Weiss “Talk Shit Get Hit” Schnee defends Ruby’s honor and bonds with her sister over mutual adrenaline addictions.

“Maybe we should spar sometime. Privately, if you get my meaning.” Weiss’ brows nearly hit her hairline. “You’re propositioning me?” “Only if you’re into it, otherwise I actually meant sparring,” Yang said with a laugh. “You’re pretty damn cute when you’re defending my little sister’s honor. What do you think? We could make it a date. Sneak out after dark, find a club, get a little drunk. I’d even show you how to dance.” She nudged Weiss with her hip.





The Beacon curriculum was designed to form hunter teams that functioned as a single entity, each individual student as inseparable from the group as a heart from a body. What the administration had failed to mention in their glossy school brochures was that they achieved that unity by crushing the students together until they either bonded or murdered each other, whichever came first.

Weiss shared a room with Ruby, Blake, and Yang, small enough that their two bunk beds and school-issued weapons lockers crowded against each other. They ate at the same mealtime, or they didn’t eat at all. They trained together, studied together, and, most embarrassingly, showered together. It was impossibly suffocating. Maddening, really.

Or rather it would have been if they hadn’t carved out time to be alone. No one made a sound when Ruby went hunting in the forest by herself, when Blake holed up in the library for a few hours, or when Yang climbed the walls as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon and came home just as it was rising again, smelling of whiskey, sweat, and gunpowder.

Breakfast was Weiss’ time, just her, her thoughts, and whatever yellowed, gummy substance the cafeteria was trying to pass off as eggs. Teams had to check into the dining hall as a unit, but once inside, Weiss was free to sit by herself. Yang and Blake had already grabbed a table of their own, while Ruby stood in the meal line with Jaune, no doubt laughing about something tastelessly immature. Weiss cupped her hands around her mug of tea, enjoying the warmth and the rare pleasure of waking up slowly.

A loud crash startled her out of her thoughts. She whirled around and saw Ruby on the ground, her cloak caught in the swinging doors that separated the dining area from the kitchen. Her tray had gone flying, eggs and pancakes smeared on the floor and down the front of her dress. Rushing forward to help, Jaune nearly tripped over her, but Pyrrha grabbed his elbow, steadying him. Together they lifted Ruby to her feet and started cleaning up the mess.

Most of The other students quickly lost interest, turning back to their conversations. A few giggled behind their hands or rolled their eyes, but one team howled with laughter. Team TAUP tugged at their collars, miming being yanked backwards, making enough noise that even sitting at another table, Weiss could clearly hear every word. Ruby pulled her hood over her head, her cheeks the same color as the fabric.

“You motherfu-” Yang roared before Blake could slap a hand over her mouth, muffling the rest of her cursing. Her hair and eyes burned red, and Weiss could catch the bitter scent of charred wood.

Blake grabbed Yang’s left arm in a painful-looking joint lock, holding Yang back from charging at the snickering members of Team TAUP. During one of their practice matches, she’d put a similar hold on Weiss, keeping her pinned for a humiliating seven minutes just by twisting her little finger. Yang wouldn’t be breaking free anytime soon.

Icy numbness spread through her hands. Weiss looked down and saw that her tea had frozen solid. Faint traces of pale blue light still flickered over her knuckles and across the tray, leaving trails of frost in their wake. She took a deep breath, checking over her shoulder to make sure no one had seen her lose control of her Aura.

Yang was still struggling despite Blake’s techniques, nearly kicking over the table as she flailed. At this rate, she’d just call more attention to the incident, or get the whole team punished if she managed to tear free and start brawling in the dining hall. As usual, Weiss would have to handle the situation discreetly.

While everyone was still focused on Yang and Blake, she walked over to the TAUP table. They were still laughing, oblivious to her approach until she was standing right next to them.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” she said, smiling pleasantly, “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. May I sit?”

They looked at one another nervously. Before they could answer, Weiss slid into the space between two of them, one relatively good looking, his biceps threatening to tear the sleeves of his dark brown shirt, the other acne-scarred with a pair of sawed-off shotgun-axes strapped to his back. They both easily had a foot of height on her, but moved until they were practically falling off the bench to make room.

Weiss elegantly crossed her legs at the ankle, her posture impeccable, and arched a brow. “Don’t let me disturb you. I believe you were mocking my teammate. Please continue.”

“Uh, look, Miss Schnee-” the one with the brown shirt began. Tanner Brune, she remembered him now, the team leader.

“Call me Weiss. Why stand on formality when we have so much in common?”

“In common?” he echoed, fidgeting with his spoon.

“Oh yes. Quite a bit. You think Ruby is complete dolt, don’t you? ” she asked.

They didn’t answer, staring at her like they might a walk across a frozen lake, terrified that one wrong step would send them plunging through the ice to the deadly water below. She waited, the silence quickly growing uncomfortable, until Brune stopped looking longingly at the exit and finally nodded, the rest of his team following suit.

“So do I. She is a dolt and a child and a show-off. Not to mention clumsy, needy, bad at inter-team communication,” Weiss continued, ticking off each insult on her fingers. “She takes constructive criticism far too personally, she’s much harder on herself than she has any right to be, and she snores.”

Brune didn’t meet her eyes, his gaze locked on his spoon as he passed it from hand to hand. “It was just a joke.”

“It’s rude to interrupt someone, and after I was so kind as to share my troubles with you. As I was saying, her taste in fashion is a few unnecessary belts and some black lipstick shy of being more terrifying than any monster we might face. And don’t even get me started on that cloak; it’s a hazard to her health and, by extension, mine.”

“Miss Schnee, I think my team and I really need to go-”

“I’m not finished,” she said, her mask of sickly sweet commiseration cracking for the first time, her smile colder and sharper than Myrtenaster’s blade. “But you are. You see, despite her many, many faults, Ruby has enough redeeming qualities to balance them out. She’s honest, forgiving, and very kind, while, unfortunately for you, I am none of those. Do you have any idea what I am? Even the slightest notion?”

He unconsciously leaned away from her. “Weiss Schnee?” he asked haltingly.

Weiss reached over and plucked the spoon from his unresisting fingers. The metal felt a little warm and damp, clammy from his hands. “No, that’s who I am, not what. I’m the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, the largest producer of energy propellant in the entire world.”

“I know-”

“You really don’t. Let me ask you another question. You know the students and faculty here rely on purified, refined Dust to power their weapons, yes? And seeing as my family is the one supplying it at below market prices as a favor to the school, don’t you think the administration will do everything in their power to make sure I have an enjoyable scholastic experience?”

He choked.

“Just to be absolutely clear, since you seem pretty slow on the uptake, this is a threat. I’m threatening you,” Weiss said airily, using the back of the spoon as a mirror to check her hair. “From this moment on, you and your team will be nothing but polite and encouraging to Ruby, or I’ll have you sent on every terrible, humiliating mission I can find. You’ll be guarding the city septic tanks or smashing Nevermore eggs in some forgotten chunk of wilderness until I get bored of making you suffer.”

Brune’s face went from white to purple. Grinding his teeth with fury, he looked from Weiss to the other members of his team. There would be no help from them, they were all staring at their feet or quietly edging away from the table. The spoon clattered to the floor as Weiss grabbed his wrist just before he managed to draw the vicious-looking cleaver at his belt.

“You’re full of brilliant ideas today, aren’t you? Fine. If you want to, then do it. Attack me. You won’t like what comes after, but,” Weiss slowly let go of him and folded her hands in her lap, her voice growing soft, “everyone should be free to choose their own path.”

This close, he had the advantage. Weiss wouldn’t be able to dodge, and her Aura wasn’t strong enough to completely block a shot at point-blank range. Though neither of them had drawn a weapon yet, this was a fight, and her heart pounded with anticipation.

Head bowed, Brune shoved the cleaver back in its sheath. Victory by default, Weiss was almost disappointed.

“Good boy. Now, why don’t you pick that up,” she gestured at the spoon, “and those, while you’re at it,” a sweep of her arm indicating the trembling members of Team TAUP “and leave, hmm?”

He snatched the spoon off the floor, practically hurling it onto his tray, and started to hurry away, the rest of his team scrambling to keep up.

“Wait one moment.”

Brune turned back, looking as if one more word from her would make him faint, but Weiss merely plucked the fruit cup off his plate and waved him off. She sat at the empty table for a few minutes, idly tracing the scratches Team TAUP had gouged into the table, giving them a head start before she made her own exit. There was still a half-hour left before breakfast was over. If she hurried, she’d be able to lock herself in one of the practice rooms and run through her forms until all the residual excitement from the conversation was exhausted.

There was a gentle tap on her shoulder. Ruby stood next to her, the bits and pieces of food she’d managed to rescue from the floor sloppily piled on her tray. Syrup slicked her bangs, strands of hair sticking to her forehead and neck, but her smile was bright.

“Weiss,” she whispered, bending low so her mouth was right by Weiss’ ear, “everyone’s staring at you. Did something happen?” She frowned. “Were they making fun of you too?”

Weiss stood, brushing the wrinkles out of her skirt, and placed the fruit cup on the corner of Ruby’s tray. “Ha! They wouldn’t dare. I was just discussing proper dining hall etiquette, but I seem to have lost my audience.”

Ruby nodded sagely. “Those guys are jerks. I’d be happy to listen if you want to talk about salad forks or whatever. That’s etiquette, right? Salad forks and curtsies?”

“The only way you’d be interested in salad forks is if they came with retractable blades and long-range sniping capabilities, and,” she added quickly, seeing Ruby’s face start to light up, “no, there is absolutely no place for weaponized silverware at the dinner table.”

“Aw, okay. Did you still want to sit with us?”

Weiss glanced at her hands, nearly twitching with unused adrenaline, and shook her head. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

She walked with Ruby to the table. As soon as they were within reach, Yang pulled Ruby down on the bench, licked her thumb, and started wiping at the worst of the mess on Ruby’s face to Ruby’s utter horror. Unwilling to be drawn into the growing scuffle, Weiss quickly made her excuses and hurried out of the dining hall.

Weiss took the long way to the training rooms just to make sure she wouldn’t run into any of the members of Team TAUP. Humiliation made people stupid, and it wouldn’t do to have any physical confrontations staining her pristine academic record. As soon as she started down a deserted back hallway, she heard a voice call out from behind her.

“Hey, hold up!” Yang rounded the corner, her hair flying behind her like the tail of a comet.

“I thought you’d still be grooming your little sister.” Weiss crossed her arms and fixed Yang with her best stern expression. “Before you ask, I don’t know where those idiots wandered off to.”

“Ruby’s a big girl, she can finish cleaning herself up.”

“Not big enough to fight her own battles apparently. If you’re planning on doing something stupidly violent, would it be too much to ask you not to drag the rest of the team down with you?”

“Yeah, well,” Yang said, cracking her knuckles. Flames licked her gauntlets, making it impossible to tell where the fire ended and the metal began. “Family is family.”

Yang continued and the flames flickered out, smoke curling around her forearms. “But I’m not looking for a fight. Hell, after you were through, I almost felt sorry for ‘em.” She clapped Weiss on the shoulder, the friendly blow sending Weiss reeling back a few steps. “You’re a good friend, princess.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that,” Weiss scoffed as she checked her jacket for scorch marks.

“Sometimes you make it really hard to be nice to you.” Yang affected a ridiculous aristocratic accent and held both her pinky fingers over her head. “Compliments? Thanking me? Ugh, the nerve of these peasants, thinking they’re people.”

Rolling her eyes, Weiss said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re welcome. It was my pleasure to threaten people on your sister’s behalf.” She dropped into an elegant curtsey for good measure. “Are we done here?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just one more thing…” Yang snatched her up in a crushing hug. “C’mere!”

Weiss could feel her bones creak with strain as she was practically smothered in Yang’s chest, her feet dangling uselessly off the ground. No matter how she squirmed and kicked she couldn’t wriggle free. Yang’s arms were corded with hard muscle, and Weiss would never win in a contest of brute strength. It was nothing but a miracle that Ruby had survived her childhood, if she had to put up with this on a regular basis.

After one last squeeze that forced the remaining air out of Weiss’ lungs in an ugly gasp, Yang put her down, beaming. She reached out to ruffle Weiss’ hair, but Weiss ducked under her arm, stumbling until her back hit the wall. Her cheeks were flushed pink and she braced her hands on her knees while she caught her breath.

“You utter dunce! How- how dare you!” she said in between pants. She pressed a hand to her chest, the brief struggle enough set her heart racing again.

Yang leaned against the wall, eyeing her with an intensity that Weiss had only seen her use for sparring partners and partial nudity. There was a long pause, and then Yang smirked. “That fight get you a little worked up, princess?”

“Excuse me?”

“Heh, it totally did,” she said, planting a hand on the wall next to Weiss’ head. They were close enough now that Weiss had to look up to see Yang’s face. She could smell the faint scent of smoke and gunpowder than clung to Yang’s skin. “It’s all over your face.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Weiss hissed. “Move this instant.”

“Or what?” Yang’s tone made it sound as much an invitation as a challenge.

“Or else I’ll…” Her hands balled into fists before she managed to relax them again. Yang might be infuriating, but Weiss wasn’t some rabid animal. She was a proper young lady and she had self-control. “Just move.”

Yang’s arm stayed right where it was, but she did lean back a little so she wasn’t looming over Weiss. “I knew it,” she muttered, seemingly to herself as much as to Weiss. “I knew it. You’re like me.”

“Like you?” Weiss asked. “Don’t make me laugh. The only things we have in common are good hair and an unfortunate soft spot for a juvenile idiot.”

“C’mon, you’re telling me you don’t feel it? When you’re in the middle of a fight and everything’s awesome, but you just want more. More danger. More fun. More everything.” Yang’s eyes closed like she was trying to recall a memory, her other arm coming up to cage Weiss in between them. “So you down another drink or punch another monster, but you know that you’ll always want a little bit more. You don’t feel any of that?”

“No…”

It wasn’t a lie, not entirely. Weiss didn’t feel more alive during her fights, she felt alive. When her heart pounded in her chest and her blood surged with adrenaline, she could believe she wasn’t just another company investment, echoing perfection but never quite reaching it, she was her own. She was warm. She was whole. Those moments were hers alone, beautiful in their imperfection.

“But I understand,” Weiss finished. She rested a hand on Yang’s arm, the skin hot and dry under her fingers. “I think I would enjoy it.”

Yang’s smile widened. “Got to say, the rush is the same whether you’re fighting a monster or flirting with some hot guy. Or girl,” she said, winking. “Maybe we should spar sometime. Privately, if you get my meaning.”

Weiss’ brows nearly hit her hairline. “You’re propositioning me?”

“Only if you’re into it, otherwise I actually meant sparring,” Yang said with a laugh. “You’re pretty damn cute when you’re defending my little sister’s honor. What do you think? We could make it a date. Sneak out after dark, find a club, get a little drunk. I’d even show you how to dance.” She nudged Weiss with her hip.

“You must be joking. I was taking dancing lessons as soon as I could walk, there’s not a step you could teach me that I haven’t already mastered forwards and backwards. In heels, no less.”

“Whatever you say, princess. If you change your mind, let me know. The offer doesn’t exactly have an expiration date.” Yang started to move away, but Weiss caught her scarf and hauled her back down, their faces only a few inches apart.

“I didn’t mean to imply that I wasn’t interested, just that I would be the one teaching you.”

Yang’s eyes widened, then she grinned. “Really?”

“Oh, absolutely. I expect that you’ll be an attentive student.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Yang’s hands settled on her hips, pulling them closer together. She asked, her voice a low whisper, “Any chance I could get a little preview, teach’?”

Weiss reached up, tangling her hands in Yang’s mane, and crushed their lips together. Weiss didn’t have much practice kissing, her parents had seen to that with all their talks on duty and responsibility, but Yang was quick to take over, easing her mouth open and helping her find a decent rhythm with her lips and tongue. Yang kissed with all of herself, all of her energy, demanding more and more, and Weiss just tipped her head back and gave. Her pulse pounded in the back of her throat, and she wondered if Yang could feel it, wondered if Yang’s felt the same.

Yang’s mouth was warm and her gloss smeared across Weiss’ chin, only for Yang to lick it clean. With their height difference the angle was a little awkward, Yang had to bend her neck in an uncomfortable way to maintain the kiss and stay tight against Weiss. A frustrated huff was the only warning Weiss got before she felt Yang’s hands at the back of her thighs.

Before Weiss could muster enough dignity to be scandalized, Yang lifted her up, never breaking the kiss. Weiss wrapped her legs around Yang’s waist, squeezing far too tightly until she realized that Yang had no trouble supporting her weight. She tried to pull back enough to glare at Yang, but Yang followed her, barely giving her space to breathe. Pressed up against the smooth stone of the wall, Yang’s hipbones digging into her thighs, Weiss felt nothing but heat and need.

Yang was wrong; this was nothing like the thrill she got from a fight. It was so much better.

They didn’t stop until Weiss’ lips felt bruised and swollen, and Yang was panting against her mouth, the little shifts she made to keep her balance making Weiss acutely aware of their positioning. Finally, she put a hand on Yang’s chest and pushed her back despite the way Yang pouted and tried to duck in for one last kiss.

Weiss placed a finger on Yang’s lips. “You may pick me up at ten on the dot. And it’s ‘heiress’.”

“I liked ‘princess’. Hmm, what about ‘your majesty’? Or ‘her royal highness’?” Yang asked as she carefully put Weiss down, making sure Weiss’ legs would hold her before she let go.

“Keep it up, I dare you. You’ll be the one guarding septic tanks and hunting down Nevermore eggs at this rate.”

Yang threw her hands up in mock surrender. “Spare me, frostbite.”

“Frostbite? Frostbite? You’ll pay for that one, Yang Xiao Long.” Weiss’ attempt at a furious expression was somewhat undercut by her darkening blush. “Just wait until tonight.”