the table hard.

Amaya tosses the rifle to Mick and he cocks them both in an impressive action. The tell-tale shit-stirring grin grew on his face. “Let’s party!” He begins firing at outlaws as Amaya breaks a bottle over a man's head. A few people run up stairs and out into the street for cover hoping to escape the chaos erupting in the bar. Hex shoots one man then begins grappling with another before falling down with the man smashing his face in with his pistol. Hex gets up, realizing they’re out numbered in the crowded bar, and steps through the huge hole torn into the side of the saloon by the ore bullet. Amaya runs after him, knocking another man unconscious on her way out. Mick follows slowly, walking backwards and firing both rifles into the crowd of outlaws. “Com’on!” Mick was still riled up. He ducks out.

The three from the bar meet up with the three from the mining camp just outside the saloon. Emily met them at a crate laden wagon a few yards from the saloon. Her gaze flitting between the hole, the door and her crewmates. Her fists clenched and her teeth as she searched for Sara.

Instead all she saw was more murderous outlaws.

“Man,” Jax half joked, “Why do you guys get to have all the fun?”

“We just got back from Turnbull’s mines-” Nate looked around the barrels to take a few clean shots. “Reason for the aberration?”

“He’s digging up dwarf star.”

Turnbull saunters through the hole, raising his gun and cocks it taking haphazard aim.

Emily perks up, “Sara!”

“Go! Get back to the ship!”

The air shakes and another blue plume explodes from the cart. The team jumps back, avoiding any serious injury but not quite clear of the blast.

“Run yew yella bellied cowards!”

Nate fires at Turnbull as they slowly retreat. Turnbull returns fire blowing up another large stack of crates.

He reloads leisurely.

Henchmen fire.

Mick puts himself in the line of fire.

“Finally some excitement!”

He had that crazy look in his eye again.

Amaya shouted for him but he ignored her.

Emily had a bad feeling. She kept her eyes wide and roving trying to take in everything around her.

“An’ here I thought you and me’s was gonna be friends!”

“I don’t have friends,” Mick growled.

The knot that was not Emily’s stomach tightened. She ground her teeth to alleviate the pressure she felt in the air.

Mick pressed the triggers of both rifles down.

Click.

He tried again.

The empty click echos in Emily’s ears and her face drops.

“Fuck.”

Mick tossed the guns down but stands his ground. Turnbull scrunches up his face but aims for Mick nonetheless. It seemed to happen too slowly and too fast all at one.

Mick stood. Turnbull fired. The exploding dwarf star bullet raced. And Nate, all shiny and silver, stepped in front of Mick. In front of the gun. In front of the bullet that didn’t bounce off him like usual.

The silver drained from his face, from his hands, down his neck and wrists. He glanced down and saw red. He was bleeding. He was shot. He stumbled back. Mick caught him and began to pull him back. Amaya runs forward, panic in her voice.

“Nate?! Nate! Are you okay?”

Mick pulls him back to the flimsy cover of crates. Blood is covering Nate's hand now. “I’m made of steel, remember?” He refuses to look at his wound again.

Amaya wasn’t sure what to focus on, her eyes bouncing from Nate to Turnbull and back. “Oh- Oh my gosh.”

Turnbull, satisfied with the damage he's caused, lowers his gun as the team begins to retreat to the safety of the Waverider.

“Amaya, give them room,” Sara orders. They steal a few horses on the outside of town. Mick lifts Nate up onto one. Sara pushes Emily towards it, her eye contact deeper in meaning that simply ‘lets get back as quick as possible’. “Take care of him. “

Emily freezes for a split second. The pathetic deathly groan that slips from Nate’s lips quash any argument she had. She carefully swings her legs up and over the horse, maneuvering herself behind Nate and pull him back so his back is reclined against her chest. Gathering the reins in one hand and pressing the other firmly to his still bleeding wound, Emily nods and kicks the horse into a fast pace.

“Will he be okay?”

“They’ll meet us there,” Sara meets Amaya’s eyes again.

“I meant with her.”

“I trust her. You will, too. Now lets go.”

The Waverider was a ways out still. They had been riding hard for nearly 20 minutes and Nate was beginning to cough hard. Emily slowed the horse to give his body some reprieve but kept pressing forward. That is until, he coughed up blood.

Her mind raced as she slowed the horse to a walk.

“No, it's okay. I can handle it. Just a little blood. And I’m made of steel.”

“Shut up, okay?”

“I’m made of steel. I’m Commander Steel.” His voice was getting weaker and weaker.

She sighed. “Okay. Okay, Commander. I’ve got a trick. I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but I need this to be our little secret, okay?”

He babbled something softly. Emily took it as confirmation.

She took a deep breath and pressed his body against hers. “Focus, Commander. Breathe with me.”

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

Dramatic and deep, eventually, Nate’s breath matched hers. “Good,” she cooed.

Slowly she pulled Nate’s limp hand from his chest and replaced it with hers. Her palm flat and firm over the bullet hole, began to warm and gave a subtle glow. Nate’s head lulled onto her shoulder as he passed out.

“Good, you’re going good, Commander.”

The bleeding stopped, as did the glowing. But the warmth stayed and so did her hand. She got the horse moving again and rushed the rest of the distance to the ship.

This was going to take some explaining.

[freegrain]

Fated : Hunted Ch4

{Freezerburn- Yang x Weiss}

The two Demon-Hunters, Weiss Schnee and Yang Xiao Long, are the greatest of their time. But when they're hired to hunt down a duo names 'Ladybug' their skills are put to the test.

_______________________________________

Part Two of the Fated Series.

Read on AO3 or FF.net.

_______________________________________

Yang could feel Weiss' arms around her as they drove out of town. The wind whistled past them, her motorbike helmet protecting her from its chill. The road was pretty quiet, only a few odd cars drifting by. The sun was out and shining, though it wasn't warm.

They were heading out to the woods that surrounded the Torchwick estate. After reports that the culprits had fled into them, they both reasoned that there would be the easiest place to catch a trail.

From the reports of their friend Pyrrha in the police force, Blake Belladonna had never been back to her family home. And since the demon didn't have any human property this meant that the duo had to be hiding out somewhere in nature.

How far from estate they'd fled Yang wasn't sure. Airborne demons were a lot harder to track than those without wings but the surrounding trees with high arching branches gave them a little bit of hope. Scents captured on the leaves from the brush of a wing or low flyer would lead them to their prey.

Yang pulled up at the side of the road, barely down the way from the entrance to the Torchwick estate. The place was even quieter than it had been yesterday, hardly a person in sight.

Usually the place, being a centre of business for certain people, hummed with life and car passing through almost every hour. But now the skeleton force manned the walls and no people entered through the gates.

It was gloomy and dull, a stage of mourning for the estate.

Yang slipped off the bike and removed her helmet. The air was light, breezy to the point of chilly. Which would be useful for scent tracking if they managed to find a trail. Keyword was if.

Weiss jumped off behind her, exhaling gently. Her partner smoothed out her skirts and glanced upwards, scanning the sky around them. There weren't much clouds and the sun gleamed down at them. It was truly a fine day to go hunting.

Yang pulled her gauntlets from the saddlebags, sliding her hands into her favourite weapons. They'd been modelled just for her and fit skin tight but comfortably. She clenched a fist and grinned.

"You ready to move, Snowflake?"

Weiss clipped her sword to her belt. Weiss was a fencing master. She'd once fought in the national championships and come out having won it but completely bored. Yang had never met anyone that seemed close to her skill. Besides fencing, Weiss was also physically adept with a few martial arts under her belt.

Yang herself was highly trained in several martial arts, ranging from uses in street fighting to fighting a dozen armed opponents at a time. So she wasn't a slack herself. She could keep up with Weiss no bother.

Weiss slid her 'glyph glove' on. An unofficial Schnee product that allowed her to create these glyphs to aid her in battle. Her partner nodded. "Let's move."

The two entered the forest, a silence settling over them. They were looking for tracks, a trail, something that would give them a clue where they'd find their prey.

But if the demon had wings, trails on land would be few and far between. Still they searched.

The woods were quiet around here, only a few animals or birds hopping around. Which was quite useful for them because they could listen for any unnatural noises. After a few minutes the two split off, heading for different areas. While Weiss stayed on the ground, Yang started to climb the trees. Up and up she climbed until she could no more.

From here she could see the extent of the whole forest and how far it stretched from end to end. The distant mountains marked the end and the many miles between could be hiding them anywhere.

She exhaled. This was going to be a long day.

She jumped from tree to tree, circling around the edge of the mansion. Something. She took a deep breath. Years of hunting had trained her nose to recognise scents that were out of the ordinary. Once found, the upgrades to her weapon would let her track it to their prey. But no matter where she ran, all she got was the damp scent of leaves and nature.

An hour passed and then a second before Yang's eyes spotted something. She almost missed it as she turned to jump into another tree.

Heading north towards the mountain was a dark shape. A winged creature. From this distance she could make out any details except that they were flying and at a high speed as well. She frowned. Were those… rose petals falling behind them? Red against the dark colour of the wings, falling like a light rain down into the woods.

There they were. Ladybug. Black and red.

Yang curled her hand into a fist. What were the odds. To set off on a hunt only to have them fall straight into your lap? These two, despite their apparent talent at fighting, were not good at hiding.

"Weiss! Weiss!"

It took a few seconds but her partner joined her on her branch. She opened her mouth to ask what was the matter but then saw where her eyes were angled. Weiss closed her mouth.

"It's them…." she breathed. "Ladybug…."

Already the excited gleam Weiss got in her eyes was burning. Yang could understand. The thrill, the burn, the tsunami of emotion you got from the chase, it was life changing.

Yang flexed her arm, feeling her blood starting to thrum. "Up and at 'em," she grinned.

Weiss drew her sword and leapt up so her feet were balanced on Yang's forearm. Yang planted her foot down, lowering her arm to get ready to throw.

This was their technique for catching the ones that run. Demons were naturally faster and trying to reach them on foot was near impossible. So Yang, using the power focused in her gauntlets, would hurl Weiss ahead to intercept them while she ran to catch up.

It worked every time they used it.

"Be careful Snowflake?" Yang warned.

Weiss gave her a smile. "Naturally."

And Yang flung her into the air, a high arching throw. She should have started running there but she paused, waiting to see what would happen.

Her aim was nearly perfect as always, Weiss heading straight for them. Midair her partner spun, a glyph shimmering at her feet. Weiss leapt and slashed. The demon's screech was audible from where Yang stood and she knew she had to move. Weiss and the demon fell from the sky into the forest and Yang started to run.

~•~•~•~

Suddenly there was a hot pain right across her shoulder and Ruby screamed. Blake was screaming something too but she couldn't hear it. Feet thudded against her lower back before pushing off again. Ruby plummeted through the tree, wings curling around Blake in an attempt to protect. Down and down, crack after crack. Branches snapped against her body like whips. Until they hit the ground.

Ruby hit the ground in a roll, her shoulder screeching with pain from the impact. They rolled until they hit a tree and Ruby let out a shuddering gasp. Blake had wriggled out of her grasp and was hovering over her, hands touching her face frantically. Her mouth was moving but she could barely hear it. Fuck. Fuck.

A person landed gracefully behind her.

Blake spun around productively, ears flattening against her head. Ruby's chest rose and fell and she crawled onto her front. Her wings rustled on her back, pain flaring up from that tiny movement. Whoever had struck her had struck in her a way that would make it utter hell to fly before healing. They'd grounded her.

"Ladybug, I assume," the girl said, her sword pointing towards the ground. She had long white hair and wore all white, save the slight red around her collar.

Her long thin sword dripped with Ruby's blood.

"Must say," the girl drawled, taking a step forward. This earned her a hiss from Blake. "You both are quite disappointing. Killers of Roman Torchwick? I expected better."

"Weiss Schnee," Blake snarled, raising her weapon.

The girl didn't even react. "Yes. And you are Blake Belladonna. Care to introduce me to your friend? She has such pretty wings."

Ruby stood, placing a hand on Blake's shoulder. She could stand, she could fight. She just couldn't fly properly. She ran her tongue across her teeth, showing off the sharp ends. "Ruby Rose. Her fated."

Weiss took another step forward. "Oh yes, that would make sense. You demons and your fates. Wow. I'm almost impressed."

Ruby reached out a hand and summoned Crescent Rose. With her weapon in her hand she felt safer. Stronger. Weiss raised an eyebrow, giving her an approving nod.

"You good with that? Let's find out!"

Suddenly Weiss was coming at them, her sword slashing in an x. Ruby grabbed Blake and jumped out of the way, only managing to parry the next strike. A foot looped behind her and a slash cut her thigh. Ruby spun away.

By God that girl was fast, another strike slashing before she'd even landed. But Ruby's whole thing was speed. She gritted her teeth.

Ruby lunged in, scythe arching through the air in a rapid spin. Weiss blocked and jumped back, feet landing on the tree behind her. She powered off towards her and Ruby side stepped.

Weiss was back again, lunging in towards her chest. Ruby parried and fired off a round at her. She missed of course, the white haired girl spinning.

Suddenly something black shot by Weiss and the girl hissed. Blake followed her weapon. She kicked Weiss across the face and spun around again. Weiss had already scrambled away, putting distance between the two. She was bleeding from a gash on her shoulder. But she smiled coldly at them.

Ruby was debating trying to fly away at this point. It would hurt like hell but if she used her power to its full potential, they could run. Weiss was human. No matter what she tried she'd never be able to catch them.

Ruby spun Crescent Rose and Blake joined her side. They exchanged glances.

"Hey, did I miss much?" a cheery voice broke through the woods behind Weiss.

A tall, blonde woman appeared behind them, cracking her knuckles. Purple eyes gleamed at them with frightening amusement.

"Babe you're bleeding," she frowned.

Weiss shrugged her off. "It's nothing." Her icy gaze focused on the two of them.

"Yang. Yang Xiao Long," Blake hissed. "The final part of Freezerburn."

So these two were the famed Freezerburn. Maybe she could see why they were legendary. They'd only slain Torchwick yesterday and here they were, ready to bring them in for justice. Mad. It was mad.

Yang exhaled, her hands smoking. Those were her weapons Ruby realised. Her fists, enhanced and ready. She could only imagine how much it would hurt for her to get a hit from them.

"Time to get cracking."

Yang and Weiss both lunged at the same time. Ruby barely had to time to dodge Yang's first punch before another caught her at the side. The pure force of it sent her sprawling into a tree.

Blake let out a screech as Weiss darted for her. Ruby felt a slight throb in her chest, Blake's pain. Shit.

Ruby's vision was suddenly blocked by mane of hair and then fiery fists. Ruby was kept on her toes to keep Yang off her. The fight was vicious but very few injuries were actually caused.

Ruby swung and slashed, going to the next of her ability to take her down. But Yang matched her blow for blow, block for block. She seemed to predict her movements, shifting her attacks right in her oath each time. Ruby had barely any time to block, nevermind much counters.

But for some reason every time she hit Yang, the girl came back faster and stronger. Of course they traded the few scratches and broken skin but nothing major was done.

But the first blow, the one across Ruby's shoulder, was starting to ache and ache. If they were going to escape they'd need to do it soon. Blood was dripping down her shoulder, leaving a trail where she jumped.

"Must say," Yang panted, barely dodging Crescent Rose for the sixth time. "You're pretty good. Maybe inhumanly good."

Ruby's attention was elsewhere. Yang and Weiss had somehow managed to place themselves between her and Blake. This wasn't good. They couldn't stay here with them. They were too strong and quick.

Ruby leapt backwards, firing at Yang. The blonde paused in her advance, deflecting the bullets away. Blake. She needed to get to Blake. Her fated's eyes darted towards her and for the second they connected, a message passed between them.

Blake nodded. Ruby twisted her body and spread her wings. Pain flared across her body but she jumped away. Feet pressed against the tree and powered over Yang's head.

Weiss turned towards her, blue eyes narrowed and sword ready but Blake kicked her arm out of the way. Ruby landed next to her, Crescent Rose vanishing.

"Don't you dare!" Weiss snarled.

Blake grabbed hold of Ruby's arms, chest rising and falling. "Go."

Ruby leapt into the air, the strain on her wings only increasing. Up they went over the trees until they were hovering in open air.

To fly Ruby was going to need to use her semblance. She rarely used it at all because of the strain it put on her body. But if she didn't do it right now they'd both die. She exhaled, feeling it deep in her chest.

"Yang!" Weiss screeched.

Her partner was at her side in a flash. Ruby could feel her power growing in the pit of her stomach. Only a few seconds. Just a few more. Blake clung tighter to her. Ruby felt her power reach its strength and she spun in the air, aiming for the mountains. And she tore towards the mountains at record speed.

But the very second before she took off she felt a hand close around each of her ankles.

Ruby's strength started to vanish as she crested the mountain, speed decreasing dramatically. Blake's hands ran up to her face.

"Ruby, Ruby, slow down," her fated begged. "You're losing too much blood. Ruby! Ruby please!"

But she couldn't slow down. Those two, Freezerburn, were clinging to her. Even now they'd hadn't let go. If she slowed down they'd only be able to attack. She couldn't give them that chance.

She flew over the mountain and over the forest behind it. These trees were different, taller, pinier. How far could she go? Her legs were kicking, trying to shake Freezerburn from her legs. But their grips were like iron, not letting go.

But then the pain in her wing seized up and Ruby let out a scream. It was too much for her, trying to carry four people while injured. She just didn't have the strength.

And so she felt from the sky, vision darkening. She could briefly hear Blake screaming her name and then Freezerburn yelling some unholy words.

"Ruby! Ruby! Ruby!"

Ruby blacked out just before they all hit the ground.

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Read Ch2/Ch3/Ch4/Ch5/Ch6