Author's Note: Welp, was struggling to finish this chapter on New Year's Day but…meh, was one or two hours late on that. Ah well. In either case, Happy Late New Years! For another added lateness, it was also TigerLilly22's birthday a couple days so happy late birthday to her! In case any of you haven't (which would be crazy), make sure to check out her Bumblebee workz as they're definitely one of the best ones out there. Always like to give shout-outs to fellow worker bees of the Bumblebums!

Anyway, this be the last chapter. And this is also the chapter where I tried my hand at some sex. Whether you think it's good or terrible, I probably won't be doing something like that again for a long time. So if you thought it was good, too bad! If you think it's terrible, don't worry, I'm not gonna do it again.

Time to add another completed fic to my list! And another that became longer than I planned on *sigh*

It really did look like something taken straight out of an old fantasy book. The high towers that pointed up towards the sky with the tallest one being the closest to touching the full moon overhead. Alongside the lunar body and amongst the stars, the suspended spheres within that tower glowed a dull green. Beneath them were the arches that surrounded the vicinity of the combat school as if walls but they didn't block the sight of the stone walkways that cut through a courtyard maintaining aspects of nature with ponds, grass, trees, and bushes that were allowed to grow freely.

Off at the edge of the cliff where Beacon was situated were the line of landing pads but none of the three Atlesian-manufactured warships were making use of them, instead hovering over the water lane that connected Beacon to Vale. They were long, sharp-nosed vessels that looked like floating blades ready to stab forward at a moment's notice.

Beacon and the waiting battlegroup stood in defense of the city that lay spread out just beyond. A city that was bright and alive even long into the night and home to what had to be millions of people. All of them were safe and protected from the harshness of the rest of the world that dwelled within the black territories that were the home of beasts.

This included Blake. Though she was no Grimm, she peered at the combat school from the shadows as if she were a prowling Beowolf complete with the mask. And, if she was ever spotted, she would probably be dispensed as one.

It hadn't been too difficult to sneak onto the academy's grounds. Stowaway within one of the evening flights from Vale to Beacon where there would be the least number of passengers and crew at their least attentive and then immediately move from the landing pad to the outskirts of the school where rolling hills and some forestry gave her plenty of spots to hide with the coming of night. Once she settled down in such a spot, she had taken out her scroll and sent a message to Yang.

She had uncovered and memorized Yang's number during one of their after-battle 'breaks'. Despite such obvious ideas that would come with the action, it was more of the value of having such a direct line of communication on hand rather than the chance of actually using it that influenced Blake to take Yang's scroll when she had been passed out. This would be the first time she ever used it, directing Yang to walk in the direction in which she was waiting for her and to do so alone.

[I'll see you.] She had typed that at the end, both as a warning and as a hint to who the messenger was. To give her additional help, she had signed off the message as 'Black'. When Yang replied, it wasn't so much the fact that she did that surprised Blake but how she did so.

[I'll be there.]

Blake had stared at the short response for a good minute. It wasn't a refusal, it wasn't a demand for answers, or any kind of reply that would've been laced with suspicion. It was just that short sentence that seemed to resonate such...trust.

Placing her scroll back on her person, Blake resumed inspecting everything that she was supposed to be against. It had never dawned on her as it did now as to the scale of what kind of conflict the White Fang desired and what has become increasingly likely to happen. With her indifferent nature, limiting herself to the targets that she was assigned to kill, the term 'war' had never held such significance to her, especially with her rivalry of Yang occupying a portion of her time.

Beacon, while the most prestigious combat school, was only one out of many while the warships were only a fraction of the numbers of the Atlesian air fleets. And Vale was just one kingdom with three more being planned to fall right after it. If the White Fang prevailed here.

The odds as to how her group could possibly do so have never bothered her. She would just be pointed in a direction, given a name or face, and she would go to work only to return for the process to repeat itself. It was a lifestyle that she had found herself in and quietly accepted that that would be all that her life was going to be until it inevitably came to an end. Win or lose, she would continue.

It wasn't the odds that were on her mind or the combatants she was destined to face. When she viewed Vale, she wondered about its people.

The White Fang were on their way to light the spark that would ignite the powder keg that was Vale, their intents being to plunge the entirety of Remnant into a conflict that had the potential to completely remake it. Specifically, it would be remade into a world where humanity was dead and gone and the balance of power would tip towards the faunus. That city off in the distance could end up burned to the ground, erasing any traces of humankind in a way that the Grimm have always desired but would be accomplished by the monsters that humans had inadvertently created.

People will die; human and faunus. But not only will it be the Hunters of Beacon, the soldiers of Atlas, and the assassins and would-be revolutionaries of the White Fang that would die, but the countless innocents that would be caught in the crossfire. And with their revolution in sight, Blake knew firsthand that the White Fang would give no quarter to even their own kind. They've already killed former comrades who have renounced their loyalty - Blake herself had killed two - and those who won't pick a side in the coming conflict may as well turn against them since their leaders will see it as a preference to remain under human rule.

That's not just how it will be but how it's always been so Blake shouldn't be concerned about it. Yet, looking at Vale, thinking of faunus like the gazelle faunus who helped her, and the humans whose only crime was ignorance of how bad the animosity between their two races was-

Just like them. Just like her.

There came a slight grimace, Blake briefly touching the side of her head. It didn't hurt, not exactly, but there was this sensation akin to her mind being too overloaded with conflicting thoughts that she couldn't keep up with. That was something she had experienced numerous times before, back when she struggled to come to terms with what she and the White Fang were becoming, trying to justify it, only to truly understand that there was no 'just' answer.

Back then she had thought like many before that it was the humans who were at fault. They had tried to do things peacefully but, in exchange, humans had treated them as ungrateful animals. It was so tempting, so easy, to just give in and show those same humans of what kind of animals they can really be and the reason they've done so was because of the mistreatment that the faunus have been forced to undergo because of them.

But did that make them all guilty? When the attacks began, when the killing really started, was it really warranted? They targeted the ones in control but there were others who died simply by association. Did they deserve it?

Her side argued that they did. One of the reasons it came to this was because they didn't do anything whether because they hated the faunus or just didn't care about them. They may not have directly thrown those stones that have struck several faunus or condemned them to lives of servitude but the fact that they weren't doing anything to stop it meant they might as well have.

They just wanted to live their lives though. They may not have cared because they thought it didn't concern them and didn't harbor any true hatred to the faunus. Ignorance being no excuse was another such easy response but when you think of how people have worked to obtain their own measure of peace, only to have it all turned upside down, was it really that justifiable?

Those crewmembers didn't know. They worked for Schnee Dust but did that mean they hated faunus and not because they just wanted a job? Did they really deserve to be blown up when Blake-

Stop it. Blake had her eyes squeezed shut, her nails digging into her scalp. Stop thinking.

It was hard though and she didn't know why it was. If equality had really been hopeless, what of the faunus who had established themselves in Vale and the other kingdoms? They got a chance despite the human-centric councils and Blake knew of faunus and humans who have been able to engage in marriage. Was it really all right to tear their lives apart because of those who hadn't been given that same chance? True, there were so many more who were being oppressed, who had spent years working to obtain it only to be spurned at every turn, but was it really selfish to just forsake all that work and choose force?

Sometimes that was what it took. There have been revolutions in the past, people who have once been labeled as traitors and rebels and terrorists only to be known as heroes when their battles succeeded and whatever crimes they committed were pardoned in the wake of the changes they implemented. The most horrific of sins became necessary steps for a better future in history.

But must war always be necessary for this kind of change? Faster, perhaps, maybe even more effective, but must it always be the answer?

It was only eighty years ago that such a war had been completed and established the ruling bodies they had today so what right did they have to denounce the White Fang's efforts when those governments had been made through the exact same methods only to oppress another group of people?

They weren't fighting for equal rights anymore though. They wanted to wipe out humanity. Anyone who got in the way would die even if it were faunus who didn't want to fight or humans like those crewmembers who had only wanted to live and-

I DON'T CARE!

The declaration, as explosive as the charges she triggered, was enough to snap Blake out of it, the cat faunus jerking her head back out of the mental hold that had momentarily returned her to someplace that made her sick to her stomach. What had thinking such things ever led her to?

They were absent now and to make sure they stayed that way Blake took another look at what had influenced those troublesome thoughts. This time, instead of thinking of the people who would be affected by what she and her comrades were doing, she asked herself what possible place there was for her in any of this.

Nowhere. Those people who she concerned herself with would only call her a monster and the guardians who defended them saw her as one that needed to be slain if she was ever to reveal herself to them.

This really was a fantasy story and she really was the monster that was regularly featured in them. Monsters were only meant to terrorize the local populace until some hero rises up to the challenge to slay them, earning the love and respect from the citizens that they guarded. The demise of such a creature was meant to be celebrated, never mourned for.

Blake's hand shifted down so that her fingers could touch her mask. The cold and solid feeling of the metal spread from her fingertips to circulate throughout the rest of her, entombing the doubt within the dark recesses of her mind as the veil did to her own humanity.

It was at that moment that she spotted the solitary figure that had crested over the hill and was now descending down it, steadily coming towards Blake's position. Instead of stepping fully out from behind the bush that hid her, Blake sank down further to better hide while she inspected the arrival as they drew closer.

The hair was the biggest identifying mark of course, those ringlets Blake would be able to recognize anywhere at this point, including in the middle of the night. They shifted with the movements of her head, the girl vainly attempting to spot Blake but her eyesight was far from suitable. She came dressed in her usual combat attire of brown leathers and the faunus could see Ember Celica at her wrists.

The gauntlets were not out and ready for a fight though. Instead, they were currently inert and Yang didn't seem too inclined to use them anytime soon. Although she was surrounded by darkness, knew that Blake was around in it somewhere, the Huntress-in-training had a hand on one hip and her searching motions were unhurried, lacking any real expectance of danger.

Blake knew that Yang really had no need to be worried about being attacked. It was less about them being practically at the doorstep of her home territory as it was just another of their unwritten rules. Never had they attempted to strike each other down in any sort of sneak attack without at least giving some sign that they were around and given a chance to properly prepare.

They never had but that didn't mean it couldn't change and Blake experienced a sudden flash of irritation at Yang's relaxed demeanor. Did it not bother her or make her suspicious in the least that she had been instructed to come out here, alone? Had it not crossed her mind that this could be the night where their little game would finally come to an end and Blake would be using their arrangement to her advantage to kill or, better yet, capture her?

The temptation briefly came to give Yang a more immediate reminder but the scroll in her pocket outweighed the sword at her back. Information would prove to be more powerful than a sharp edge and, when this was all over, not seeing each other again was the least that they could do.

"Blake?"

One feline ear twitched at hearing her name and the aggression ebbed with how softly it was spoken. Blake stayed where she was in a low crouch, the knuckles of one fist pressed into the grass while the other rested on her knee. She didn't make a move to reveal herself, instead watching through the foliage as Yang drew closer, still trying to spot any kind of sign of the agent.

"Blake?"

There came another twitch of that same ear but, otherwise, Blake stayed still.

Yang turned, unknowingly presenting her back. "Blake, you there?"

Three was enough. Blake rose to her feet. "Right here, Yang."

Yang spun around, that hair swirling around to unveil her startled features. She didn't drop into a fighting stance or show any sign of hostility, however. That initial tension that seized her muscles relaxed, her features doing the same as soon as she saw Blake. "Oh, there you are!"

Blake said nothing and chose to step around the bush in order to fully reveal herself. A smile had come to Yang's face but it was small and became uneasy the longer the faunus kept her silence. Soon, the young Huntress was leaning back, eyeing their surroundings and the sky. "Sooo…nice night, huh?"

"I suppose," Blake replied noncommittally.

"Uh huh." Yang focused back on Blake, her head tilting and her smile shifting to a frown. One brow became quirked. "Any particular reason why you decided to call me out here on this particular night? I mean, not that I mind or anything; it's just that I haven't exactly expected you to ever be here when Beacon is right over, well, there."

Rather than get right down to business, Blake questioned, "Did I pull you away from anything important?"

"Oh, nothing like that," Yang assured, waving her hand dismissively. "I mean, yeah, there's some dance going on tonight but I didn't really care that much about attending. Couldn't get myself a suitable date for it."

Blake briefly looked back over in the direction of Beacon, trying to see some evidence of this dance but found no obvious signs. It was probably somewhere within the heart of the campus, way too much a distance for her. "And your team?"

"Enjoying themselves last I saw."

So her team was distracted as was a good portion of the student body and, more importantly, the staff. Fortuitous. They had all the privacy that the agent could ask for considering the circumstances.

"You didn't answer my question by the way. A midnight fight sounds nice and all but I hardly think this is the place for one."

Blake returned her gaze to Yang and was thankful for her mask as she found it difficult to meet her narrowed eyes. Still nothing particularly antagonistic but, no matter how she may act, Yang could be very perceptive and there was no hiding these obvious indications of something being very out of the ordinary here.

And there were the signs that weren't so obvious, such as the fact that Blake was still wearing her Grimm mask.

The faunus dipped a hand into her pocket, fingertips touching the thin edge of her scroll, and Yang took note of the movement. "Got something there?"

"I do," Blake confirmed. "After our last fight, you asked me if I ever saw or knew anything about the woman in the photo you showed me."

The change to Yang's posture was instantaneous. Her spine straightened, brows rising high and Blake knew that she had her full attention. It also confirmed everything that she had thought about before: that the woman that she had seen was very much important to Yang.

"Did you find out something?" Yang asked, the anticipation palpable. She seemed about ready to pounce and bombard Blake with questions but was forcing herself to remain where she was.

Blake pinched the device between her digits but didn't make any move to pull it out just yet. She instead took a moment to examine Yang, her hidden gaze taking note of the amount of hope in the human's eyes and how her expression clearly said how this information – any information – had been something that she had desired. For how long and how much Blake didn't know but could make guesses.

"Before I say anything about that," Blake spoke, "I need to say something else. Yang, while I'm not sure if this will be the last time we'll ever see each other again, I do know that, after tonight, this will be the last time we'll ever meet like…this."

That got Yang to restrain herself. As eager as she was to learn about the information that Blake carried, the faunus's words had her digesting the significance behind them. When she did, Yang appeared concern. "Is something happening?"

"You know I can't tell you the specifics and, honestly, I'm not sure of them myself. All I can say is that things are happening in the White Fang. In a couple hours I'll be leaving Vale and, if we ever do meet again, it will not be as acquaintances." Despite all they had been through, Blake had never been able to even think of themselves as friends, especially not now.

Yang quietly regarded her, the wheels no doubt turning in her head about what it may be that the White Fang was up to. She probably had an idea as she had been there at the rally when Torchwick had briefed the new recruits about something going on in the southeast and it was Team RWBY that was constantly in the way of the Vale cell's operations. Even if she did, Blake didn't know if RWBY would be able to follow the White Fang and meddle in any affairs outside the kingdom. Maybe they would bring it up to their superiors, especially with what Blake was choosing to inform Yang about now, and if they did the agent wouldn't blame them.

If anything, she was a little relieved at the prospect.

Blake wasn't expecting Yang's concern to transition to full-on worry and even regret. "So that's it?"

"It…yes, it is." Saying it aloud really did give that finality to it that hadn't been there before no matter how much Blake had thought about it.

Yang bit her lip, becoming lost in thought as she also registered it. Instead of accepting it, however, her fingers slowly clenched and unclenched at her sides, clearly wanting to do something against this but couldn't quite figure out how to do so. There was nothing solid for her to hit. Nothing that she could beat down and prevent what had always been inevitable.

Her struggle was not completely in vain though. Watching Yang, seeing her clearly torn about this, convinced Blake to bring up the issue that had plagued her ever since this all started between them. She believed she had figured it out but if this was going to be their last time, she wanted to be sure. "Yang, what was all this to you?"

"This?"

"This." Blake gestured to herself, to Yang, and then all around them. "All of this. We've been at this for months. We sneak away from our teams, we fight, we beat each other senseless, and then we do it over and over again. Bizarre doesn't even begin to describe what we've been doing."

"That's true," Yang conceded, sporting a tiny smirk.

"So why do you do it? I don't know about you, but when we met each other at the rally and I came after you, it was with every intention to kill you. You were a Huntress meddling in the White Fang's affairs and I was the assassin sent to kill you. When we fell from the highway, I really thought you were dead and I was ready to turn around and forget all about you. So how did it come to this? Why did you decide to let this become a thing?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure if I have the full answer to that either." Yang rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "Don't get me wrong, I knew you were trying to kill me. It certainly felt like you were and I was still feeling it in the morning. And I admit to liking it. I've made some enemies here and there but you were the first person who tried that hard and came that close to making me dead. After that night when we gave each other our names, I hoped that we would meet and fight again."

"That was all it was to you then?" Blake asked. "Just a good fight?"

"Well, yeah, but only at first."

Blake blinked behind those gold-tinted lenses. "What do you mean?"

"How to explain…" Her tight-fitting shorts lacking pockets, Yang chose to slide her hands beneath the belt that held up her skirt, tugging against it while she kicked at the ground absently. "My team interrupted us before we could finish and the only thing I could think of for a while was finding and meeting you again so that we could settle that score. Then we did meet again but, that time, you had to retreat with your other guys."

Blake remembered that. It had been a White Fang safe house that had been uncovered and later assaulted. She had been in the area and chose to cover the retreat of the fleeing members. She didn't know if Yang had actually been looking for her that night but the two of them did meet again and briefly clashed before the growing presence of the kingdom's police had forced Blake to break off and retreat much like before.

"Then we met for a third time," Yang continued, "and I thought that was going to be the charm. We could've ended it there but then there was that crazy idea of why should we?"

It had been the exact same idea that Blake had. Ember Celica's barrel had been pressed to her cheek while Gambol Shroud had been at Yang's throat. They had both been glaring at each other – bruised, bleeding, and panting for breath -, each one poised to deliver their own finishing blow. After having been denied a victory twice, they had both wanted to finish it.

Or did they? It had dawned on the human first, Blake having seen how Yang snapped herself out of the combat-induced haze. She had looked, really looked, as best as she could into Blake's hidden eyes and the action had brought the faunus out of it as well. An understanding had passed between them that started with Ember Celica drifting away an inch, Gambol Shroud similarly pulling back until finally they were separated with weapons hanging low.

For Blake, Yang had become more than a worthy opponent who could reignite that spark of life with their duels. In that moment, there came a different kind of connection that led them to silently agreeing to separate and lower their weapons. For what felt like too long in her life, Blake had found someone who really could understand her in light of such simple actions even if it was something that only occurred on the battlefield.

"But why?" Blake asked, having found no true answer even after all this time. "If it isn't just about the fighting then what is it? You only knew me as an enemy and, after we met, you had to have figured out what I've done. You weren't the first person I went after, Yang; you're just the first I haven't killed."

Yang didn't offer an immediate response to that and her thumbs played with the clasp of her belt in the ensuing silence. Then, nodding, she said, "I did know."

"Did you?" Blake queried. "Do you? I've killed…" She paused before shaking her head. "I don't even know how many people I've killed. Countless. Not just humans either as I've killed faunus, too. My own kind. Why would you ever want to associate with someone like that?"

"I don't know," Yang admitted. "When you say it like that, you really should've just been someone who I should've taken down a long time ago."

"Then why?" Blake asked with more insistence. That's what every other human had thought of her and not just after she became a killer but before as well. She eventually chose to believe it and accept it once she committed that unforgivable act. So why now and why a human? Why Yang of all people?

"You were…different." Shrugging, Yang elaborated, "Back then at the rally, there were all those faunus who couldn't wait to see me executed. They were cheering for it if I remember correctly. Then there was you; that White Fang assassin who was ready to slit my throat. I didn't truly understand back then but while all those others were demanding for blood, you were just standing there all quiet. You weren't acting like them and I guess that got me curious. Then when we started fighting all those times…"

Yang lowered her head, staring at her hands. "I like fighting. I like the adrenaline, I like the thrill, and one of the things I always wish for is to fight someone who could make it last. My Semblance is all about that; to keep hitting and being hit, let it all build up, and then let it all go when I have enough. But there's more to it than that and I guess I never really understood until I started fighting you. It goes without saying that you enjoy it - we both know that.

You just admitted to killing people and, while that may be true, all I can think of are all of our battles and what I sense from each one. It didn't feel like I was fighting a murderer or some psychopath. You liked it just as much as I did but for different reasons. I wanted to fight someone as good as I am, and I think you wanted to fight me and keep fighting me because I was someone who only saw you as that and not a murderer. You say you've killed people but…something tells me that that was something you never wanted to do."

Blake didn't say anything and found that the reason for it was because she couldn't. That was why she did it. She could label it all as a distraction but there was no use to denying that the reason she had first started enjoying it and the reason why she kept meeting Yang was because she was the first human who had treated her as an equal. She had enjoyed being seen as that and she'd always snap at Yang whenever she made a mention about her faunus traits, not wanting to remember the divide that existed between them no matter what their opinions may be.

But Yang just said…

"I was someone who only saw you as that and not a murderer."

Murderer. She said murderer. Not faunus which might as well be equal to that in the eyes of most people. She didn't care about that and probably never did. She was one of those humans who didn't register the difference between their races and all the pain that it caused, including what it drove Blake to do and…

It was too late and she said that out loud. "It's too late. Whether I wanted to or not it doesn't matter. I am a murderer. No matter how much different you think of me compared to the rest, in that regard we're the same."

It was far, far too late. She sealed her fate as soon as she pressed that button and truly joined the ranks of the White Fang, becoming another faunus who had forsaken everything in exchange for the capability to do what others couldn't. It doesn't matter if she didn't want to do it or not because she had already done it. It was too late.

So she was taken completely off guard when Yang asked, "Is it too late?"

She couldn't possibly see how Blake was looking at her but the faunus's mouth opening in disbelief may've been more than enough while Blake stuttered, "W-what?"

Lifting her head, Yang focused right at her eyes much like how she had done before when they had wordlessly agreed to turning this into something more than just another battle to the death between human and faunus. "You didn't want to do it and you still don't. I feel quite sure about that. So why not stop? You said you have to leave Vale because of what the White Fang are planning next. Why not stay instead? I can't say for certain about all that's happened to you or why you chose to become a killer, but don't you think you can stay here and start over despite all of that instead of continuing?"

Start…over?

The site of the carnage that was burning, skeletal remains that was the result of the explosives and released energies of Nature's Wrath crossed Blake's mind. All that destruction, all the lives that had been lost in the center of it, all literally done by her hand. How could she possibly start over after something like that?

She couldn't. That was what she told herself. She had become a murderer, had fallen, and was no longer any different from Adam or their fellow brethren.

But that wasn't-

It was always meant to be and she had been to blind to it. Her skills and her weapons had been meant to kill humans. She had remained in a group that was doing just that for years. It was going to happen and staying doomed her to it.

Killing wasn't-

She didn't do anything to prevent it. She didn't leave. She completed her mission to the fullest. It was unavoidable.

All of that wasn't-

She stayed. She killed. She had gone on to do so without question and without thought. She just let the body count get bigger and bigger without stopping and had done so with lethal efficiency that was devoid of any hesitation until she had left a long trail of corpses behind her. Not once had she ever looked back.

It wasn't what I wanted to do.

It was that part of her that had futilely tried and failed to prevent her from making that mistake. It was her conscience that had held out until the very end when it had died along with the innocents that she massacred. Never again was it meant to utter a word as it was doing now.

All because of this possibility that not all was as lost as she had believed.

"No!"

Blake witnessed Yang jumping at her shout but the faunus was barely aware of it. She was too busy looking back over her shoulder at the path of death that she had carved out and left in her wake. Human, faunus, young, old. She killed them all.

"You're wrong," she exclaimed, her voice a horrified whisper. Her hand was back against her head as she shook it fiercely to try and put a stop to the faces that were running through her mind. What had been once featureless targets became names. People. "You're wrong, you're wrong!"

From the shadows she had struck and she had done so with speed and little room for error. She heard all kinds of wet, choking sounds that changed in tune depending on what organ she stabbed or where she cut. She felt all too plainly those subtle resistances of bones that were so diverse when it came to thickness but what Gambol Shroud cleaved through anyway. Each deed came with the heavy scent of blood that would flood her nose.

But all of that was meant to disrupt the worst thing she would hear from her victims if she was not quick enough to silence them: their pleas of mercy. Their testaments of innocence. Their fear of death and wanting to live. Those mentions of family members or loved ones who would miss them and would experience such pain when they were gone. All done by her.

All of which she was now being told could've been prevented.

No, it couldn't have, Blake argued, doing the one thing that she hadn't done before: make excuses. There was nothing else. I tried but no one would listen or ask what I wanted.

Everyone just kept turning her into something they wanted. Humans saw her as an animal who didn't deserve the most basic human rights. Adam and the White Fang saw her as a weapon that could be forged against humanity. She had never been given a chance to think she was anything else. Everyone only wanted her to be something so monstrous, so she decided she would act like it. There was no way for her to go on as anything else and each death she was responsible for was further acceptance to it.

"I can't start over," Blake said and wondered why her words didn't seem as certain to her as they should be. She began spouting more to assure herself that she couldn't, her voice rising higher to drown out anything that would point to the contrary. She had been doomed from the start and nothing would've changed, especially not now. "I'm a monster! All those people are dead because of me! They begged me to spare them but I killed them anyway without a second's thought! All of them had better reasons to live than me but they're dead and I was the one who did it!"

If she hadn't, someone else would've. Maybe Adam or maybe some other faunus like her who would've been turned into a scapegoat in her stead. All those people were already dead, having done something to cross the White Fang's path. She just happened to be the weapon that was hanging from the wall to administer it. That was all that she was.

Yang was standing frozen where she was, watching with wide eyes but unable to comprehend just what she had done. Becoming aware of her presence again, Blake rounded on her. "I almost killed you! I was the one who stabbed you! You were the one who almost died!"

Broken out of her trance at being confronted, Yang immediately started, "It was an accident! I know you didn't mean to-"

"And what would you know!?" Blake snapped, the reminder of everything she did making all what Yang said nothing but nonsense. "So what if it was an accident or not!? That doesn't mean anything! It never did! You would've been dead and that would've been it! You would've ended up as another dead human and I would've gone on to dump more right on top of you!"

What did Yang know? She was as ignorant as the rest. She had no right to insinuate that Blake could start over when she experienced none of what the faunus had gone through! She hadn't been the subject of all that hate or all those expectations that had been placed on her to become something she didn't want to be! She hadn't been forced to balance her life with those of others who were already dead, the choice having been so easy to make when looked upon like that. That was all that this world was about and to say anything to the contrary was absurd.

It was then that Blake remembered that she had a way to truly introduce Yang to what the world was like. She pulled out her scroll, activating it before furiously stabbing her finger upon the screen as she opened up the selection of photos.

"You want to know what it's like?" Blake seethed vehemently. "You want to know how indecent this world is? You want to experience some of what I've gone through?" She cocked her arm back and threw the scroll at Yang. "Then here! This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

It bounced against Yang's chest and she awkwardly caught it before it could fall to the ground. She didn't look at it immediately, her shocked gaze remaining on Blake. She glanced down at the screen, then up at Blake again, and then finally focused back on the screen.

Blake waited, the anger she felt towards Yang placated by the anticipation of how she was about to get a taste of what Blake had gone through. It was the human's fault for making such a ridiculous claim and Blake had never hated her as she did right now for uttering such blatant lies.

Lies that were attempting to fool her into thinking that if she had just held on a little longer and hadn't given in to the demands of others, there could've been someplace for her after all.

She wanted this to be over with. As soon as it was done, she would return to Vale, return to the White Fang, and she would go back to doing what she had been meant to and always will do.

But first, she wanted to watch.

And she did. Once Yang saw the image that filled the screen, Blake watched as the recognition and disbelief at seeing it flew to her face. She gripped the scroll with both hands in order to bring it closer and get a better look to prove that what she was seeing was real. That hope from before rose up again.

Then Yang started swiping through the others that Blake had taken and the faunus predicted what would happen next. The next image came up, Yang's finger freezing to let her take it all in. Then she swiped again and her finger froze for far longer upon sighting the third image.

Recognition had given way to make room for that growing hope and the disbelief began to wane as Yang realized that what she was seeing was all real. By the time she got to the third image, her eyes flicking about to take all that it offered, a sudden stillness came to her features. After a few seconds she blinked and Blake saw the change immediately, the disbelief returning.

There were more and there was hesitation when Yang moved on to the fourth image. Then the fifth. Then the sixth.

There was an increasingly slowness to her swiping and the examinations that Yang made were losing their enthusiasm. As she went through them, more details were disclosed to her and a realization was being made. The even swiping motions of her finger were becoming erratic as she moved it left, then right. She was no longer looking at the pictures in order but skipping and going back to double-check to make sure she wasn't seeing things. That hope transformed; when just a moment ago Yang had been hoping that these images were real, Blake could see the opposite occur as she was now hoping they weren't.

"This can't be right…"

The agent's ears perked up, barely catching the near-silent proclamation of incredulity. Yang had that stare that Blake knew: seeing but not seeing. She hardly blinked and her finger was moving in a half-conscious way as it sluggishly slid at random intervals along the scroll.

"It's her," Yang breathed out. "But if she's there then that would mean…"

The scroll dropped from a hand that had lost its grip but was still raised. Yang maintained that unseeing gaze, staring directly at her gloved palm as if examining something else within the threads.

Blake remained where she was, still watching. She had half a mind to turn and leave Yang as she was as it was quite clear that the damage had been done but she didn't. She stayed rooted in place, even when the silence stretched between them; morphing from seconds to a full minute.

"I looked for her for so long."

The mask continued to hide Blake's features. That and her stance made her appear almost as nothing more than a statue that was entirely impassive when Yang mustered up her next quiet words. The subtle rise of her chin could've been passed off as nothing but, had the mask not been there, the blinking of Blake's eyes would've been far more noticeable as they remained focused at Yang's face, watching intently.

Yang didn't seem to register Blake or anything of the outside world, lost in recollection. "After I learned about her, I always wondered why she abandoned me. I asked anyone who knew anything about her and used whatever clues I could to find her. I looked long and hard, and I almost…my sister and I…" The blonde actually sank to her knees and was once again staring at the scroll, it having shut off when she dropped it.

"Just…all of that," she continued, looking lost and barely audible. "I went through all of that for her and…that's what she's been doing this whole time? After all I did…"

She trembled and Blake saw her teeth gritting as she bent forward, eyes squeezed shut. Her hands were clenched at her sides, making the faunus wonder if she was going to lash out at anything around her. When she opened her eyes again, it was to reveal that they had shifted to their red coloring that practically glowed within the surrounding darkness.

"All of that was just a waste?"

Blake sucked an involuntary breath, the words much too similar to the ones that she had thought to herself. There came a knee-jerk reaction when Yang fell back onto her rear, the agent barely reeling herself in from taking a step towards the human. Yang was still trembling and her hands suddenly shot to her mouth.

That was when Blake saw the sparks. One slipped between Yang's fingers before she covered her mouth and even when sealed she could still see the unstable flashing of bright orange beneath her hands.

For all the time they've fought against each other, everything that Blake had learned about Yang's Semblance concerned the external. External attacks that were inflicted upon her by an external enemy which she then collected and used to strike back. External pain to inflict external damage.

Only now, when another burst of embers left Yang's mouth and illuminated the space beneath her digits, did it dawn on Blake about the possibility of the reverse: internal pain. The kind that came from having your own hopes and dreams crushed underfoot by reality. The rage and despair at the revelation that was unfolded before your eyes, that everything you once believed in was a lie all along. Throwing out blame to anyone or anything did little to appease it as, in the end, the only one who was really to blame was yourself for having been so foolish to put yourself in that position to begin with.

And since it was pain that Yang had inflicted upon herself, her Semblance was reacting in the only way it knew how.

Yang suddenly heaved, looking as if she was about to throw up but the brief loosening of her fingers showed a small jet of flame that she coughed out. Blake was watching it all in silence but behind her lenses her eyes were growing wider in horror, her jaw hanging free as she remembered the blaze that she had witnessed and what she had caused and what had burned away everything she had once knew and believed in, leaving nothing in this shell that was easily molded into what she was now.

As another stream of smoke and fire left Yang's mouth, Blake found herself looking upon the hints of another that she ignited. One that was now choking and eating away at Yang and one that even she couldn't take as she coughed and heaved, her cries in between small but desperate.

I did this, Blake thought with growing fright. I wanted this. What have I done?

The next exhalation of flames came with something else. Steam rose from Yang's face, the source being the tears that had fallen from her eyes but were quickly being evaporated. No relief or aid, only the heat that was consuming her.

No, not like this. Not like this and not Yang!

Blake was moving before she could even consider what may happen with her next action. She crossed the distance between them, Yang barely aware of the faunus's approach and only able to give her a glance before Blake drew her fist back and punched her right in the face.

Her knuckles connected solidly with Yang's cheek and turned her head to the side, the blow almost enough to topple her over completely. Her hands flew away from her mouth, releasing one last jet of fire, but another didn't immediately come to replace it. That was the intention: to give Yang someone else to focus on.

It worked too well. Yang remained with her head turned aside for only a few seconds before it was whipping back around to the forefront, her eyes still devoured in molten fury that she directed at Blake. "You!"

Before Blake could react she was lifted off her feet and her back was slamming hard against the bark of a tree, air rushing out of her. An attempt to recollect some of it was cut off when Yang's hands closed around her throat. Blake's own shot up to grab Yang's wrists but her strength was nothing compared to the brawler's. Her feet kicked out, held a good foot from the ground but it was doing her no good. Her Aura was holding but she could feel it giving way beneath Yang's grip as she sought to strangle her or, perhaps, crush her neck outright.

"Yang…no…!" Blake managed to wheeze out. "Don't-!" She was cut off when Yang further tightened her grip, leaving her to do nothing but vainly attempt to collect what little oxygen she could.

Don't do this.

Yang was immune to her struggles in every sense of it. Blake's kicks and pulls against her wrists – growing more feeble with each passing second – did little to ease her hold. The pleas that had been cut off and the look of desperation failed to break through the fury that had Yang glaring up at Blake, lips twisted in a quiet snarl.

She can't see. Her lungs were already burning and blackness was beginning to creep into her vision. She had stopped kicking and her own hands were beginning to loosen. One fell away and dropped back to her side but the other she kept up and then lifted even further to her own face. She wanted Yang to see…

She managed to grab her mask just as there was almost nothing left of her vision except for those burning red eyes that glared up at her. Those eyes that she had once loved being at the receiving end of. Those orbs that held such power but it was power that was focused and tempered. Now they radiated such senseless rage and were seeing nothing but a subject of hate that was staring back at with empty lenses and limited features. With only moments left until she was given to the void, Blake pulled it off.

The Grimm mask that she and every other faunus of the White Fang wore did a good job of making them appear as the monsters that humanity made them out to be. It hid their eyes and every other form of expression that was centered at their face. This included the tears that fell like a flood down Blake's cheeks, the covering worn tight enough to her head that it had collected and hid every drop that had fallen as soon as she realized just what it was she had done to Yang.

She immediately began regaining the air she needed when the grip around her neck loosened. She slumped against the tree, aware that she was back on her feet when her legs nearly failed at keeping her up. She coughed, reflexively massaging her neck and wondering how bruised it'll be. She looked up to Yang.

Those red eyes had receded and were replaced with subdued lilacs which looked to Blake with shock. They shifted to the hands that had just been in the middle of strangling her, open and empty of that crushing strength.

Blake noted the quiet whimpering and assumed that it was Yang who was responsible. It was only when Yang focused back on her and Blake's first swipe at the tears at her face proved to be a futile attempt to clear them that it dawned on her that between the sniffling and her gasps of breath she was in fact making such tiny, pathetic cries that were normally unfit for someone like her.

It was what had her meeting Yang's astonished gaze as she silently pleaded, Don't turn into something like me.

She saw the realization hit Yang as to what it was that she had been about to do. Appalled with herself and face increasingly pale, the Huntress took a step away from Blake which was followed up by another, seemingly about to flee.

Seized with a sudden, irrational impulse, Blake lunged forward, catching Yang in a frantic embrace. The blonde staggered and tried to keep herself from falling and it was the maintaining of her balance that became the opportunity that Blake needed for their lips to collide together. Within her grip, she could feel how Yang stiffened and then struggled against the hold while muffled squeaks and other sounds beat against Blake's lips.

The faunus was knocked back against the tree a second time although in this instance Yang's hands were at her wrists, keeping hers pinned to the sides of her head once she managed to free herself. The human herself didn't seem to know how she should feel, staring at Blake as a maelstrom of emotions raged across her features, most of them belonging to such nature as surprise, confusion, and bewilderment, but there was still the remnants of that previous anger that Yang wasn't sure if she should be feeling or not in the wake of Blake's unexpected move along with offence. Blood trickled down from her lip, the unexpected kiss having been delivered so roughly that Yang had accidentally bit it.

It wasn't black. The rivulet of blood that went from lip to chin was a normal red and Blake was relieved to see it and could even taste the hot, metallic tang at her own. Yang's tongue reflexively licked up some of it, the girl still looking incredulous.

Much like when she hit her, Blake was trying to mitigate what damage she could. She knew of the vortex of uncertainty that Yang must be going through; a daunting revelation that had turned her entire world upside down followed by nearly committing an act she would've never forgiven herself for. Blake had been there, although the difference was that she had gone all the way. There had been no one there to stop her, only others who had assisted pushing her over the edge and had her falling the long, hard journey down.

There were probably people back at Beacon who Yang could turn to. She could turn her back on Blake, go back to the school, and her own loved ones could help restore her to what she was now that Blake had taken care of the worst of it.

But right now, Blake just wanted to be selfish. She wanted to remain just a bit longer and offer all that she could so long as Yang would have her.

She could see Yang debating on it. As she remained against the tree, giving no word or struggle, it allowed Yang to comprehend what it was that Blake was trying to say with how she firmly stared at her.

In the end, Yang decided to be selfish too.

Blake detected her giving in the moment before their lips were coming together again. She was still unprepared for it for, while her kiss had been hard and sloppy, Yang's viciously plundered her lips. It took Blake's breath away, rough lips sealed with her own before an insistent tongue pushed through in order to mingle with hers. Rubbing up and down, exploring, brushing over her slightly sharper canines; the friction sent electricity tingling down her body.

Blake wasn't freed from Yang's grasp and the weak tugging of her hands which were held down by the brawler's iron grip told her that that wasn't going to change either. She nonetheless arched her body up against her, unable to hold back a sudden moan at the brief brushings with Yang's sturdier form as the kiss went on.

They parted for only moments, Blake gasping for an entirely different reason while her cheeks were flooded with heat and color, then Yang was coming back in order to drain the air back out of her. With it was an ebbing of her other sense as they became flooded with everything that was Yang. There was the rough skin of her lips, her taste that Blake sampled both from the warm blood that remained and their tongues that dueled for dominance with the faunus losing. Her untainted scent overwhelmed Blake's sense of smell, the sweet fragrance of lilies that was so at odds with her usual coating of expended Burn Dust catching her off guard and further debilitating her already muddled sensibilities.

Her usually exceptional vision was oddly blurred so Blake didn't bother with it, instead closing them and becoming lost in these sensations. She could feel the curls of Yang's hair brushing against her closed lids and heated cheeks, taunting her with touch and another sampling of her scent. How she wanted to reach out and grab those tresses and anything that her hands could grasp but she couldn't even budge them. It was during another renewed tugging that Blake realized that her hands had been moved in the midst of her intoxication, having been placed together above her head so that Yang could use one hand to keep them locked together.

The other was allowed to do what Blake wanted but was denied. Fingers passed through her ebony hair, brushing against her cat ears, but when there came another break from their kiss, they swiftly tugged a handful of hair that had Blake wincing and tilting her head, leaving her neck exposed and all for Yang to explore with her lips as they passed over the bruising skin, the sweet touches making Blake grow dizzy no matter how many breaths she took before she was being kissed again.

That hand continued exploring, running down and caressing her cheek before sliding along the curve of her body, pausing at her hip and then making its way back up. It came close but nowhere near enough to alleviate the ache that was becoming more and more prominent at Blake's core.

The faunus was no virgin and the confidence that was carried with Yang's touch told Blake that the human probably wasn't either. Yet she found herself exceptionally vulnerable to Yang's ministrations because it was Yang who was doing this to her. The human she was supposed to hate but was now locked in a union that was not only forbidden but she believed to be impossible. It was Yang that was keeping her arms shackled together with her formidable strength, Yang that had lips and tongue so enmeshed with her own, and it was Yang's palm that went to her chest and squeezed her breast through her uniform, the cry that resulted effectively smothered.

So when Yang did choose to alleviate that ache by pressing her knee between Blake's legs, it didn't take long for the agent to fall over the edge as she was already teetering. Her leggings soaked up what dampness got through her underwear but did nothing to blunt the motion against her clit. That knee lifted her up until she was on her toes and Blake instinctively rolled her hips, increasing the friction just enough…

She whined into Yang as she came, hips now jerking to ride out the pleasure that blanketed her mind and vision in white.

When she came to her senses, it was to discover her looking to the ground, her body momentarily limp and Yang being the only one keeping her up. She had retracted her leg and the hand that gripped Blake's wrists only did so to keep her on her feet as the agent's legs were currently trembling while she panted for breath.

The confidence that Yang had earlier was gone when Blake finally raised her head. With the break that settled over them, some of the frustration having been relieved, a measure of rational thought returned to take away Yang's resolve as she examined the flushed and panting Blake, beginning to look regretful at what she did.

It was that and her weakened grasp that allowed Blake to seize a thumb and twist it.

Yang yelped in pain as Blake used the control she exerted with the thumb lock to twist her arm behind her back, the faunus following with it so that she was standing behind her as well. She went to Gambol Shroud but gripped the trailing ribbon instead of the hilt, bringing it forward to wind two loops around the wrist she kept immobilized when she added another nudge of pressure, earning another shout from Yang.

The Huntress struck back with her other arm, blindly swinging it behind her in a bid to hit Blake. Instead, it became just as restrained when Blake blocked and wrapped the ribbon around it, tying her hands together.

She did it just in time. Once she completed the last loop, there came the brief shifting and winding of gears as Ember Celica sought to activate. Unfortunately, the bracelets didn't get far before they strained against Gambol Shroud's ribbon which kept them from forming. They were as bound as their owner.

A kick behind her leg and a forceful shove had Yang falling to the ground, landing on her tied limbs. A second later and Blake was straddling her and this time Gambol Shroud was in hand, the blade high with tip pointed down towards Yang who froze upon seeing it. Slowly, she looked from the blade to the faunus, her brows lowering so that she was glowering up at her.

Blake's eyes had similarly narrowed until they were dangerous slits as she examined her quarry. Her arms pinned behind her, her blonde hair spread out underneath her, but even then she was staring up challengingly at Blake. In combination with the silver light of the hanging moon highlighting some of her features…

Beautiful. This was the Yang she knew and loved best. Tossing Gambol Shroud aside, Blake grabbed Yang's jacket and pulled her up, their mouths crashing together once again.

This time it was Blake who was in control and she was going to make the most of it. She eased Yang back down and followed, laying herself on top of her while the blonde got over her initial surprise and began reciprocating. Blake's breasts pressed into the larger, supple mounds that were Yang's, the only barrier between them being their clothes. She immediately sought to correct it, unzipping Yang's jacket and pushing it open as far as it could go with her bound limbs.

She let her fingers trail along Yang's ribs during the journey to that yellow top and Blake experienced a sense of satisfaction at the quivering she detected. Beneath the smooth skin, she could make out the hardened muscles that made Yang such a strong, formidable opponent but was currently at Blake's mercy.

Just as her fingers slipped beneath the edge of Yang's top, they touched on an abnormality and one that had Blake breaking away from Yang so that she could inspect what she already knew she would find when she pulled it up.

It was a scar. Small, thin, and the crooked, diagonal line it made beneath Yang's breast was only a couple inches long.

It had been the closest Blake had ever come to killing Yang. During a night of a particular intense duel, Blake had broken through Yang's Aura and Gambol Shroud had stabbed through flesh and muscle before piercing her liver, resulting in the black blood that haunted Blake to this day.

It was only the fact that she was such an exceptionally strong woman and emergency vehicles having already been practically on site that allowed Yang to live. Well, that and a certain red-cloaked reaper that had arrived to witness the near-fatal blow having been struck. That same reaper who immediately assaulted Blake, swinging that scythe in wide, chaotic swings in a mad attempt to strike down the White Fang assassin.

It was after one such swing that the hood fell back, revealing the face of a young girl with tears streaming down her cheeks, features contorted with rage and grief which tainted her screams as she attacked Blake.

Yang had mentioned a leader, but not a sister. Blake learned a lot that night, the most valuable lesson having been that the human was not as invincible as she always appeared to be. Yang had weaknesses, she could break like any normal person, and that night she nearly met her end. She recovered and when they met again she tossed Blake the sword which the faunus had left in her before getting into a fighting stance, that and the grin being the only thing Blake needed to understand that she wanted to continue with what they had.

But it was never the same again. Everything had changed after that. Blake made it a point to hardly ever wear her mask in Yang's presence, never wanting her to look upon it as she did when Blake had stabbed her. With that mask came those troubling thoughts that had Blake thinking beyond their battles. It had awakened a desire to be seen as Blake Belladonna again rather than a White Fang killer which she was now only realizing. To be someone who could care and be cared for like Yang who had friends and a sister who would defend and kill for her. And it was Yang who she believed could help her accomplish that.

Although Yang had never brought it up again, Blake wondered if the near-death experience held some influence when Yang had nearly strangled her. She was hit with a potent sense of remorse that had her lips touching tenderly along the length of the scar.

"Blake."

Her ears twitched up and Blake looked up.

"It's okay," Yang assured, smiling gently.

That night, she had almost killed the only person who understood her and Blake's heart twisted in the wake of that smile that she could've never seen again. To take her mind off it, Blake pushed the rest of Yang's top up, her tongue running up from the bottom of her breast to the tip where she bit a stiffened nipple.

The action caused Yang to gasp and arch beneath her. "B-Blake!"

A shudder went down Blake's spine at hearing her name spoken like that. That was it. That was what she needed; to be referred to with such want. To be important to someone.

Her tongue flicked along where she just bit, her hands finally being given free reign as the cupped and kneaded those breasts, the malleable flesh working like clay in her hands. Yang squirmed beneath her, arms straining against their bindings, but she was totally and completely Blake's, the idea of which caused Blake's thighs to twitch. Later. Right now, it was Yang's turn.

While her mouth continued to nip and lick at Yang's breasts, her hands made their journey down, fingertips gliding along that smooth skin and once again Blake took immense satisfaction with how each part that she touched twitched and quivered beneath her fingertips. Her stomach Blake gave particular attention to, her nails scratching lightly at the chiseled muscles which sucked in in response.

The faunus had built up a fine sheen of saliva that caused those breasts to glisten when she finally pulled away in order to give Yang another kiss, interrupting those quiet moans that constantly left her mouth. By then she had reached Yang's shorts, blindly fumbling with the button before unzipping them.

Yang barely seemed aware with what was about to come. When Blake inspected her face, it was to see it completely flushed, the blonde panting while her eyes were clouded with lust. The usually mighty and infallible warrior reduced to this had Blake swallowing hard.

It was time to give Yang her just desserts. Blake moved down, giving herself minor detours to lavish last minute attention to Yang's breasts and lick along her navel. Below, her fingers unbuckled Yang's belt and skirt before hooking beneath the blonde's shorts and panties in order to pull them down her legs and toss them both aside, leaving her in her boots.

The scent of Yang's arousal hitting Blake's nostrils sent the faunus's head swimming when she lowered enough to take a deep inhale of it. Rational thought flying out the window, all that Blake was left with was that primal, instinctive desire to please the one she loved. Arms hooking around Yang's thighs, she spread them wide, her fingers peeling open those lower lips, and then she was giving them a long, slow lick.

Yang bucked against her but Blake was prepared, arms tightening to keep her down while her tongue swept along the moist slit, causing the blonde to shout and curse. It urged Blake on, her tongue diving as far as it could go before worming around inside of her.

"B-Blake!" the blonde sputtered, her name breaking through the moans and screams. "Blake, Blake!"

It was when Blake rolled her thumb along the sensitive bud that was her clit that Yang came undone. The frantic rolling of Yang's hips suddenly stopped, the blonde's entire body seizing, then she was keening as she shook and bucked erratically, her walls constricting around the intruding muscle. The sweet fluids of Yang's orgasm coated Blake's tongue, the faunus giving no second thought to lick what she could as she drew out Yang's pleasure.

Eventually Yang stilled which Blake took as a sign to pull away. The Huntress was resting against the ground, her bared chest heaving with her sharp inhales while she recovered; a state that had once only came after their duels but, in this instance, Blake experienced a special sense of accomplishment with the methods she used for this.

While Yang caught her breath, Blake untied her. Once freed, Yang's arms laid limp at her sides, making Blake wonder if she really was out of it.

That was when one lilac eye opened, staring right at Blake, and the faunus caught the mischief dancing within the second before she was suddenly knocked onto the ground, Yang's hands planted at either side of her in order to lift herself above her. Grinning down at Blake, Yang questioned, "You didn't really think it was over, did you?"

At first Blake could only blink incredulously up at Yang. Then, slowly, a similar grin crept upon her face. "Honestly, I was hoping it wasn't."

A different kind of battle ensued that night but, as always, they went all out on each other. After tearing Blake free of her uniform and that black lace underwear, the faunus found her back once again pressed against a rough bark. Without her clothes and Gambol Shroud, it scratched painfully at her back but Blake hardly cared, more concerned with the two fingers that drove into her core with hard, deep thrusts. A third followed and Blake clung tightly to Yang, nails making their own scratches into the blonde's back while sharpened teeth bit deep into her shoulder to muffle her scream as she came again.

Yang eventually got her turn to get a thorough taste of Blake, her breasts pressing down on Blake's stomach while she licked and buried her tongue into her sex. Meanwhile, Blake was getting a second helping as she returned the favor.

The end came within Yang's embrace, something that Blake was more than happy for. Leaning back against Yang's front, Blake was once again subjected to the other girl's fingers which curled and corkscrewed as far as they would go. While Yang lightly kissed the bruises along her neck – her own silent but heartfelt apologies for harming Blake -, her other hand delicately rubbed and scratched Blake's cat ears.

Such gentle but loving affection was enough to bring Blake to her last climax. She collapsed against Yang, completely spent, and the Huntress understood. Yang encircled her arms protectively around Blake, drawing her close, and she retrieved the largest article of their discarded clothes to throw over the both of them to use as an improvised blanket.

It was none other than the long, white tunic of Blake's uniform. Exhausted she may be, Blake was still able to catch the symbol of the White Fang: the red and vicious wolf head, complete with the claw marks.

So what did this all mean? Considering what had just occurred, nothing was going back to normal after this. Obviously she was going to be missing her flight but, even if she wasn't, Blake no longer felt any compulsion to follow the White Fang anymore. Then again, she couldn't say she had ever felt truly compelled to follow that cause for a while now.

It had simply been all that was left for her. It had become an organization of killers and she herself was such. There was no changing that. Many had died by her hands, the blood on her so thick that she could never hope to wash it off. Even if she dedicated the rest of her life into making amends for what she had done, there was no way she could possibly replace the lives that she had ended, even if the ones she will try to save for the years to come would vastly outnumber them.

Whether she would find true redemption or remain condemned due to her sins no longer mattered to her either. As she nuzzled against Yang, burying her face into the crook of her neck, she decided that just having a place to be at the side of the only person who truly understood her was enough for her. To be at Yang's side, to see for herself this love and understanding actually exist, that was more than enough for her.

That was something that she would die for. But, finally, she now had something that she also wanted to live and experience for as long as she could.

Author's Note: Alright, there it is! A White Fang Blake who nonetheless ends up finding love and creating one of our favorite RWBY OTPs! Again, not really sure how I feel about this chapter – and, really, this entire AU – as it holds a lot of firsts and new things that I wanted to experiment with. This is where the reviewers judge and I decide to either stick with something, improve it, or just cut off from doing something ever again based on their opinions. Hope you at least found minor amusement and I hopefully didn't fail to hard with the sex and-

Brain: YOU DID WHAT!?

….Oooooooh shi-

Brain: WHAT THE HELL IS THIS CRAP!? Mental breakdowns and strangulation leading to the frickity-frackity!?

Uh…..

Brain: THIS IS WHAT YOU DO WHEN I'M NOT AROUND!?

Woah, hey. You actually suggested the smutz!

Brain: THAT WAS A JOKE! I didn't think you'd actually be stupid enough to do it! Oh gawd, what have you done!? Alright, that's it; we're taking a break from the Bumblebumz! Next project, we're actually gonna use…you know…ME for stuff! So enjoy your birthday tomorrow because after that we've got to reestablish our credibility with smart things!

…*sigh* Fiiiiinnnnne…