SXD: A Schnee and a Dragon Go to the Movies (Patreon)

Vale

Weiss wasn’t sure why things always had to get complicated. A movie date with Issei should have been simple. A normal, casual outing. No missions. No Grimm. No ridiculous powers. No sudden catastrophes that left her dignity in pieces. Just a dark room, a screen, and two people sitting next to each other like a perfectly ordinary couple.

And yet, somehow, she was sitting in the theater, already regretting everything. The lobby of the cinema had been loud and chaotic, full of students and families and the kind of excited chatter that made Weiss feel like she’d stepped into a different world. Bright posters lined the walls, flashing previews played above the ticket counter, and the smell was full of popcorn, butter, fried snacks and soda.

Issei’s eyes had practically lit up the moment they walked in. Weiss had caught the way his gaze darted left and right. She wondered what was going on in his head.

“Weiss!” Issei had said, pointing like a child spotting a carnival ride. “Look! They have an extra-large popcorn bucket!”

Weiss didn’t even turn her head at first. She already knew exactly what she’d see, some absurd container meant to feed an entire squad of Huntsmen.

“You do not need that much popcorn,” She said flatly.

“But—” Issei tried to argue, lips already forming whatever nonsense justification he believed would work.

“No,” Weiss cut in, voice sharp enough to slice steel. She planted her foot down. “Absolutely not.”

Issei stared at her.

Weiss stared right back, unblinking.

A silent battle began.

Issei’s expression shifted rapidly, shock, disbelief, wounded pride, then a slow tilt into pleading. “But it’s movie tradition, Weiss.”

Weiss crossed her arms. “No, Issei. ‘Movie tradition’ is sitting down and watching the film. Not purchasing enough popcorn to supply Vale for a week.”

He looked personally offended. “It’s extra-large for a reason!”

“And that reason is to extract money from people with no impulse control,” she snapped.

Issei opened his mouth.

Weiss lifted a finger.

He closed it.

His shoulders slumped. “...You’re really serious.”

“Yes.”

He muttered under his breath, “My dreams are dying.”

Weiss huffed, turning her attention back to the snack counter. “Just get a medium.”

“A medium…” Issei repeated like she’d asked him to drink from a puddle. “Weiss, that’s barely any popcorn.”

“That is the correct amount of popcorn.”

“There is no correct amount of popcorn.”

Weiss’s eye twitched. “There is when I’m the one sharing it.”

He perked up instantly. “Oh! So you are sharing with me?”

Weiss froze for half a second, caught by her own words and then recovered with practiced grace. “I’m not letting you inhale it like a starving Beowolf,” she said stiffly. “So yes. By necessity.”

Issei grinned like he’d won a tournament. “Weiss is sharing popcorn with me. Wow. This is huge.”

“It’s popcorn, Issei.” Weiss regretted everything.

It had only gotten worse when he started grabbing more items.

“Okay, popcorn,” Issei said, nodding to himself as if making a tactical plan. “Then—two sodas.”

Weiss leaned in. “One soda.”

Issei blinked. “But I get thirsty.”

“You get greedy. One soda.”

“But the cups are small.”

“They are not small.”

He squinted at them. “They’re small.”

Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘I am going to develop wrinkles early.’

“And candy,” Issei continued, already pointing. “We need candy.”

“We do not need candy.”

“Yes we do,” he insisted. “Candy completes the experience.”

Weiss glared. “Issei.”

He paused, then slowly lowered his hand like a child caught stealing. “…Fine,” he muttered. Then, under his breath again, “This is oppression.”

Weiss shot him a look that promised consequences.

Issei immediately brightened and leaned close, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Okay, okay. What if we compromise?”

Weiss narrowed her eyes. “There will be no compromising.”

He smiled wider. “I get the medium popcorn… and you get to pick the candy.”

Weiss hesitated. It was a trap. It was absolutely a trap. But, there was something oddly… sweet about him wanting her to choose. He wasn’t pushing because he wanted to annoy her. He was just… excited. Happy. Like this was a big deal.

And Weiss, despite herself, was a little happy too. ‘No,’ She thought stubbornly. ‘He doesn’t get to make me soft with puppy eyes.’

“We are not getting candy,” she said firmly.

Issei’s face fell.

Weiss’s heart did something stupid—something warm. …Damn it.

“…One,” she relented, voice clipped. “We can get one.”

Issei’s head snapped up. “Really?!”

“One,” Weiss repeated, pointing like a warning. “And if you even think about grabbing a second—”

“I won’t!” He said too quickly causing Weiss to stare and Issei to cough. “I mean… I really won’t.”

“We’re getting nothing,” Weiss deadpanned.

“No—wait—Weiss, I’m kidding!”

She sighed, rolling her eyes as she stepped closer to the display. Her gaze scanned the options: chocolate bars, sour gummies, hard candies, ridiculous neon-colored snacks that looked like they belonged in a Dust shop.

Issei watched her like this was a sacred ritual.

Weiss grabbed a simple chocolate bar and placed it on the counter.

Issei looked shocked. “That’s it?”

Weiss lifted her chin. “Yes. That is all.”

“It’s boring.”

“It’s fine.”

Issei leaned in, whispering like a criminal. “Weiss. Live a little.”

Weiss’s eyes narrowed. “Issei. Behave a little.”

He stared at her, then suddenly smiled, soft and genuine. “You’re cute when you’re strict.”

Weiss immediately turned red.

“I am not cute,” She hissed, snatching the bag of snacks and turning toward the theater hallway. “Stop saying things like that in public!”

Issei jogged after her, laughing. “But it’s true!”

—-----------------------------

Five minutes later.

They slid into their seats right as the previews were starting, the theater dim and cool, the air thick with butter and sugar and that faint static hum from the speakers. The screen flickered with bright trailers, casting shifting light over the rows of people settling in.

And there, in the seat beside her, was Issei, practically glowing with smug victory, holding an extra-large popcorn bucket  like a proud accomplishment. Not only that. He had multiple pieces of candy.

Weiss stared at him with a glare, her expression so sharp it could’ve cut glass. “You are the worst,” She sneered.

Issei grinned, completely unbothered, giving her that infuriatingly iconic boyish smile, the one that had no right to be as disarming as it was. “And yet,” He said, leaning back like a man at peace with the world, “you still date me.”

Weiss huffed and turned away before he could see the warmth creeping up her face. ‘He’s too smug and shameless. Why am I like this?’ She told herself, only irritated because he’d disobeyed her instructions.

That was it. Absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she was too easy on him as he looked ridiculously pleased, like a kid who’d just gotten away with stealing cookies.

The lights dimmed further, and the chatter around them softened into murmurs. The previews ended and the screen went black.

Then the studio logo flashed and the movie began.

For a while… everything was fine.

It was a simple sci-fi action flick, overdramatic music, sleek spaceships, dramatic close-ups of serious people staring into the middle distance. It was engaging in that mindless way Weiss could actually appreciate. No politics. No board meetings. No training schedules. Just explosions and laser fire and predictable heroism.

Weiss felt herself relax, her shoulders finally lowering. She even leaned back, letting herself sink into the seat.

But Issei then started whispering beside her, already leaning forward with his elbows on his knees like he was analyzing a combat briefing, “but why would he split up? That’s just asking to get ambushed.”

Weiss’s eyelid twitched. She didn’t look at him, she kept her eyes on the screen. “Issei—”

“I’m just saying,” He continued in a stage whisper that was not actually quiet, “if you’re in an alien ship with unknown hostiles, you do not go into the hallway alone. Rookie mistake.”

Weiss inhaled slowly through her nose.

On-screen, the protagonist walked alone into a dark corridor.

Issei leaned in even closer, tone smug. “He’s about to get jumped. Watch.”

Weiss whispered without turning her head, “Issei, please.”

A beat later, the protagonist got ambushed by a creature dropping from the ceiling.

“Oh, called it!” Issei whispered triumphantly, fist lightly pumping the air.

Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose and tried not to make a sound. ‘You are in public, Weiss. You are a Schnee. You will not commit murder in a cinema.’

Ruby would be proud of her restraint. Yang would call it “character growth.” And Blake would quietly approve.

Issei would not understand the danger he was in.

The scene continued with fights, lasers, heroic one-liners. Weiss tried to focus. She truly did. She even caught herself enjoying a particularly well-choreographed sequence where the heroine flipped over a railing and shot a drone midair.

And then the lead actress appeared on screen.

There was a dramatic slow-motion entrance. Wind in her hair. A confident smirk. The kind of cinematic framing designed to make the audience go woooah.

Issei went completely still.

Weiss felt it immediately, the tension in his shoulders, the sudden silence from a man who had not been silent since they walked in.

Her spine stiffened. She didn’t even need to look at him to know his eyes had widened.

“…Weiss,” Issei whispered.

Weiss stared at the screen, expression blank. “No.”

“But—”

“No,” she repeated, colder.

“Weiss—”

“I swear,” she hissed under her breath without moving her lips, “if you say anything perverted, I will freeze you to the seat.”

Issei’s mouth snapped shut so fast it was practically audible.

He swallowed and sat perfectly still.

Weiss felt a small, smug satisfaction. ‘Good.’

For five seconds, peace returned.

Then CRUNCH. The loudest, most obnoxious popcorn crunch ever produced by man. It echoed in the quiet moment of the movie like a gunshot.

Someone in front of them paused mid-sip of soda.

Two heads in the row ahead turned slightly.

Weiss’s body went still. Slowly, so slowly, it was like a horror movie, she turned her head.

Issei was frozen halfway through a mouthful of popcorn, cheeks puffed slightly, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

He looked guilty and terrified. He looked like a man realizing, too late, that he had made a fatal error.

The people in the row ahead glanced back with the universal expression of please don’t be like this.

Weiss stared at him. Her gaze narrowed to a point. “Chew,” She whispered, “quieter.”

Issei nodded so fast his head almost blurred. His eyes were huge. He chewed like he was defusing a bomb—slow, careful, silent, each bite an act of survival.

Weiss turned back to the screen with rigid dignity. ‘I will endure this. I have fought Grimm. I have endured my father's schemes. I can endure Issei’s popcorn.’ She had barely finished that thought when he slowly slid the popcorn bucket toward her like an offering to appease a vengeful deity.

Weiss stared at it. Then at him.

He mouthed: sorry.

Weiss rolled her eyes, then, with exaggerated annoyance, took exactly one piece.

Issei exhaled in relief like she had granted him mercy. It was infuriating. It was… also kind of cute. And Weiss hated that her heart did that stupid flutter again.

—----------------------------------------------

By the time the movie ended, Weiss felt like she had survived a war of patience.

The credits rolled. People started to stand and shuffle out, the theater brightening slowly. Issei stretched with a loud yawn, arms raised over his head. “Alright,” he said, satisfied, “that was fun! Even if the main guy was an idiot.”

Weiss stood, smoothing her skirt with practiced grace, eyes half-lidded. “Gee,” she sighed, “I wonder who that reminded me of.”

Issei blinked. Then grinned. “Hey.”

She pointed at him with the kind of precision she used when calling out a mistake in training. “It would have been more enjoyable if you hadn’t been talking the whole time.”

He rubbed the back of his head, sheepish now that the danger had passed. “Yeah… sorry about that. I get, uh, invested.”

Weiss huffed, stepping into the aisle with the crowd. “You never stop being invested.”

“I can’t help it!” he protested lightly. “You saw that scene where the door was clearly trapped and he still opened it like what did he think was gonna happen?”

Weiss made a sound of deep, exhausted disappointment and walked ahead, letting him ramble behind her until they reached the lobby.

The neon lights and chatter hit them again, people discussing the film, laughing, buying more snacks like they’d just arrived rather than leaving. The smell of popcorn was stronger out here, and Weiss watched Issei’s eyes flick toward the counter with dangerous longing.

“We are not doing this again,” she warned immediately.

Issei snapped his gaze forward like an angel caught thinking sinful thoughts. “What? Me? I didn’t even do anything.”

Weiss didn’t respond. She just gave him a look.

Issei raised both hands. “Okay, okay. I’m innocent. Totally innocent.”

They walked out into the cool night air together. Vale’s streets were lit with warm lamps, and the distant ocean breeze carried just enough chill to make Weiss tuck her chin slightly into her scarf.

Issei stretched again, satisfied. “See? We had a normal date. No chaos.”

Weiss scoffed. “You smuggled an extra-large popcorn bucket past my authority.”

“Not my fault you're so easy to convince." He said proudly. 

Weiss opened her mouth to respond, ready to deliver a devastating, perfectly articulated insult and then she felt it.

His fingers brushed against hers. They had held hands hundreds of times by now, at Beacon and in Vale and during missions and in quiet moments where words weren’t needed.

And yet he hesitated and Weiss did too. It was ridiculous. They were together for so long. He’d carried her through the sky. He’d seen her at her weakest and still looked at her like she was something precious. So why did her heart still do that nervous little jump?

Issei’s hand hovered a fraction away, like he was asking permission. Weiss swallowed, then, quietly and deliberately laced her fingers with his.

Issei blinked. Then his expression softened into something so openly happy it made Weiss’s chest tighten. “Hey, Weiss?” He asked, voice quieter now, almost careful.

“…What?” she replied, pretending she didn’t notice how warm her face felt.

He looked at her like she was the best part of the entire night. “Thanks for putting up with me.”

Weiss squeezed his hand just a little, enough to make the point without turning it into a whole thing. “Someone has to,” She said, tone prim and sharp. But when she looked forward again, she realized she was smiling.

Done. Tell me what you think.