#Damn near every strike in this series is just a white blur

[misterbaritone]

Despite being a comic book, Kengan Ashura(and Omega too I guess) has more motion blur than I’ve ever seen in any other medium.

[wornoutmouse]

Warnings: angst and close call pregnancy

Y'all with all the trama Shiggy got, you know damn well he aint gon be a good daddy right off the bat

Baby daddy shigaraki

You looked at the small pink stick in your hands shaking in fear. "I'm..pregnant." you whimper as the faint lines began to blur from your tears. If it were anyone, absolutely anyone else, then the leader of The Legue of Villains, you would have been fine with taking care of the child on your own. But there would not be a chance of that if he ever found out.

You stand up and run to your kitchen, tossing the pregnancy test into the trash sweating profusely as you glanced into the room your new baby daddy rested in. Different thoughts swirled in your mind about how you could hide this from him. The first few months would be fine but how were you to hide it afterward? Your hands trailed down to your now flat stomach. "I got this." you mutter as you walk to your kitchen pouring you a cup of tea.

An hour later, Shigaraki trails out of the bedroom groggily, hair hanging creepily in his face as he looked at you with piercing red eyes. "Why the hell are you looking at me like that?" he asks making your heart rate pick up ever so slightly. "N-No reason just didn't think you'd be up so early, that's all." Tomura comes behind you and wraps his hands around being careful of his fingers. Even that didn't stop you from feeling faint at how close his hands were to your stomach. 

The first month was easy, you showed little to no symptoms and your stomach remained a normal size. However, that didn't stop you from being paranoid whenever a diaper commercial came on screen. A few weeks after you took the test, you went to the doctors to confirm your fears. "Yes ma'am, it looks to me that you are indeed with child." the doctor said, signing off on a few papers glancing at you, briefly acknowledging your shaken state. "If you're anything to go by, I'd say, either the father doesn't know, or you don't want it." You shook your head, "He doesn't and I don't plan on letting him know." 

The doctor put the clipboard down, "Is this your way of telling me you want an abortion? If that is the route you want to go, I won't judge but this isn't a spur of the moment thing and I want you to be positive you won't be in any danger if someone finds out." You sigh sliding your hands over your scarf-covered hair. "N-No, I think I'll keep the baby, b-but, I don't know what to do." The doctor smiles at you patting your back. "You look like you have a strong head on your shoulders, I'm sure you'll figure it out."

The third month was harder as your bump was finally showing so you could no longer wear your normally form-fitting shirts. Shigaraki had luckily stopped coming around as often due to villain things, something you were grateful for since you could finally give in to your cravings. That plan was soon compromised when Komugiri suddenly materialized on your rather 'indulgent' days. And by indulgent you mean you were propped up on the couch, shirt up, with some ice cream, toast, and two large boxes of french fries. 

"I may have lost most of my human necessities, but I'm sure this amount of eating isn't necessary for normal human consumption." You jump at the sound of his voice, quickly looking around if Komogiri brought someone else with him. "You can't tell him please!" Komugiri looked at you, misty smoke unwavering before a deep sigh erupted from him. "I know not the reason you are keeping this from Tomura, but for now I shall indulge you." You sag slightly relieved. "However." You glared at the misty man. "Now that I know you're carrying the offspring of a sought after villain, I will be checking in on you a lot more. I shall also implement a healthy diet for you and the child."

You groaned at the downright disrespectful amount of joy showing through Komugiri's voice. 

The next 2 months were a game of cat and mouse as you were forced to sneak past Komugiri's watchful eyes to give in to your cravings. "Please! You don't understand, I need a cheese dipped pretzel!" you whined as you were dragged from the pretzel stan by a goon Komugiri had brought along to do the labor for your shopping trip. "Get ahold of yourself young lady, you're causing a scene!" Komugiri reprimanded, truly sounding like a disappointed mother scolding her child. For the rest of the day you pouted, "How the hell are you even sneaking away so much, shouldn't Tomura be suspicious?" 

You would later have to admit that the meals Komugiri prepared, did make up for the food he wrongfully withheld from you. Another good thing that came from the whole ordeal was the doctor visits Komugiri took with you. Although it was rather embarrassing as he stood over the doctor, arms cross watching his every move. "Komugiri, the doctor is washing his hands, I think it's okay." you sigh flipping through a magazine for couches. Komugiri huffed and left the doctor alone, of course after he checked the temperature of the water.

Late in month 8, you were so obviously pregnant that you had developed a large waddle. Something your mother exploited. "Hah! See that's what yo ass get for making fun of me when I was pregnant with your brother!" you'd roll your eyes as you looked at your mother who had now become red in the face with laughter. "That's not fair, this is my first time being pregnant you cant make fun of me!" Your mom scoffed leaning back in her chair, "Girl please. Anyways when am I gon meet yo baby daddy? What was his name? Ziggaraki or whatever?" 

You were quiet for a moment before bursting into tears. "Mommy!!" Your mom looked thoughtfully startled at the outburst. "Girl what the hell wrong with you!" You hiccup and wipe your face, whines increasing. "He doesn't know I'm pregnant, I'm too scared to tell him!" Your mother cooed consoling your the best she could through the screen. "Aw sweety, he does know your pregnant." You wipe your eyes humming in question. "What are you talking about?" 

Behind you, something heavy hit the floor making you quickly swivel around in your chair. There in all his glory stood the man in question staring at you with concealed rage. His eyes stayed at your face before trailing down your body, irises shaking at the sight of your perfectly round belly protruding from the tight confines of your shirt. You swivel back around in your chair cringing at the fear evidently showing on your face. You shiver at the questioning look your mother was giving you but before she could say anything you turn off the video call. 

You shook in your seat refusing to turn around as you heard heavy steps walking towards you. "Turn around." You shook your head squeezing your eyes closed wishing Komugiri was here to help you. You feel the back of the chair bending at the weight being put on it. "Turn the fuck back around Y/N your I will dust this chair." He growls lowly trying to keep some sort of self-control. You refused to move making Shigaraki sigh and do it himself. 

You couldn't bring yourself to look at him so you kept your head-trained down on the floor. 'You're pregnant." Shigaraki wheezed finally letting the realization overtake him. He drops down low to his knees becoming eye level with your belly. "And I wasn't even here for most of it?" Shigaraki became angry making you stiffen and reflexively place a hand over your stomach. Shigaraki doesn't miss this and get's even angrier. "Y-You, hide this from m-me and now you're insulting me b-by acti-ng like I'd actually h-hurt you?!" he screamed at you making your hormones fluctuate from anger to sadness as tears well up in your eyes. 

"This is why Tomura! I didn't know how you'd react! You're not mature enough to handle a baby!" You scream back equally as fears flinching at a strike of pain traveling up your spin at the strain. Tomura chuckled darkly taking a step back throwing his head back in laughter. Giggling as he cards his hands through his stringy white hair and looks at you with a sharp glare. You swallow shallowly, you knew for a fact that a Tomura with a crazed smile was better than a stone-faced Tomura. 

Shigaraki swayed towards you hunched as he took in your fearful features. "Since you're so scared, why don't I make your fears a reality?" The sight of Tomura's hand coming up to your stomach sent you into fight or flight mode. You stand up and grab his wrist, "Look here Lil nigga, I don't care who you are, of how you feel, you not touching my baby." At the moment, you felt on top of the world, until you didn't as you felt something slowly drip down your leg.

Looking down, there was a thick trail of red leaving your genital area. You wail loudly at the sight, legs buckling. Shigaraki stepped away and at that moment, Komugiri materialized next to you. "Y/N!" Shigaraki stumbled, as Komugiri makes a portal and carries your body through it. 'This must be what shock is." you thought to yourself were you layed in Komugiri's arms unable to move as you heard the world pass by you.

There were sounds of frantic yelling and bright lights erupting your vision as you travel from one white room to the next. You were settled on a rather uncomfortable bed as you hear the frantic movement and an incessant beeping noise coming from your right. "Move quickly you bastards or I'll kill you all!" You internally smiled starting to become loopy likely from sedatives. 'Just Tomura being Tomura.' You frowned, 'I hope my baby won't inherit murderous intent.'

'Baby'

'Baby'

'My baby'

You jerk in the bed finally getting a clear head, "MY baby!" you yelled trying to take the needles out of your arms. "Hold her down!" came a feminine voice and you felt a series of hands push down on your shoulders forcing you to lie down. Tears rolled down your face, "My baby!" Shigaraki came near your face, "Y/N it-it'll be fine just....just...just laydown." You had never heard Shigaraki sound unsure of himself and that just angered you more as you gripped the front of your shirt. "You better keep my baby safe your I will ream hell fire on you!" you growled making your quirk startup. "Sedate her!" is all that you hear before your grip was loosened.

The darkness enveloped you and you could only see the worse ahead of you.

You shiver awake breathing heavily before trying to raise yourself off the bed. You were halted by Komugiri's hand. "W-What?" you start off but Komugiri raised a smug finger to his lips before pointing over to the left side of the room. Turning your head you gape at the sight before you. 

Shiagarki, in all his villainous glory, was sleeping in a chair shirtless with a tiny bundle of a blanket over him. "Is that?" You ask looking at Komugiri who nods standing up and walking over to Tomura, carefully removing the bundle of blankets from his arms walking back to you. 

You hear small gurgles and your heart beats faster as Komugiri sets the small weight into your arms. Looking down at the small face of your child, all your problems went away. "Hi there little one." you cooed softly at the child in your arms. The baby had the same dark skin as you but its hair was light blue like its father. "Come on, let mommy see you." you whisper booping your nose against the baby's smaller one making its face scrunch up. 

"Look, Komu, I made this!" you said still sounding slightly loopy. Komugiri chuckled, "You and Tomura are so much alike I see now."

From the other side of the room, Shigaraki jerks in his place standing up and looking franticly around the room effectively disintegrating the armrest. When he makes eye contact with you, he instantly relaxes. Komugiri excuses himself from the room leaving the two of you to awkwardly stare at each other. "So, what happened." you started off not exactly wanting to talk but you knew you had to.

Shigaraki raised his hand to his neck but didn't scratch for some reason. "Preeclampsia, a reaction to stress making your blood pressure go up." You hummed looking down at your infant. "It's so cute." you mumble, "He... it's a boy." Shigaraki chimes in as he gazes at the baby with wide eyes. You smile feeling the waterworks return. "My baby boy."

Shigaraki shuffles awkwardly as he watched you cry silently. "You want..a tissue?" You glare at him nodding. "Can we name him Daku?" Shigaraki hesitantly asks as he brings a box of tissue. "Doesn't that mean Dark in Japanese?" you ask quirking your eyebrow. Shigaraki shrugged, "I mean look at him, he is dark." You look at Shagaraki for a painstakingly long time. "Keep playing with me and I'll name him Komugriri." Shigaraki frowns at that.

"The bastard didn't even tell me and he knew the whole time!" you rolled your eyes at your partner's grumbling. "If you want to call him dark so bad how about...Yami." Shigaraki shook his head, "That's too close to All Might's real name." "I'm not even going to ask how you know that."

You two sit in silence as you gaze at your new unnamed baby. "We can't ignore the elephant in the room Y/N." Shigaraki states putting a hesitant hand on your shoulder. "Ignore what Tomura? about how you caused me to go into labor early. Like threatening to kill both me and our child?!" you said voice raising a bit. Shigaraki looked at you, gears turning. 

There was nothing he could actually say to that for no matter how you could look at, nothing he did was okay. "I...I was scared." You sighed placing your head back on your pillow looking at the tiles above you, wishing that this never happened. "Well, you scared me Tomura." The silence was deafening as Tomura silently gasped, "You know that I would never-" you groan, "No I don't Tomura! I don't know what you would do! Why do you think I hid this from you in the first place!" 

There was no response just as you expected and for some strange reason, that broke you more than getting something half-assed. Small noises bubbled from your arms drawing both your attention to it. "Hey.." Shigaraki mumbled as you slowly watch small slanted eyes open, looking up at you. "His eyes are two different colors Shig." you respond shocked as a perfect little set of brown and red eyes looked up at you. "Cool...c-can I hold him." You playfully glared at Shigaraki, "You had him all while I was sleeping!" 

You name your new baby boy Daiki, Daiki Shigaraki. You of course picked the name since it seemed that all Tomura wanted was a child with a name that represents the darkness inside him, his words not yours. 

I KINDA WANNA CONTINUE THIS

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

S.T. REWRITE - S2:E8; Chapter Eight, The Mind Flayer - [Pt. 1]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

An unlikely hero steps forward when a deadly development puts the Hawkins Lab on lockdown, trapping Will and several others inside.

A/n: This series has blown up so much, I don’t know how to thank you guys! I love you all!!

Warnings: Domestic violence, and a homophobic slur. Ugh, just Billy's dad in general. jc, this guy sucks. If you feel you need to skip this scene altogether, I completely understand. I will place the usual marker [●●●] at the beginning and end so you can scroll quickly. Safe reading, loves!

||3rd Person POV||

As Hopper gazes into the inky darkness, a great unending bellow erupts from within the pit. The elevator cables are struck by something below, indicated by their sudden whip that fell into a dull vibrating blur and soft twang. Immediately, a slender grey claw erupts from the shadows digging into the concrete edge. Emerging after it, was the figure attached, the beasts they could barely make out on the live feed. The same monster from the previous year, that thing this damn lab unleashed unto El and her poor friends. Hopper couldn't believe his eyes or his piss poor luck. Seemingly, neither could Dr. Owens who had numbly stepped closer to the window, next to Hop.

"Mother of God."

With stilled silence, everyone watches, eyes trained on the creature not knowing what to expect. And upon first glance, neither does the mutant. It stalks forward. It's eyeless bud-shaped head inspecting the glass before it rises to its hind legs, placing it's front claws on the glass. On the opposite side, Hopper leans closer to the pane, brows furrowed and ears perked as he takes advantage of seeing this unknown species up close.

The advantage doesn't last long, however, when the mutant takes one glance at Hopper and Owens individually - as if sizing them up, frighteningly enough - and it lets out a foggy huff before ramming its now open head into the glass. The two men jump back alarmed as it continues this, each strike against the glass is with more and more force and aggression.

"It's... It's polycarbonate. It can't get through." Dr. Owens utters, shuffling back despite his words.

On cue, the four-legged Demogorgan split it's head, and a bone-chilling shriek pierced the air. The shrill cry carried through the air, bouncing off the walls and deep within the caverns, continuously feeding into itself. The echo was enough to worry everyone, that was until they saw the elevator cables begin to move once more. It was then they realized, it had not been an echo, but the voices of dozens of its siblings. And they were all scrambling up the walls, out of the pit, and to its aid.

"Mother Mary and Joseph," murmured the man at the coms.

Another screech and they all fell in line taking orders. Not a single creature hesitated, and it was only a matter of moments before the pristine, spotless glass was near shattering. Hundreds of webbing cracks painted the glass to a point the creatures became harder to see.

"You sure about that glass?" Hopper piped.

His face flushed, Owens steps back to the panel, knowing what has to be done.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The shrill alarm has reached the rest of the lab, bouncing off the cold white walls and alerting Bob and Mike.

"What the hell?" Bob asks, his protective grip on Mike feigning.

"We're too late," Mike realizes, voice grave.

"What?"

"We're too late!"

Mike escapes Bob's grip with ease, sprinting for Will's room where Joyce rises from her seat beside Will.

"What's going on?"

"We're under attack." Mike pants, face flushed.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"What's going on down there? Does anybody copy?"

The officer's voice echoes out of the speakers in the control room, though stifled by their panicked cries and the scuffle of their shoes on the floor as they run. Hopper is the last to exit, assuring everyone has made it out safely. The steel door slams shut just in the nick of time, no sooner does the splintered glass windows shatter into a thousand pieces, and the swarm floods in.

In the hall, Hopper and Owens flee with the other workers. That is until Owens finds a shortcut.

"Stairs, stairs!" He pants, shoving Hopper for the door. "Come on,"

The two men are able to safely retreat to the next floor, returning to the main floor. The same could not be said for the remainder of the team, who found themselves cornered in the elevator as the army broke free.

In Will's room, Mike spots the bottle of anesthesia and quickly snatches it up in his hands, turning to Joyce.

"We need to make Will sleep," He orders.

"What?"

"He's a spy! If he knows where we are, so does the Mind Flayer!"

Will sits up, his actions are suddenly frightened and hasty. He's furious. His once hazel eyes are almost completely black now. He quickly turns to Joyce and cries out.

"He's lying!"

"He killed those soldiers and he'll kill us, too!" Mike warned.

This only angered Will more, he shot up in his bed now fighting against Joyce's efforts to hold him down. He is screeching now, utterly infuriated and desperate as he fights against Joyce.

"He's lying! He's lying! HE'S LYING! HE'S LYING! HE'S LYING!"

The elevator has arrived on their floor, and when the designated guards arrive, the doors open revealing the several torn up bodies of the extraction team. The army of Demogorgan mutants don't hesitate on their newest targets, they stalk forward, their speed quickly climbing. In a flurry they scramble for their guns, shooting the evermoving targets as they pounce.

The gunfire echoes throughout the entire floor, including Will's room. Bob is at Will's bedside, aiding Joyce in restraining him, and he is the first to hear them.

"Those are gunshots!"

Everyone looks to the door, but their attention is quickly pulled back to Will who is still fighting.

"He's lying! HE'S LYING!"

Frightened, and short-fused, Joyce grips Will's arms.

"Okay, Will, Will, listen, listen. Do you know who I am?"

Will only looks dumbstruck, he looks at the woman before him, his body still half attempting to escape. At that moment, she knows Will is in there, but he has to fight for control.

"Do you know who I am?" She yells.

"You're..."

He falters, sending another crack through her heart as he searches his mind for her identity. And every moment seems to last an eternity, but when he finally spoke, she knew Will was losing his battle.

"You're... You're Mom."

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she looks to Bob with a determination in her eyes. Her pain is turning to anger.

"Hold him down."

Bob complies as she retrieves the needle and vial from Mike. Will comes alive, his anger - the mind flayer's anger - erupts from his frame and he is kicking and screaming with every ounce of energy he can muster.

"No! NO! LET GO! NO! NO! LET ME GO! LET GO!"

She steps forward, needle in hand, and quickly pins his arm down. She knows it is the mind flayer's doing, but she can't help but see the look of terror in Will's eyes and feels a wave of guilt. But she does not stop.

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO-!"

"I'm sorry," she cooed, fighting to keep his arm down. "I'm so sorry."

"LET ME GO!"

Mike tries to cover his ears, Will's frightful and all-too frightening shrieks pierce his skull and heart. And he can't help but think, he knew now more than ever it was the Mind Flayer, not his best friend. The only other time he had seen him this angry - this threatened - was with Y/n.

The needle breaks his skin and not a moment sooner does his cries begin to die down, and from there, it is only seconds before he is completely subdued by unconsciousness. At that same moment, Hopper and Owens burst through to the door, to find an unconscious Will, and Joyce, needle in hand. They manage to put the pieces together when without warning, a thunderous crash and inhuman howl grab everyone's attention. Everyone turns to see the pair of oak doors at the end of the hall begin to crack and splinter, piece by piece falls to the floor with each forceful strike. The creatures have reached the main floor.

Hopper pales. "We gotta go. We gotta go,"

He spins on his heel, racing for Will's bed and he swiftly sweeps the boy's small frame up with ease. Joyce, Bob, and Mike follow, not without making off with more morphine before their haste escape. The new group makes it to the outer rim before they witness a pack of these creatures take down several lab employees just up ahead. Before they can flee from where they came, the sound of rapid gunfire comes first. They are forced to pilot away and out of the hall through a narrow doorway where they find themselves in one of the labs' surveillance rooms.

Owens is the last to enter, closing the door behind him and Bob is the first to take note of the chaos unfolding on the many screens.

"Oh, my god," he gasps, drawing everyone's attention to the screens.

Everyone stops to gape at the many images of scattered bodies sprinkled throughout the labs' otherwise empty halls. Every monitor displays the contorted figures of the otherworldly creatures stalking the halls, prowling. Hunting. The lab is overrun.

The fluorescence lights above their heads begin to flicker, and just as quickly, all power has been lost, the monitors first to go. Amidst the pitch back, the group huddles close as the strident battle cry of the swarm echoes through the darkness making one simple fact abundantly clear;

Hawkins Lab has officially become the hunting ground for the army of the Upside Down.

[●●●]

On the other side of town, Neil and Susan Hargrove pull into their driveway in a rusty '71 pickup. Stepping inside, placing her shopping bags onto the dining room, Susan calls out to her daughter and step-son.

"Hey, guys, we're home." Receiving no reply, she wanders down the hall in search of any sign of life. "Guys? Hello? Max?"

She reaches Max's room first, opening the door to find the room empty, save for the abandoned taped up skateboard, and the open window. The drapes dance in the wind, reflecting the soft yellow light from the girl's bedside lamp, and it was clear to her that the room had not been touched all evening. Attempting to stifle her growing concern, she steps forward and closes the sliding window shut disregarding the chill the autumn night brought.

Inside his room, heavy rock music blaring from his stereo, Billy takes a long and deep breath, letting the smoke of his third cigarette of the day fills his lungs. He bounces on the balls of his heels to the rhythm of the beat before his mirror as he preps himself for his night out. The moment is almost perfect had it not been for the persistent knocking on his door and the sound of his stepmother.

"Billy?"

"Yeah, I'm a little busy in here, Susan," He calls.

"Open the door," Bellows his father. "Right now."

Now his night was completely ruined.

Stuffing down his fear and anger, Billy marches across his room and throws open his door. As it always seemed to go, he found his father looking down on him, seething, and a troubled and anxious Susan at his side.

"What's wrong?"

"Why don't you tell us?" His father spits.

Billy shrugs, perturbed. "Because I don't know."

"We can't find Maxine," Susan says.

"And her window's open."

Billy looks away, hiding his inward sigh. Getting on his father's bad side was never a good thing. It was rare to come out on the other side without a welt or bruise or two. And Billy was always his favorite target. That is after his mother left the picture. Whatever hell Max had just cooked up, was more shit he'd have to pay.

"Where is she?"

Biting the bullet, Billy shrugs.

"I don't know,"

"You don't know?" Neil scoffs, rage quickly rising to the surface.

All Billy can do now is throw water on the fire, but he knows he's only buying moments.

"Look, I'm sure she just, I don't know, went to the arcade or something." He says, retreating into his room. "I'm sure she's fine."

Neil follows, swiping at his mouth, a habit of anger as he follows his son to his closet.

"You were supposed to watch her," He growls.

"I know, Dad. I was," Billy sighs, throwing on his coat. "It's just you guys were three hours late, and, well, I have a date."

Pulling his mullet out from under his coat, straightening out he shrugs. "I'm sorry, okay?"

His father crosses his arms, glaring at him as he gestures to his mirror. "So that's why you've been staring at yourself in the mirror-like some faggot instead of watching your sister?"

"I have been looking after her all week, Dad." Billy snaps. "Okay? She wants to run off, then that's her problem all right? She's thirteen years old. She shouldn't need a full-time babysitter. And she's not my sister!"

Billy steps forward, slamming the off button on his stereo. The music stops just as he feels the force of his father shoving him into the wall. Neil steps closer, his grip on Billy's jacket tightening.

"What did we talk about?" He growls.

His son does not answer, and his fist swings up to meet Billy's cheek. Susan looks away fearfully, unable to witness his beatings yet neglects to step in. Neil brings his hand near Billy's throat in an act to threaten him, his sign of warning.

"What did we... talk about?"

Billy swallows the urge to fight back, no matter how demanding and he has to spit out the words his father wants to hear.

"Respect and responsibility," He repeats, hating himself for the waver in his voice that his father always seemed to bring out in him.

His father nods. "That is right,"

He shoves Billy further into the bookshelf, the boy fights a wince as his spine digs further against the wood.

"Now, apologize to Susan,"

Billy takes a deep, shaky breath. The only thing keeping him from any act - any sign - of defiance is the fiery, hostile glare he is held under.

"I'm sorry, Susan," He says.

The woman shifts uncomfortably in the doorway. Fearful of anything she says, less it inflict more pain on Billy, or herself.

"It's okay, Neil," she eases. "really, I-"

"No," he roars, jostling his son once more. "it's not okay. Nothing about his behavior is okay."

He waves a stubby finger in Billy's face, reluctantly letting him go and stepping back once he felt assured the lesson had been instilled.

"But he's going to make up for it," He turns around to look in her frightened eyes. "He's gonna call whatever whore he's seeing tonight and cancel their date. And then he's gonna go find his sister. Like the good, kind, respecting brother that he is."

He returns his attention to his son, who stands frozen, tears misting his eyes.

"Isn't that right, Billy?" He steps forward at the boy once more, voice rising when he receives no reply. "ISN'T THAT RIGHT?!"

To the best of his ability, Billy swallows the lump in his throat, his voice hoarse. "Yes, sir."

The man sighs heavily, inching closer, head turned. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you."

"Yes, sir."

Somewhat satisfied with Billy's response, his dark eyes return to Billy's, drilling holes with his threatening glare.

"Find Max." He orders.

Finally, he falls back, marching past his wife - who quickly steps out of his way - leaving a vulnerable and broken Billy behind. The door closes and only then does he let his tears fall in heavy streaks down his cheek. Expressing his emotions the only way he knows how, he chucks the nearest object - in this case, a cologne bottle - and it shatters at his feet. Another broken mess.

[●●●]

Max kicks yet another chunk of gravel in her path as she walks, trying as best as she can to keep up with Y/n's tale. How Max found herself in the middle of this confusing shitstorm, she would never know.

Steve, on the other hand, having known only half the story from the previous year, was gaining new information himself. About Eleven, Y/n, the experiments, everything. Just when he thought he knew everything about his hometown.

"You mean, he actually, like, yelled at you?" Lucas gaped. "Will?"

Y/n nods, eyes trained on the tracks below her feet. After a confusing roundup, the group found themselves walking the path the swarm had disappeared on. Having no choice but to answer their many questions, Y/n was recounting to them - without mentioning El or her trip to Chicago to the best of her ability - the events in the past 48 hours. It was proving a very difficult feat.

"'Get the hell out of my house', does not sound like Will. Like, at all."

"Exactly," Y/n insists. "I'm telling you, he's not himself."

"Clearly," scoffed Dustin.

"So I left. He didn't want me there, he made that clear enough."

"That still doesn't explain why you're dressed like that, or the fact that you came in, hands blazing, and fought off an army of Demogorgons,"

"It's complicated, alright?" She snapped defensively, rubbing a hand over her eyes. "I..."

The words died on her tongue, not even knowing what they were. She had no idea how or where to even begin. All she could do was choose her words carefully.

"I had to clear my head," she paused briefly when she saw the worried look in her brother's eyes, and sighed. "I had to get away, so...I did. Long story short-"

"Too late," Steve quipped.

"-I ran into some trouble. My clothes got trashed, so I got my hands on some spares, and I made my way home."

Satisfied with her careful recount of the events, she continued.

"And on my way, I-" she sighed once more. "Well, I figured out how to use my... powers."

The word still felt foreign on her tongue, still felt silly to say.

"Turns out, facing your shit helps."

"Wait, what does that mean exactly?" Max asked.

Y/n shrugged. "I was hurt, and angry, and confused. Apparently, that helps me control it."

An uneasy quiet falls over the group and she looks around to see her friends staring at her with intrigue. Even Steve stole a few glances at her hands, but she merely stuffed them in her oversized pockets.

"No," she scoffs, hiding a small smile. "You were all there at the junkyard, you already got a glimpse. Besides, I need to save my energy for those things."

Confusion flashes across her face and she looks between the four. "What about you guys? Why the hell are we fighting these things?"

Lucas looked past Y/n, gesturing to Dustin who had grown awfully quiet. "It's all thanks to Dustin, and his little 'pet'."

Y/n frowned. "You're sure that thing was Dart?"

"Yes," Dustin nods. "He had the exact same yellow pattern on his butt."

"He was tiny two days ago," Max pointed out.

"Well, he's molted three times already."

"Wait, m-malted?" Steve asks.

"Molted," Dustin corrects. "Shed his skin to make room for growth like hornworms."

"Well, when's he gonna molt again?" Max asks.

"It's gotta be soon. When he does, he'll be fully grown, or close to it. So will his friends."

Y/n grows more and more concerned by the moment. "Like, actual Demogorgan size?"

"Possibly."

"Yeah," Steve cuts in, scoffing. "and he's gonna eat a lot more than just cats."

Everyone halted immediately, Y/n's eyes grew wide and Lucas throws a hand out at Dustin.

"Wait, a cat?"

Dustin freezes, his eyes as wide as saucers they flick nervously in Y/n's direction and Lucas gives him a firm push.

"Dart ate a cat?"

Y/n steps forward, advancing slowly. "Dustin, what is he talking about?"

He scoffs nervously, shaking his head.

"No, what? No,"

"Dustin-"

"What are you talking about?" Steve asks, clearly confused. "He ate Mews."

"WHAT?"

Max looks feverishly between everyone, once more completely lost. "Mews? Who's Mews?"

"You let that thing eat our cat?!" Y/n shrieked, now stomping closer to her brother.

Max gapes, having gotten her answer.

"I knew it!" Exclaims Lucas, joining Y/n's side. "I knew it! You kept him!"

He jabs an angry finger in Dustin's chest

"No!" Dustin shot back, albeit a bit weakly. "No. No, I... No, I... He missed me. He wanted to come home."

"Bullshit!" Lucas spits.

Dustin sees at the pointed looks of his friends, more importantly, the hurt in his sister's eyes and it is hit with a wave of guilt.

"I- I didn't know he was a Demogorgan, okay?" He looks to Y/n, reaching out for her. "Y/n-,"

He only manages to graze her shoulder, and he notes she is hot to the touch, proof that her powers were bubbling to the surface. She flinches, shoving his hand away and he winces at her scalding hands.

"Don't touch me," she huffs, avoiding his gaze. "You knew! You knew this whole time, and you kept him! We talked about this, Dustin! As a group. We agreed he was from the upside down-"

"He was my responsibility-"

"and you kept him and it murdered out cat! And, to top it all off you sent mom on a wild goose chase-"

Steve groans, knowing the fight will only intensify.

But the siblings did not hear, the fight-turned-screaming match.

"Like you're one to talk, you went off on some idiot side quest playing dress-up while the rest of us-"

"Excuse me?!" She turned on him, her fist bunch up at her sides and several waves of heat radiated off them. "That's some sexist hunk of bullshit! While the rest of you what, Dustin-?"

She gestures wildly around her.

"Yeah, 'the rest of you' are cleaning up your mess-!"

"Guys," Max tried. "It doesn't matter. Who cares, let's just-"

"It does matter!" Lucas retorts. "It does! You put the party in jeopardy! You broke the rule of law!"

"So did you!" Dustin shot back, pointing his flashlight at Max, gesturing to her. "You told a stranger the truth!"

Max guffawed, now just as invested and just as furious. "Stranger?!"

By now, Steve contemplates whether or not to leave the herd of bickering children and continuing on the path, seeing if they'd follow or even notice. But something in the distance catches his ear.

"Real nice, Dustin. Don't try and blame anyone else-"

He creeps forward, flashlight in hand, and aimed into the darkness of the trees. All the while, the screaming match continuing uninterrupted behind him.

"You wanted to tell her too!"

"But I didn't, Lucas, okay?" Dustin shrieks. "I didn't tell her!"

Steve hears the sound once more, the sound of distant cries - the same cries he heard at the junkyard. The swarm was close.

"We both broke the rule of law, okay? So we're even we're even!"

"-No, no! We're not even. Don't even try that!"

"You're so not even Dustin!" Y/n fires back. "At least when he broke the rules, it didn't end with a dead cat!"

"Oh, you're never gonna let that go, are you?"

"Let it go? Let it go? I just found out!"

"Jesus, is that what really matters right now?" Max shouts.

The broken party was now at war with one another, no one individual member speaking at once. They all continue to shout at one another, besides Steve, who is now completely on edge, wary of their surroundings.

"Hey, guys?" Steve calls.

"You're dumb pet could have eaten us for dinner!"

"He wasn't gonna eat us!"

"Oh, so he was just coming to say hello?"

"GUYS!"

The children stop finally, looking up at Steve and his angered - and frightened expression. They have only seconds to question his worry until another screech echoes through the trees. Everyone pales, and Steve's spiked bat comes to rest over his shoulder as he marches off into the woods, the founding members of the party following. Leaving an exasperated new member behind; Max.

She is suddenly filled with dread, and she shakes her head along after them.

"No, no, no. Hey, guys, why are you headed towards the sound?" She asks, getting no answer. "Hello?"

She watches dumbstruck as they disappear over the small dirt hill, and into the trees.

"Hello?!"

She huffs, her head practically rolling off her shoulders and cursing herself for what she is about to do.

"Shit,"

She breaks out into a light jog, begrudgingly joining the rest of the group.

They follow the unending calls to the top of a hill, overlooking a small portion of Hawkins. Fog covers the lands, and the only other noise filling their ears are the croaks and ribbits of the marshy lands nearby.

"I don't see him," Dustin says, defeated.

A small click brings everyone's attention to Lucas as he takes out his binoculars, unfolding them. The lenses scan the town below until they stop on a darkened building Lucas recognizes all too well.

"It's the lab,"

His voice is grave, and it infects the others who all quickly dawn a similar, horrified expression.

"They were going back home."

+++

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[anistarrose]

Fateful Detours - Ch. 1 (Gravity Falls x Infinity Train)

Summary: Ford misses his bus to Backupsmore, and tries to catch a ride on a train instead.

Warnings: none for this chapter

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20331070/chapters/48205837

(The Middle) (The End)

I’ve been craving a Gravity Falls/Infinity Train crossover for weeks now, so several late-night bursts of inspiration later, here we are! (Expected to be a 3-chapter fic, probably slightly under 10k words. I’m notoriously bad at word count estimates, but I’m pretty confident about the chapter count.)

(Big Infinity Train spoilers, by the way! In case that wasn't obvious.)

***

Ford’s room looked emptier than he could ever remember it being, and he was eager to leave it as soon as he could.

Carefully, he folded one last dress shirt and laid it down in his suitcase, which took some effort to zip closed. Most of his books, and a few bare-bones pieces of furniture, had already been taken to his Backupsmore dorm room, but his mother had insisted that he wait until the day before freshman orientation to move out of the house in Glass Shard Beach. And Ford had obliged, reluctantly.

He took a quick look under the bunk bed to make sure he wasn’t missing anything, but found nothing but dust bunnies. The bunk bed was a big part of why he was in such a rush to leave — sleeping in it every night still stung, a reminder of all the upheavals and betrayals and dashed hopes from last spring that had redirected his whole life and ruined his future.

And there was plenty of time to dwell on all that each night, because Ford still wasn’t used to falling asleep without someone else in the room.

He tried to slip out the front door without anyone noticing, but Caryn caught him.

“Hold it right there, Stanford!” she called. “You’re not seriously about to leave for college without giving your dear old Ma a hug first, are you?”

“Mom, I’m going to miss the bus at this rate,” Ford grumbled, but he gave her a quick hug as she kissed his forehead.

Filbrick watched from the stairs, looking neither proud nor disappointed.

“Did you pack your suit and tie?” he asked.

“Yes, Dad. They’re already in the dorm room.”

“Good. Now, go impress some smart people.”

“In Backupsmore, I’m not sure how many other smart people there’ll be to impress,” Ford muttered under his breath. Then, raising his voice, he added: “Well… goodbye, I guess. I’ll call you when I get there, Mom.”

The bus stop was about halfway across town, and if the last bus of the day was actually running on time for once, Ford suspected he’d be cutting it close, so he walked down the street at a brisk pace.

I’ve got everything I need, right? No more textbooks to bring along, no one else to say goodbye to…

He paused as he passed the sidewalk offshoot that led to the beach. His suitcase kept rolling, its extendable handle jabbing into his back.

Had he left anything on the Stan O’ War? He hadn’t been there since… well, since the argument…

He rubbed his back, took a look at his watch and did some quick mental math, and started to head for the beach.

Just a quick detour. The bus will probably be late anyways.

***

The boat wasn’t quite as much of a wreck as he’d feared, but enough of a wreck that he still couldn’t help but feel guilty.

Splotches of seagull poop dotted the deck, and something reeked like some small animal had gotten stuck under the planks and died. Pools of off-color water from last week’s rainstorms welled up in corners, and worst of all, the flag had evidently been stolen.

Ford shooed away a few gulls as he boarded the boat and examined the contents of the cabin: a cheap compass, a slightly water-damaged vexillology book, and an unopened bag of toffee peanuts.

“What am I doing?” He shook his head. “Why did I think I’d find anything useful here?!”

As he stormed off the boat, he could’ve sworn that the creaking of the planks beneath his feet sounded… disappointed. And lonely.

“No!” he muttered to himself, surely confusing anyone who might’ve been watching. “I’m not going to get guilted into missing my bus by an inanimate object! It is perfectly normal for me to feel nostalgic, against my better judgement, for a project I poured hours of work into, but it is also perfectly logical to leave it behind now. This was an unrealistic dream, and now I’m finally moving on to a more realistic one!”

He checked his watch, and sped up his pace. Assuming the last bus to Backupsmore was running late again, he should’ve still been able to make it…

He rounded the corner just in time to see the bus pulling away — slightly behind schedule, but not nearly as much as usual. Not quite as much as Ford had needed.

“Wait!” he yelled, breaking into a sprint and waving frantically in an attempt to catch the driver’s attention, but the wheels of his suitcase hit a bump in the side walk and he lost his grip on the handle. By the time he’d picked it up again, the bus was long gone.

“Well, fuck my whole life, I guess!” Ford muttered. He had half a mind to just lie down on the sidewalk and stay there until someone decided he was being too much of a nuisance and dragged him away. Why had he thought checking on the boat would be a worthwhile use of his time? Why had he ever thought the boat would be worth anything?

He pulled out his Backupsmore brochure and double-checked the orientation schedule — it didn’t start until ten the next morning. That was more than enough time to take a series of taxis, or hitchhike, or something — because spending another night in his parents’ house just wasn’t an option. Not with Caryn doting on her one remaining son with an enthusiasm meant for two, not with Filbrick constantly grilling Ford on how he planned to first make a good impression and later make a fortune, and certainly not with that empty, empty room and that goddamn bunk bed.

So Ford took a moment to stretch his already-sore arms, and then set off in the general direction of the road to Backupsmore.

***

Hitchhiking wasn’t as easy as Ford had hoped it would be, and the storm brewing overhead didn’t seem to do much to make drivers feel more sympathetic towards his plight.

“At least it’s not actually raining yet,” Ford said to himself, and was immediately met with a droplet of water striking his glasses. “Damn it.”

As he dried them off with his shirt, he heard a ear-grating ringing sound coming from ahead, and looked up to see the arms of the railroad gate closing. “Damn it!”

For a second, he seriously considered making a mad dash for it, trying to duck under the gate and get across the tracks before the train could block them — but that moment of hesitation was all the train needed to speed into view.

And then, as if to to add insult to injury, it ground to a halt, blocking the road and stretching as far as the eye could see in either direction.

“Oh, come on!” Ford groaned as a few more raindrops struck his glasses. “Has the whole universe collectively decided not to cut me a single break today?!”

He took a deep breath. “Okay, calm down. I can probably sneak between the cars and get across…”

He blinked a few times as he approached the tracks, vision blurred by his wet glasses. Strangely, it looked less like the freight trains Ford was used to and more like a passenger train, with windows illuminated by a neon green light that stood out in the stormy August afternoon.

He took a step towards the stairs near the back of a car, and to his surprise, the destination sign lit up to read Backupsmore University.

Which was weird, because this railroad crossing in the middle of nowhere didn’t seem like a train station, but Ford wasn’t about to let his good fortune go to waste. Lifting up his suitcase, he cautiously placed a foot on the first step…

A vortex of shimmering green and gold lit up the staircase, and before Ford could even react, everything went white.

***

Something poked Ford in the face, and he groaned, rolling to the side. “Five more minutes…”

He was met with a hissing noise that absolutely did not belong in his bedroom, and he instinctively swatted at the source of the sound. He opened his eyes just in time to see a bright orange praying mantis the size of his hand go flying.

“Ugh! What kind of dorm room is —”

His voice cut off as his eyes adjusted, and he took in his surroundings. Trees as tall as skyscrapers with leaves colored like bursts of flames surrounded him, and the sky overhead was a deep emerald green.

“Oh,” Ford muttered. “So I’m concussed and hallucinating. Wonderful.”

He heard the hissing sound again, and looked down to see the mantis approaching his foot, almost perfectly camouflaged atop the blanket of orange and crimson leaves that covered the forest floor. The only feature that stood out were its large blue-gray eyes, which showed more emotion than Ford had ever seen in an insect, looking almost… apologetic?

It chirped, and darted off between the trees, doubling back a moment later when it realized Ford wasn’t following it. It waved a scythe-like arm in the air, as if beckoning him.

“Hallucinating, and anthropomorphizing the emotions of a non-sapient insect,” Ford muttered to himself. “Unless I got… transported to another dimension, but how could that possibly —”

He looked down at his hands, expecting to see a clear indicator that he was dreaming like an incorrect number of fingers, but all six — and no more — were present on each hand. But that wasn’t all.

On his right palm was a number, green and glowing and unchanging:

166

“This — this is just some kind of cruel joke! Would I hallucinate this?” He waved his hand in the air, wiped it on his shirt, spat on it and rubbed it with his thumb — but nothing even caused the glow to fade, much less wash off. “What the hell?”

The mantis hissed again, then began to scuttle off, and Ford got the distinct impression that it was getting impatient, and wouldn’t wait around for him another time. So he followed it, weaving between trees and listening to leaves crunch beneath his feet as he stepped over twisted roots and gurgling streams.

It was a genuinely beautiful scene, he had to admit. Under different circumstances, he might’ve stopped to do a sketch — though he struggled to imagine a scenario in which he’d be so unfazed by alien worlds that he’d feel comfortable just sitting down and taking a moment to draw.

As he walked, he checked the contents of his backpack — it contained everything he’d packed in it earlier that afternoon, as far as he could remember — but realized his suitcase was nowhere in sight. Which wasn’t a unfixable, since there hadn’t been anything in it that he couldn’t replace, but sure wasn’t great news either. He didn’t have the money to buy books whenever he felt like it, especially with classes starting in the fall. (Assuming he even had a chance to get out of whatever this place was and back to Backupsmore, that was.)

The mantis came to a halt, and Ford, lost in thought, only barely avoided stepping on it. It faced the largest tree Ford had seen yet, easily fifteen feet in diameter — but strangest of all was the door carved into the trunk, one lone sign of human involvement in what otherwise appeared to be an untouched wilderness.

The mantis turned back to Ford, chirped twice, and then sprung into a nearby bush, disappearing from sight. Not having any better plans, Ford shrugged and twisted the golden handle of the door. It swung open with a metallic creaking noise, but little resistance, to reveal…

Finally, the memory of boarding the train at the railroad crossing returned to Ford as he found himself staring at the bridge between two colossal train cars. As he stepped through the door, a gust of dry air instantly hit him, and he realized the train was speeding through a barren wasteland, devoid of any signs of civilization as far as he could see.

And he was pretty sure of two things: first, that this didn’t resemble any environment in the northeastern United States, and second, that he hadn’t been unconscious long enough for the train to leave that region.

“This is another dimension? Or maybe a series of pocket dimensions? Unless…” He ducked back inside the forest car, and on a hunch, attempted to walk past the door’s tree. Sure enough, his face smacked into a wall, and the hyper-realistic image of the continuing forest path flickered for a moment.

“Not so much pocket dimensions as sophisticated simulations, then,” Ford concluded, readjusting his glasses and rubbing his sore nose. He was probably going to wind up with a bruise. “Assuming the other cars work under the same rules…”

He hurried across the bridge between cars, grimacing as he looked down. Trying to jump down to the wasteland would be a reckless decision even by his standards, given the massive height drop as well as the lack of shelter or resources as far as the eye could see. Besides, it was the train that held so many unanswered mysteries and potentially infinite environments to explore…

Ready to experience the discovery of a lifetime, Ford opened the next door, and found himself facing a classroom of screaming beavers.

There were about two dozen of them, and they made an unbearable racket as they threw themselves across the room, hurling school supplies at each other and gnawing on the wooden legs of their own desks and chairs. None of the students stood any taller than Ford’s knees, but their sheer numbers made it impossible for the teacher to control them. He was the lone anthropomorphic animal out of the bunch, appearing to be a perfectly normal human man except for his beaver head and tail, and he kept trying to smack the unruly students on their heads with a yardstick — only for one of them to snatch it out of his hands, and gnaw it in half in a matter of seconds.

The teacher stared at Ford with wide, pleading beaver eyes. Ford stared back.

“Why the fuck,” he asked, “did you give them desks made of wood?!”

A single tear ran down the beaver teacher’s cheek.

“What else were you expecting to happen?!” Ford shouted.

The teacher crumpled to the floor, curling into the fetal position as he began to softly weep. Ford started to cautiously make his way through the classroom, carefully stepping over beavers while holding his sleeve over his face to avoid inhaling any sawdust.

He nearly lost his balance and toppled to the ground when one beaver sprang past him, grabbing ahold of the handle at the bottom of the pull-down map hanging in the front of the classroom. The map immediately rolled back up, yanking the beaver to the top of the now-exposed blackboard. Grinning as evilly as a beaver could grin, it popped in a pair of earplugs, and then raked its claws across the blackboard’s surface.

Ford clapped his hands over his ears, concerns about sawdust abandoned, and sprinted for the exit. The other beavers charged after him, frothing at the mouth and wailing in agony from the sound, but he slammed the door behind him, and breathed a sigh of relief that their tiny little beaver hands weren’t quite dextrous enough to maneuver the door handle.

“On to the next… car… then,” he panted as he crossed the next bridge. “Let’s see how much more of this… my eardrums can take…”

***

One pizzeria car, one dance battle car (which Ford was initially skeptical about, but ended up absolutely rocking), and one literal train murder mystery car later, Ford found himself exploring an underground cavern.

“Please refrain from touching the stalactites and stalagmites,” the bat tour guide cheerily informed him, “as the oils from your greasy human skin can damage them. But you’ll see that we’re approaching a small lake, and you will need to use the natural rock formations as stepping stones at that point, unless you want to go for a swim — which I wouldn’t recommend, since the water is only about fifty-five degrees Fahrenheit.”

“Do you get a lot of visitors here?” Ford asked it. “And do any of them prefer actually reasonable temperature systems, like Celsius?”

“Maybe one visitor a week, if I’m lucky,” the bat replied. “The train has plenty of passengers, but also a lot of other attractions besides this humble cave, so they’re spread fairly thin.”

Ford gestured to the number on his hand. “Do all the passengers have numbers like these?”

“Sure do. Not always the same number, though.”

“Do you know what it means?”

“Not a clue. I can tell you all about the geology of this place, though! Lots of famous caves are made of limestone, but this one is actually made of dolomite!”

Crossing the lake wasn’t too difficult, though Ford’s shoes were splashed a few times as he stepped between columns of stone that stood about even with the water level and resembled particularly sturdy lily pads. Even with ice-cold feet, he found that he couldn’t help but smile.

Aside from the beaver car, this train really hadn’t been so bad. He’d much rather spend years learning from supernaturally smart animals than from underpaid professors at Backupsmore — not to mention the breathtaking environments he kept finding himself in, like the crimson forest and this massive cave system. The only thing keeping him from wanting to stay forever was the lack of companionship, with all the train’s inhabitants staying behind in their own cars…

“The door is right up ahead,” the bat chirped in his ear. “Can’t miss it. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay on the train!”

“Do you know how I get off the train?” Ford asked.

“Well, when you reach your destination, of course! Just don’t ask me what yours is, because I don’t know either.”

“Okay. Thanks for the cave facts, this was fun.”

“Anytime!”

As Ford crossed over to the next car, he happened to glance at his right palm:

163

“Wait, it was 166 before! When did it change?”

He rushed back to the cave car, and poked his head back inside. “Hey! Uh, Batty? I didn’t catch your name — but anyways, did you see when my number changed? It dropped three whole points!”

The bat fluttered back towards him. “Hmm. It was definitely 166 back on the other side of the lake. I’m not sure beyond that.”

“Well, I guess that’s better than nothing. Thanks again.”

Ford sighed, as he began walking towards the next car for the second time. “Why wasn’t I paying more attention? That could’ve been a vital clue, but now I only have a vague time interval to go off of…”

He kept rambling to himself as he opened the next door and entered, hardly even paying attention to the contents of the new car. “Was it a vocal trigger? A physical trigger? Either of those I could’ve tested and tried to replicate, if only I was actually recording what I was doing when —”

“No fucking way,” he heard a familiar voice mutter.

Halfway across the car, leaning up against a jagged cliff face, was Stanley.

***

(Endnotes:

Thanks for reading, feedback/reblogs are appreciated as always! The cave car Ford visits is highly inspired by Onondaga Cave in Missouri - look up that cave's "Lily Pad Room," and you'll get a good idea of how Ford crossed that lake.

I have a pretty detailed outline for the remaining chapters, so ideally there won't be any long gaps between updates. It's just a matter of how often I have the time available to transform outline into prose.)

[renegade-diamonds]

I don't know if you're still taking Prompts, but can we have more sibling Pink and Blue Dragon shifters, with vampire white and yellow? Um maybe with some blue and pink in dragon form cuddling their tiny vampire mates?

Wow you guys have a lot of love for this series, I’m getting a ton of request for it. :D 

TW: Violence and Blood, so proceed carefully if that bothers you and you read it. 

Sorry for any typos, it’s late and I hate proof-reading. 

Yellow had always adored camping, especially in the days of the later 18th century. Being able to live freely without worry of humans discovering their secret was exhilarating.

Which is why Yellow found herself sprinting at inhuman speeds through the remote forest, nestled high in the mountains- away from prying human eyes.

White laughed as she vaulted herself high into the redwoods, jumping from tree to tree with all the grace of a acrobat.

Yellow took a breath before launching towards her best friend.

They collided in a series of screeches and laughs, crashing into a tree midair and falling to the ground.

They fake wrestled for a moment or two, before sharing a look and returning to the run.

The sunlight trickled down through the cracks of the branches above them, warming their cold skin.

Yellow was reminded of how warm Blue felt when pressed against her, the fire that burned within her ensuring she never went cold.

White had once told her Pink’s warmth was much the same, reminding her of when they were still human and had to huddle by their tiny makeshift fires- pressed together to hold as much heat to them as they could.

White shouted and pointed ahead, towards a break in the treeline in front of them.

Within seconds, they broke out of the forest and ran into a good-sized clearing.

It was a beautiful place, with a crystal clear lake spot in the middle of the opening. Small groves of tall trees dotted the edges of the lake, and Yellow followed as White approached the water line.

They chose a opening between two groups of trees to make camp, and White set down the large bag on her back before surveying the area.

A slight smell lingered in the air, something that had Yellow slightly on edge.

But she pushed the thought to the back of her head, it was probably just nerves.

After all, today was the day Blue and Pink had agreed to finally let them see their dragon forms.

Ever since that lunch four months ago, the two couples had been practically sewn at the hip.

Yellow was positive Blue was the one for her, and from the way White talked of Pink- she was sure her best friend was in the same boat.

The vampire stretched, letting out a content sigh at the crack of her neck and back, gave one more look around the clearing, before helping her friend pitch the tents and clear out the area that would serve as their camp for the next few days.

Pink and Blue would fly out to meet them soon, Yellow thought. The two shifters just had to finish up work for the day and make sure someone would be available to watch their property while they were gone.

White hummed to herself as they finished setting up the tents, and Yellow playfully joined along once she recognized the beat.

The two of them eventually broke out in song, laughing like idiots once their singing came to an end, before the two of them collapsed onto the large blanket they had brought and laid back down.

For a few minutes they were quiet, basking in the sun like a couple of cats, and Yellow was fairly aware that they might have fallen asleep in a short while.

But then the uneasy feeling returned to the clearing, and Yellow swore as a shiver ran down her spine.

She sat up quickly looking around the area for the source of the unpleasant feeling.

White caught her attention when the pale-haired vampire suddenly jumped to her feet, eyes locked behind her as panic crossed her face.

With as much ease as throwing a ball, she lifted Yellow up and tossed her to the side as something flew past her, barely missing her head.

It crashed into White’s chest with an insane amount of force, and her best friend let out an agonizing scream as she was thrown back nearly thirty feet, only stopping when her body crashed into a tree.

Yellow ran to her with inhuman speed, gasping with shock when she realized White was stuck against the tree.

A large metallic spike passing through the right side of her chest, near her shoulder.

Yellow felt a pang of relief when she realized it had missed her heart.

White coughed and blood splattered across her chin. It was still fresh from when they picked it up from their supplier earlier in the day, and Yellow felt pure hatred when she heard the whistling sound of another spike being launched at them.

She spun around and smacked it away with the back of her hand, snarling like a wild animal when more flew in her direction, and she repeated her previous actions- blocking each and every one of them.

Finally the barrage stopped, and she focused stubbornly at the treeline, watching with narrowed eyes as a group of humans walked calmly out of the forest stopping a few dozen meters away from her position.

White’s voice was deathly quiet as she murmured, “Hunters.”

Yellow raised her head in acknowledgement. For centuries, this tiny group of humans had dedicated their lives to hunting down any form of supernatural creatures. The two vampires had plenty run ins with them in the past, but that had been over a hundred years ago.

She had no idea they were still out there.

Yellow counted twelve of them dressed in black combat suits and ski masks, all armed to the teeth with various instruments capable of putting a vampire through a slow painful death.

But she was damned if she’d let that happen.

The apparent leader stepped forward, “I thought I’d be able to get both of you with that one spike.” Her voice was loud and obnoxious, with a cruel undertone, “But I’d happily kill you both slowly as well. You vampires are an abomination that needs to be cleansed of this earth.” Her eyes narrowed hatefully through the only mask opening, “I’ll send you both back to hell.”

Yellow distantly heard the sound of wings, from her guess she’d say they were two minutes away.

She had to stall for time.

White let out a pained groan when her legs gave out underneath her. Yellow would pull the spike out if she thought she could do it fast, but since she was surrounded- she’d have to hold her ground until Blue and Pink arrived.

And make sure not one of the damned hunters got anywhere near White.

“The only ones burning in hell today will be you,” Yellow sneered and took a defensive stance.

The leader inclined their head, “I’m going to enjoy this.”

Several of the hunters, probably newbies, made the mistake of charging her.

And Yellow viciously took advantage of their stupidity. Within seconds, they were lying on the ground dead- two were missing a head, while the others their legs.

She didn’t have time for clean deaths, and their were still several hunters left.

Her opponents pulled large bazookas off their backs, and Yellow mentally cursed when she saw they were modified to hold the spikes they’d shot at them earlier.

The first three were easy to block, but it was only when White yelled out in alarm that Yellow realized one had sneaked around behind her.

The spike impaled her through her lower ribs, thankfully missing her heart.

But the damage was severe, and her legs gave out as pain racked through her body.

She fell to her knees in front of White, still determined to prevent them from hurting her.

The sound of large wings were ringing in her ears now, the hunters too preoccupied with surrounding them to notice. Yellow couldn’t see them in the sky, so she guessed they were flying low to the tree-tops, no doubt they could hear the commotion.

With a grunt she pulled the spike out of her, pain blurring her vision, and when she came to her senses the leader was standing directly in front of them.

She could practically hear the smirk in her voice, “Any last words?”

Two large flying dragons suddenly appeared in Yellow’s range of vision, moving fast but relatively silently. They were locked onto their position.

Yellow smirked up at their assailant, and White managed a pained laugh when she saw their shifters approaching, “I would look behind you.”

Simultaneously, two massive roars broke through the clearing, and the last thing Yellow could remember was the terrified screams of the hunters as two magnificent dragons descended upon them.

She collapsed against the ground, the pain overriding her mind- leaving everything to go black as her body forced her to rest.

~~

The first thing she felt was the familiar sensation of White’s arms wrapped around her, much as she’d do back when they were trapped in that horrible orphanage.

The second thing she recognized, was the feeling of warmth washing over her, as if she was sitting in front of a roaring fireplace while reading her favorite book.

Then she remembered the clearing, the hunters, and being attacked.

With a sharp shriek Yellow shot up, pain flaring in lower ribs when she aggravated the newly healed wound.

White ran her hands through her hair, calming Yellow as only her best friend could.

And suddenly she realized that she was safe.

Two large reptilian forms were curled around them tightly, blankets and pillows scattered around them for comfort. When the dragons realized Yellow was up, they lifted their heads and looked at her.

Pink’s eyes greeted her own, complementing the dragons’ magenta color.

But what really captivated her was the icy white-blue eyes she turned to next, which were very striking when compared to the deep blue of her shifter’s scales.

A shudder traveled the length of their bodies, and both Yellow and White watched with wide-transfixed eyes as they shifted down into human forms.

They were both wearing simple tank tops and shorts, and together the sisters fussed over the two vampires.

“Are you alright?” Blue pulled Yellow to her, “Does anything hurt? We called your blood supplier over if you need any. They dropped off a few bags for you, said it would help you heal.”

“I’m alright,” Yellow gazed into Blue’s eyes, her heart fluttering sadly when she saw tears filling them. “There’s no need to cry.”

“They could have killed you two. We could hardly get White apart from that tree, the spike pinned her there and narrowly missed her heart. Then you were just laying there- not moving at all.” Blue’s voice was low with sorrow, “I thought I lost you.”

“It’d take more than that to kill me. My body just needed to heal,” Yellow explained. “I guess my mind unconsciously thought it was safe enough to knock out with you two there to protect us.”

“Always,” Pink said from next to them. She had pulled White into her lap, nuzzling her neck. “We’d never let anyone hurt you two. Those hunters, we wiped them off the face of this earth. No one threatens my mate, or my sister’s.”

White playfully cocked an eyebrow at her girlfriend, “Mate?”

“Well duh, that ass is mine.”

Blue smacked her sister upside the head, “Language Pink!”

“Sorry sis.”

Yellow looked around, “Is this your living room?”

“Yeah,” Blue sighed. “We had to move the furniture to make room for our shifted forms.We were too worked up to shift down with you two still unconscious.”

“That explains why it looks different,” Yellow leaned back into the pillows, Blue dutifully curling around her. “I still need to heal. I’m probably gonna pass out again.”

White yawned and rubbed at her healing shoulder, which was wrapped with bandages. Pink swatted at her hand, not allowing her to irritate the wound, “Me too. I woke up about 10 minutes before you. We’ve only been sleeping a few hours according to Blue.”

“Three hours, 34 minutes.” Said girl confirmed.

“Yeah,” Yellow joined in on the yawning. “Definitely gonna sleep some more.”

“Go right ahead,” Blue kissed her temple.

Pink gently helped White lay down, adjusting the pillows and blankets for her, before gently kissing her and protectively laying down next to her, “We’ll be right here.”

“You’re safe,” Blue murmured, and Yellow pressed her lips against hers in response. 

[strivingscribe]

Salt of the Earth ~ 002

Salt of the Earth by MsMoon

Chapter 2 ~ Inquiring Minds

Chapters: 2/?

Chapter Navigation: 1, 2,

Fandom: Young Justice

Rating: ExplicitWarnings: Angst, Feeling? Violence?

Relationships: Maybe I was a little hasty in my last post...but no. She’s still 14, and this is Gen.

Summary: After responding to an incident, members of the team are saved by an unknown metahuman. But no protocols are in place to deal with the series of unfortunate events that assail Anitia Moore. What exactly should the team do when a someone with powers needs training but doesn’t want to be a member of the team?

The Warehouse that Nightwing had jokingly hoped would become more of a warehome didn't pan out, but it did serve a purpose. It was now the perfect front for Zeta tube convergence, and the team often met there before returning to their new HQ. With the League fully operational, space had been made for them. Technically, they were still in Mount Justice, albeit several levels underground. The perfect place for a new secret bass was beneath the bones of the old one. 

Conner stood at a comfortable distance behind Robin, partially amazed at the consistent clacking blips and bloops the boy's fingers made as they pianoed their way across the screen.

Tim was even more of a technology buff than Dick had been…. and that's saying something.

Most of the others had filed out after the initial report had been filed... Kaldur had left Tim to his own investigative processes.

Robin had leapt immediately into scanning the crystal and data mining for additional images to pull from. Conner stayed behind because he was invested. La'gaan as well, though he was pacing, arms crossed, staring at his own feet. Dick, Jaime, and Bart had joined them, all three of them staring intently at the computer screen as Tim typed.

Thanks to traffic cams on the bridge, Tim had managed to get several awkward camera angles of the fight… not that it helped to identify the freak with the masks and the staff. He was well and truly covered. That meant they had to look at details for him.

"What's that on his staff?" Jaime asked, pointing to a single slip of orange on the edge of his staff.

Tim's eyes flick to the screen before even more furious typing. The shot is mostly static, he's walking. Nothing more. The computer freezes the image and zooms in, but it blurs.

"Impossible to say at this resolution." Robin muttered. "Something inlaid into the wood, maybe." A minute shake of his head accompanied that inquiry before he moved on entirely. The query had been cataloged, but there was too much to consider to waste time on it.

"What have you gotten so far?" Nightwing asked.

"Computer puts him at 6ft 4." Robin reported. "Around… 250 pounds, give or take." He sighed heavily. "Due to multiple masks, we can't even hope for a facial recognition. And every bit of his skin is covered… Superboy says his eyes were green."

"So, no distinguishable marks, but he has green eyes."

"Exactly."

"The woman?"

"Anyone else think she looks like Milla Jovovich?" Jaime asked, tilting his head to the side. "I mean, she's tan, but… in the face and all.."

"I see it." Bart said, his head also tilted to the side. "The white hair's a bit much."

"Computer has her around 130 pounds, and she's…" he squinted, looking a little more closely at the readout. "... 5 foot 9?... a little under."

"Damn. That's tall." Impulse rattled. "And not just because I'm short. Don't say it's cause I'm short. That's tall."

"It's above average." Superboy said with a shrug. "It's really light for so tall…"

Robin muttered under his breath, frustrated by the lack of data. "We have a clear shot of her face, but no matching facial recognition."

Conner stares at the shot Robin's referring to, the one of her suspended in mid air... Her face is open, unobscured, and utterly surprised. He remembers that face, and how quickly it shifted to fear... fear that she was hurting him.

"Nothing in the DMV database?" Nightwing asked, his voice reflecting shock.

"Nothing."

Nightwing turned to Superboy. "You were closest to her. Did she sound international?"

Superboy shook his head. "No. She definitely sounded American."

"Hey, look at this." Robin hunkered down, enlarging a camera on top of the bridge.

The angle was awkward due to a previous strike. It was tilted downward, but the angle suddenly became perfect when the masked freak jumped up there… the bottom of his staff was directly in front of the camera. Robin froze the image and flipped it to reveal bright orange letters that spelled out the word…..

"Virgin?" La'gaan asked.

"Virgil." Nightwing corrected.

"Did that asshole steal that staff from some guy named Virgil?" Jaime asked.

Robin shrugged, typing 'Virgil' above the guy's figure.

"Dude… really?" Bart asked.

"We've already got a Virgil…" Jaime reminds.

"It's the only name we have to go with at this point." Robin said with a shrug. His attention snapped to a popup screen to his right as the computer flashed the words 'Possible Match' and '98%'. "Fingerprints!"

"What now?" Conner asked.

"The rock? The clear Kryptonite? It had three fingerprints on it!" he said as he tapped the link under the word 'match'. "The computer's found a viable…"

They all stared as the image of a tiny, mousy-haired girl came up in sharp contrast next to the woman it had matched her to.

"No way…" La'gaan murmured, his eyes drifting between the two, his arms hanging listlessly at his sides.

"She's like… four feet tall!" Bart yelped, trying hard not to laugh (and failing).

"Who is she?" Nightwing asked.

"Anita Lilian Moore." Robin recited the words in a more robotic monotone than Red Tornado.

Nightwing stared at the images. They all stared at them. "Uh… go back to the security footage and… see if you can find this girl anywhere on, near, or around the bridge around the time of the incident."

Robin's fingers sprung to life, entering in new search parameters into the recognition software.

"What are you thinking?" Conner asked.

Dick shrugged, reaching for his cell phone. "We know that the other one could turn invisible…" he sighed as Superboy's eyes narrowed. Even he could see that Dick felt like he was reaching.

"Transformation, maybe?" Jaime ventures.

"Maybe…" Nightwing scoffed. "Stranger things have happened."

"Recognized, Batman 02." The imminent arrival of the Dark Knight was immediately followed by, "What do you have so far?"

"Fingerprints from the woman, but… they belong to this girl." Nightwing reported.

"We have confirmation." Robin announced. He pointed to an area where pedestrians could walk on the bridge. While her frame was slight, she was certainly there. Taking photos of the view over the water before the attack.

Kaldur joined them. "That is always good to hear." Dick repeated Robin's findings to Kaldur, while Batman glared at the images on the screen.

The puzzle pieces were clearer, but...but he still wasn't entirely sure how they all fit together. They needed more intel.

[nezzfiction]

Team WISE Ch. 2 - Ember

Series Synopsis: Ten years have passed since Team RWBY disbanded. Remnant is in the midst of its Second Great War. And while the Kingdoms wage battle and destruction against one other, a darker, more ancient threat grows in its shadow. Only a select few are willing to set aside past differences to see the greater danger Remnant faces. Only those who possess the wisdom to seek out the truth in the dark—those who are truly wise. To that end, Weiss Schnee assembles her private group of covert operatives.

This is the story of Team WISE.

Links to read the series: Ao3 or FF.net

Or hit the jump below:

.

Ember

.

They are the remains of a dying fire.

Or the lights of a new flame.

Both, hand in hand, one and the same.

Like new and old feathers of a phoenix.

.

.

The air whistled as a curved blade almost took her head off. Fortunately, she read it ahead of time, and ducked just below.

“Tsk!” Yang gave an annoyed click of her teeth.

Her opponent didn’t stop his motion. Instead, they rode the momentum, and repeated the strike lower. It wasn’t as much as a weapon, as it was a scorpion tail that almost cut a poisonous gash through Yang’s abdomen.

“Damn it!”

The boxer was forced to break her stance, and back away.

“Come on~” Tyrian Callows taunted. “Where did all the usual bravado go? Don’t tell me your afraid♪?”

“That’s rich, coming from the guy who’s been ducking me for weeks.”

In the gladiatorial arena, the audience around them cheered with depraved cries. Each and every one of them, wearing black and white striped clothes. A cheap fence was all that separated the ring from its spectators, who watched from multiple levels. A prison within a prison, where people were little more than caged animals tearing each other apart.

Yang was on the verge of bum rushing forward, when cooler voices counseled the move.

Come on, don’t rush it.

She watched Tyrian’s scorpion tail whip back and forth in readiness.

He wants you to make the first move. You’ve seen how he fights.

He likes to talk smack, but he’s crap at taking it.

Yang hocked a spit to the side, and braced her fists under her chin.

Easy does it. Bait him in, like the sap he is.

It felt like she exercised more patience in the last few months than she had in her entire lifetime.

The time’ll come. You already learned this. Just ball up the hate for now.

Yang remembered that fateful day, her harsh reminder that curbed her attitude.

Don’t want to lose another arm. Don’t play his game. Play yours.

Her feet began to shuffle back and forth. Slow at first, then faster in succession. She backed around the perimeter of the ring, as if provoking her opponent with her nimbleness. A daredevil’s smile trailing her façade.

“You know, for a joint that brags about keeping Mistral’s hardest criminals, you guys are actually a bunch of softies!” Yang smirked. “And you’re supposed to be the sharpest shiv in this clink? What a joke.”

“You won’t be smiling for long,” Tyrian hissed. “When I’m done with you, I’ll rip out your tongue, so you’ll never breathe another word again! And then, I’ll—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Something about intestines, and whatever other cannibal fetish fantasy. Heard worse from people who actually matter? Let’s dance, scrub!”

Tyrian’s anger reached its boiling point, as he pounced with an inhuman-like agileness. At the same time, Yang banked her body down into a forward dash.

Just as Tyrian’s tail stabbed from above like a curved dagger, the boxer swerved right. The stinger cut through a few locks of her hair, arousing her rage and her Semblance.

Don’t lose yourself, Yang reminded.

Channel it, control it, own it.

Don’t let it own you.

Her hair set ablaze and her irises dyed a bloody red, but she maintained her temper. Like sinking her emotions below the ocean’s surface, she focused her attention elsewhere.

Fake the entry.

Yang feigned a resumed dash into Tyrian’s guard.

It’s what he wants. You know what’s going to happen next.

Tyrian’s lips pulled into a wide grin. His tail flicked up instantly, like he expected the miss. A second, more deadly strike, came down. Its point drove right atop Yang’s skull.

Too easy.

The attack was deeper than the first. It struck the ground, as Yang dodged left. She finally let her rage go. Her boot stomped the tail at an angle, preventing Tyrian from pulling it back.

Yang watched the shock on her opponent’s face with grim satisfaction. Her elbow drew a wide arc, right before letting loose a sweeping downward punch.

“GRRAAAAAHHHHH!!!” Tyrian shrieked, as his tail was blown off in the middle. “YOU BITCH!”

While her opponent cursed, Yang didn’t pause for a second. She went immediately into Tyrian’s body. Short pummeled bursts crunched out from the boxer, repeatedly jamming her fists into the man’s ribs.

Should be careful, Yang reminded herself with reluctance.

As much as I’d love to induce organ failure…

…Still need him alive.

The moment Yang stopped her assault, Tyrian bent forward from the pain of having his ribs pound to dust. Right then, the knuckles of Yang’s gauntlet cracked the side of his head. His ear went completely deaf on that side.

“Man, that was really exciting. You had me worried there for a bit,” Yang breathed a long yawn down at him. And then, grasped the back of his ponytail.

Seeing the match finished, she turned her gaze to the crowd. Her fellow inmates were cheering uproariously. Unintelligible chanting and slurs cascaded the rounded walls. When they coalesced, she heard the singular word like the voice of continuous thunder.

“Death.”

“Death.”

“Death.”

“Death.”

As per the fighting arena’s tradition, the audience liked to chant the desired fate of the defeated. And it was rare, if ever, they chose mercy.

Yang glared condescendingly at Tyrian still keeled over on the ground.

“You hear them, right? With your other ear, I mean.”

“…Do it!”

“I could,” she paused. “Or maybe, you can give me something to convince me otherwise.”

“…? He..hehe…hehehehahaha! So that’s what you’re after!”

“Not so loud, dumbass, or I might just change my mind.”

“I wondered why you were down here.”

“Adam Taurus, Qrow Branwen, Raven Branwen. I want intel.”

“Hahaha! Sure! I’ll tell you whatever you want!”

In the face of Tyrian’s demented smile, Yang could only snarl in disgust.

“Great.”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

Hovering about one kilometer above Mistral’s underground max security prison, was a stealth flight airship. The swordfish-like vessel tread the night sky. Its reflective coating made it blend in with its surrounds. And just aboard, its two passengers made preparations to deploy.

“Alright.”

Weiss entered a few keys into her scroll, before holding it out. Holographic layers of the prison luminated for her and her partner to see.

“Our target is located at the deepest level of the structure. Here.” A red beacon flashed at the bottom of the cylindrical facility. “According to our source, breaking into the prison won’t be difficult. It’s breaking out, which will provide the most challenge.”

“It’s a prison. Of course, they made it harder to break out.”

Ignoring her partner’s remark, Weiss proceeded. “The moment the target is brought above the floor they are assigned, her location tracker will trigger the prison’s alarms. And considering the deepest levels are reserved for their most dangerous criminals, a full lock down of the entire facility will commence.”

“Did she have to be at the bottom level?”

“…Apparently, she thought it was a necessity, but that’s beside the point. That is where the target is, and that is where we have to retrieve her from.”

“Just like any bungee jump through twenty-seven levels of high security. What goes down, must come up. Shouldn’t be all that hard,” she said sarcastically.

“The two of us are more than capable of accomplishing this feat. Are you ready, Scarlet?”

“I really wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

“Are you ready?”

Ruby sighed.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The two made their final weapons check and preparations to drop. Weiss tucked her hair into the collar of her cloak and donned a White Fang mask. Ruby threw her a sideways look, while hesitating with the mask in her own hands.

“It’s only smoke screen,” Weiss added. “There’s no reason to think too deeply about it.”

When they finished, Weiss turned to the ship’s cockpit, which had no pilot in it. There, the control console was operated by the woman’s personal AI.

“Penny. Circle the area until I signal for pick up.”

[Yes, Ma’am.]

The side-doors of the aircraft slid open, and the two Huntresses dropped into freefall. The night breeze blew them back and forth in their descent. Course corrections were made along the way by shifting their drag.

Once they neared the gate doors, they timed their entry with the arrival of a descending transport ship. With the prison practically a vertical drop pit, an aircraft was what the workers used to travel up and down the levels.

By the time Weiss and Ruby were reaching groundside, the ship was already through, with the gate shutting just behind it.

“Scarlet,” Weiss called.

No response from the girl falling beside her.

“Scarlet!” she called again.

Still, nothing.

“RUBY!”

The red Huntress’s cloak expanded to the size of a parachute, before engulfing them both. Then, like a crimson specter, the fluttering cloth spilled into the thin slit of the gate just as it closed. The width of which, could not be wider than a few inches.

In Ruby’s cloaked form, her and Weiss dropped past the prison transport ship, and into the lower levels. A bed of vine and roses spawned to cushion their fall, when they made contact with the bottom floor.

The sound of the impact surprised prisoners wandering the near vicinity. But upon looking to what caused the noise, they saw nothing—save for a thin red blur at the very corner of their eyes.

Within the shadow of her partner’s cowl, Weiss tracked their positions on her scroll. The distance from her and the target was closing.

“Right at this corridor. Left, and then, another left,” she instructed along the way.

While they traversed the labyrinth with ease, Weiss couldn’t help but be impressed with Ruby’s abilities. She had studied them, of course. Trained through multiple sessions and simulations in order to familiarize. But experiencing it in a live situation, with the sensation of being spirited away, was something else entirely.

She could only wonder what else her partner was capable of…

And also, whether their fight at Beacon was actually Ruby’s version of “serious” or not.

But that was a thought for another time.

“We’re here. Past the door on your right.”

On Weiss’s instruction, Ruby’s cloak swept through the bottom slit of a locked door. The red cloth exploded in size for a brief moment. And then, like drawing a curtain, their two figures revealed on landing. A reappearance similar to the end of a magic trick.

Before them, was their target. A woman facing a bloodied-up man, tied in chains and hanging from the ceiling. Her gold gauntlets dyed in crimson from the obvious use of physical torture.

“…Yang?” Ruby muttered with a hush. “What… are you—?”

“—Ember,” Weiss called to the target and stepped forward. “The timetable for your exfil has been moved up.”

“…I know,” Yang answered, without turning around. “I got the message.”

“Then, why didn’t you respond or meet us at any of the contact points?”

“Needed more time. I wasn’t done getting our info. That IS why you sent me down here in the first place, remember?”

“I told you, we have more urgent matters for pulling you out,” Weiss huffed. “…Did you get the relevant information?”

Yang lightly shoved the near-corpse of Tyrian, like a beaten-up punching bag. Him swinging helplessly, and dripping blood all over the floor brought her a small sense of joy.

“Part of the intel,” she answered. “He lost conscious midway through. Freakin’ pillowcase.”

“We need to go, now. It won’t be long until the prison systems detect an anomaly.”

“There’s still more I can get out of him. Can Scarlet take him with us?”

Ruby stared at her sister, who she barely recognized. A Yang so cold and callous, it made her question if this was really the same person she shared her childhood with.

“—Scarlet,” Weiss prompted beside her.

“No,” Ruby shook her head. “No, we can’t take him. I can only carry two other people in my cloak.”

“Hmph, well, that’s a bummer,” Yang scoffed.

With that, she buried one more fist into the Tyrian punching bag, before turning to leave. As she passed Weiss, the woman grabbed her arm.

“Was this really warranted?”

Yang shook the woman’s hand off her prosthetic.

“He pissed me off. So, yeah. He had it coming. Now, are we going, or what?”

She then, shouldered past Ruby, and out of the room.

…

“Focus on the task at hand,” Weiss answered the blank look Ruby was throwing her way. “The issue with Ember we can wait until later. Right now, the priority is to leave this place before—”

Just then, alarms began to sound. All lights in the prison shut off, except for the flashing of red strobes.

“—That. Happens.”

“Huh. I heard they added new motions sensors,” Yang commented.

“And you only thought to mention this NOW?”

“I said, ‘I heard’. Didn’t know if they were true. Maybe, I should’ve mentioned it if it meant stalling you from coming.”

The three maneuvered through the maze, and arrived at the center yard. They looked up to where Weiss and Ruby made entry, and saw a number of gates closing overhead.

“So much for going out the way we came,” Ruby squinted.

“When the prison shuts down, it gates off a section every seven floors,” Yang told them. “So, we’re looking at four in total.”

Weiss projected the prison’s holographic map on her scroll.

“Scarlet’s Semblance doesn’t allow us to ascend at that steep an angle, especially with those shields in the way. Which means, this is our only route.”

She indicated on the projection, an arrow that circled the circumference of the cylinder like an upward spiral.

“Uphill fight. WAY uphill…” Yang grimaced. “It’s always the hard way with you.”

“As if you aren’t used to it, by now,” Weiss replied. “How many HEIT charges do you have?”

“Five. Didn’t have to use a single one while I was down here. Good thing I saved them.”

“Yes. Considering, I can’t rely on my Semblance openly. No one is to know I was down here.”

“Right,” Yang chuckled, and tapped Weiss’s White Fang mask. “Cause your Glyphs basically broadcast who you are every time you use them…”

“I’ll provide us backup support. Scarlet will move us to each gate. Ember will breach. Are the assignments clear?”

“Crystal clear, Winter.”

The two then, turned to Ruby for a response.

“…Yeah. Alright.”

At that moment, smoke canisters were being fired all around them. The prisoners along the walls began choking and vomiting profusely.

“Oh, yeah,” Yang smirked. “Did I not mention in the intel I sent you, that in the case of a full lockdown, the prisoners in the other sections get beaten to shit by the prison guards…”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’,” Weiss rested a hand on her hip.

“BUT the prisoners on the lowest levels get teargassed THEN, get beaten to shit by prison guards.”

“Hmph. How barbaric…”

As another wave of canisters launched into their closer vicinity, Weiss drew a circle around them with her Myrtenaster. Extremely cold mist concentrated to snuff the fuse triggers within each, effectively disarming them. She then, conjured a thin layer of armor to protect her group’s skin and face.

“That should do until we escape this section.” Weiss nodded to her partner. “Scarlet.”

I wish she’d stop calling me that…

Ruby expanded her cloak once more to envelope Yang and Weiss. Following her leader’s direction, she whisked them through the labyrinthian circumference of the prison. Her wraith form weaved between the chaos of other prisoners and guards, under the cover of tear gas. She slipped through tight spaces that would stop any normal-sized person.

After flying through several floors and up some staircases, the team met their first real obstacle. They reached one of the four airtight section gates. But, as if presenting the exact solution to their problems, Yang launched from the cover of the crimson cape.

A large caliber round clicked into the firing chamber of her prosthetic. The trigger was pulled, and the afterburners lining her forearm and elbow, thrust with a piercing roar. Yang’s right punch rocketed her towards the gate.

The five guards lined up to guard the stairway hatch opened fire. Unbeknownst to them, each shot Yang absorbed fed into her Semblance, making her more powerful. Her hair ignited like a blazing sun, growing brighter and brighter with every ounce of damage converted into energy.

As soon as her fist made contact with the ceiling, a plume of hellfire erupted. The steel layer, which was several feet thick, warped through the point of impact like melted foil. And Yang’s burning gauntlet carried her through to the other side.

Where she landed, she ejected the spent shell of a bullet with a satisfying clink.

One gate down, three more to go. Plenty of HEIT to spare.

After a moment, Yang looked down the hole she created, curious to where her allies were. The fluttering of Ruby’s cloak revealed the severely singed guards caught in her wanton destruction. Her little sister glared up accusingly at her.

Yang only shrugged coolly, as if to say it couldn’t be helped.

“YAN—!”

“Scarlet!” Weiss stopped her partner, and applied a simple cold treatment to the guards’ burn wounds. “This isn’t the time nor the place. We need to keep moving.”

“Grr…!”

Again, the group proceeded to the next section gate the same way as before. There were more guards and prisoners this time. Parts in their ascension could not be slipped through without interference.

To make enough room, the three dashed out of Ruby’s cape to make quick work of those standing in their way. Yang peppered a number of vitals to crumple bodies to the ground. Weiss performed a quick succession of thrusts to disable a few limbs. And Ruby summoned a nest of thorned vines to bind and cut any who remained.

As they came to the next stairway hatch, Ruby rushed ahead of Yang to disable the guards. By the time the elder sibling was throwing her punch, the younger had drew the guards out of the blast radius. Another begrudging glare from Ruby towards her older sister followed.

“—Do you think you could use your Semblance without causing unwanted casualties?” Ruby confronted.

“—I could, but I won’t,” Yang narrowed her eyes back. “Sorry, teach.”

“—Rein it in! The both of you!” Weiss ordered. “If you have the energy to argue, save it for the rest of the climb up!”

“…”

“…”

Her two teammates gave her the silent stare for a moment, but nodded their acceptance eventually. Just as they were proceeding to the next floor, Weiss grasped Yang’s shoulder and spoke in her ear.

“Minimize the blast radius of your HEIT charges. I don’t want Scarlet wasting her Aura saving people we don’t need to.”

Yang seemed to sigh dismissively, but consented to the order all the same.

Weiss continued to navigate her team, issuing instructions as the situation changed floor by floor. Even without her Semblance, she was a force to be reckon with. In some cases, her swift movement dispatched marks before her other two teammates could react.

She kept a close eye on Ruby and Yang’s statuses. Managing their stamina and Aura reserves was vital. There were moments, when she had to take the task of clearing almost an entire floor on her own. But it was thanks to that efficiency and control, her team reached the last section gate.

The steel reinforced barrier burst like a miniature volcano, sending pieces of shrapnel everywhere.

As Yang shot through the shaft she made, she took a moment to deeply inhale the fresh night air. Her eyes scanned the open skies with a sense of wonderment. It was her first taste of freedom in a while, and she wanted to enjoy it.

Weiss and Ruby joined her shortly. Weiss immediately speaking into her scroll.

“Penny. We are ready for pickup. LZ is hot. I repeat…”

All around the three, a small army of prisoner workers painted them with laser sights from their guns.

“LZ is hot.”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

In the darkness of her government office, a woman viewed the footage of one of Mistral’s prisons recent break outs. Her eyes scrutinized the video feed, replaying key frames on her terminal.

The assailants’ faces were hidden by White Fang masks. Hoods obscured their appearances, and the skills they displayed matched nothing in the Kingdom’s data banks. Also, the prisoner who escaped was catalogued under what was obviously a cover name.

“Ember Branwen…”

The woman played with how the name sounded on her lips.

“Hm. Things might be starting to move very quickly going forward.”

She brought up enhanced screenshots of the other two, and laid the three side by side. Even if the software couldn’t identify a match, and the perpetrators did well in hiding their true fighting styles, the woman could tell.

After all, she and her team studied them very closely once upon a time.

They could mismatch their movements as much as they liked, but the core of their techniques was still there. Their abilities much more developed than she had last seen, but there was no mistake.

The woman pressed a button on her desk to summon her team to the office.

Not a minute later, two figures entered.

“Did you need something, Cinder?” Emerald asked.

“Prepare to mobilize the Third Armada,” she ordered. “Mercury, I have a special job for you.”

“Who’s getting AMFed this time, boss?”

“Strictly force reconnaissance—for now. I need you and a squadron of the best of your family to infiltrate Vacuo.”

“So, we’re keeping this hush from Adam?”

“Better he remains unaware.”

“Anything I’m looking for specifically?”

“If my intuition serves me right, you’ll know when you see it.”

Emerald and Mercury stared at each other for a moment, before turning back to their leader.

“It’s happening, isn’t it?” Emerald questioned. “The End of Remnant…”

“Hm.” Cinder knitted her hands thoughtfully. “I’m not quite sure what to make of any of this yet. But there is one thing I am sure of…”

“The White Queen is making her moves.”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

It was late at night, when Team WISE returned to their covert base of operations on the island of Vytal.

Weiss was in her room, going over her notes and making future preparations for their next op, when a knock came at her door.

For a second, she thought of ignoring them.

“Don’t ignore me! I can hear you thinking about it!”

A long sigh escaped her, as she reluctantly operated the electronic panel. The entryway slid open on unlocking.

“Something I can help you with?”

“Just wanted to chat,” Yang grinned. “Can I come in?”

Weiss didn’t move, only continuing to glare up at the girl.

“You have an opinion you would like to share?”

“Hah…yeah.” Yang scratched the back of her head. “To be honest, I didn’t expect you to be the one to come get me, much less her.”

“Scarlet.”

“Sure. But seriously, I expected MY team to be the ones to break me out.”

“We are your team.”

“If you say so, Winter.”

The use of her code name, outside of operations, made her twitch. Weiss was going to yell at the woman, but knew that was exactly what Yang wanted. Instead, she controlled her temper, and decided to let her teammate say her piece.

“So, why’d you have to pull me out so quick?” Yang asked.

“There have been new developments.”

“Oh, yeah? Like, what?”

“…One of the Relics has been discovered.”

Yang’s eyes grew wide at that.

“Crap.”

“Yes. My thoughts exactly. Its location and who is in possession of it are unknown. But it is in transit.”

“Isn’t that a all-hands-on-deck kind of deal? Don’t tell me we’re going in this small?”

“We cannot stand to divert more personnel or make larger movements at this juncture. The quieter, the darker, the better. At least, for the time being.”

“…Still, did it have to be—Scarlet?”

“She is an invaluable asset to this team’s operations. We need her.”

“Are you sure, you just don’t mean you?”

Weiss locked Yang in a steely gaze.

“You only told her the bare minimum, right?” the other continued. “She doesn’t know anything about what you and I have done.”

“…No. Of course, not.”

“Hmph,” Yang scoffed. “And if she’s on the team, don’t tell me…”

“The next operation will be taking place in Vacuo.”

“…To get Adam, right?”

“No.”

“Arrrggghhh!!! Come ON, WEISS! Are we really going to recuit—”

“Yes. As you so accurately surmised, we will be proceeding to Vacuo to collect the last vital member of our team.”

Yang exhaled a long, groaning sigh of exaggerated lament. After a moment, she composed herself. The girl’s irises taking on a deathly kind of glint.

“—And, Adam? You read the info I got out of Tyrian, before you and your partner so rudely interrupted my interrogation.”

“…”

“You promised me this, Weiss.” Yang leaned her hands against the edges of the door frame. “Don’t tell me I don’t get to make that prick pay for what he did to me.”

“……What do you need?”

“I need MY team—the team that puts bodies in coffins.”

Weiss closed her eyes in thought, weighing the best choice actions versus potential fallouts.

“Team CFEN will be sorted for deployment,” she answered. “But only after Iris has been acquired. Just so you have your priorities in order.”

“Fine!” Yang banged her fist on the doorway. “We get Iris first. Then, I get Adam.”

“Agreed.”

The two teammates shared a tense silence. Yang still felt some blood rushing to her head, but was able to quiet the rage threatening to boil. Instead, she was struck with the urge to let out her pent-up stress.

“You know…I was in prison for a while. And a girl has needs.”

“…”

Seeing her leader stay silent, Yang could only grin in resignation. Just as she was about to make her way back to her room, Weiss stepped back from the door.

“Well? Are you coming in?”

Yang let a chuckle escape her.

“You sure? Ruby is here, after all. Bet you haven’t told her anything about our little arrangement.”

“…”

“…Get inside.”