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bowl-of-shortness · 3 years

Note

just...bro....homie....my platonic beloved....please....necromancer au first kiss....p l e a s e im on my hands and knees

(Hehehehehehe alright I’ll give the ppl what they want fisnksldkelaldkfksms)

Since when?

It had been a few months since Qrow’s accidental confession and Ozpin’s not so accidental acceptance to go on a date and Qrow was feeling quite happy about where things were going, as well as confident. Ever since the two had started dating, Qrow found himself with new confidence to compliment and flirt with the taller man even further.

This amused the noirett greatly. Ozpin blushed like a tomato anytime he was flirted with or complimented, not being used to it. Qrow found it equally as cute as he did funny.

Ozpin on the other hand, although appreciated it, appreciated it much more when he wasn’t trying to do something. His new partner had found humor in surprising Ozpin with comments at the absolute worst of times just to see how he’d react.

Like today.

Ozpin was peacefully making some breakfast for the two as Oscar was out with Glynda, and was quietly reading a recipe when all of a sudden, “Y’know I’m not sure why you’re so self conscious about your accent.” Ozpin looked over at the noirett and cocked an eyebrow, “I don’t think I follow, Is there something you’re implying about me not liking my accent?” Qrow laughed “Nah, I just think yer accent is hot is all”. Ozpin about dropped the bowl he was holding and turned bright red, trying to stutter out something, anything in Qrow direction.

The silver haired necromancer resulted to returning to his work on breakfast, trying to ignore that gravelly laugh that came from Qrow. “Gods why does he have to be like this...I’m trying to do something, couldn’t he have done it later?” Ozpin thought, frustrated. He did appreciate the compliments but he also wished Qrow would do them at a better time.

Qrow knew how Ozpin felt and it was pure comedy to him. Seeing this normally calm and collected man come unraveled at a simple comment was hilarious to the shorter man. And so he decided to turn it into a little game, how long could he do this to Ozzy, before Ozzy got mad at him? “Seems I’m going to have a world of fun today.”.

It was anything that Ozpin did, Qrow would comment and compliment him on it very forwardly and Ozpin, per usual would blush as red as a tomato and ignore it. But Qrow was having none of it, so he started making it very difficult to ignore him.

Ozpin felt two muscular arms wrap around his waist as he organized the books on the shelf, he stiffened slightly “Hello dear, how may I assist you?” He felt Qrow hum into his back “Eh, no need to assist me, just hugging you. Damn, I guess that sparring pays off huh?” Qrow laughed “WH— BIRDIE!” Ozpin was absolutely red, knowing what Qrow was implying. Even though the silver haired man didn’t look like it, He was decently muscular, something he didn’t like to openly mention. Ozpin tried to ignore him once more but Qrow kept hugging him, “by the brothers you are going to be the death of me.” He grumbled at the noirett.

Qrow pulled away and shrugged slightly, “Eh, you love me.” The taller man turned around and glared down at Qrow “You’re damn lucky I do.”, “Oooooh so serious, I like it~” The shorter man smirked cheekily as Ozpin glared harder in his direction “Ugh” and with that Ozpin walked away. “I’ll get back at him at some point, but I’ll have to plan it.” Ozpin thought, frustrated then a mischievous thought came to the necromancers mind. “Fine. Birdie. You want to play this little game? Let’s see how you react when I bite back. Especially when you aren’t expecting it.” He smiled at the thought.

As Ozpin expected, Qrow kept up his little game of ‘Let’s see how badly I can make Ozpin blush” but the better Ozpin got at ignoring the comments, the more Qrow made it difficult for him to said thing. “I am so sick of this little game. Of all the days for him to get into this mood why did it have to be today?” The silverett thought as he retreated into his office for work, he didn’t like the fact that he had to do work but it was a way to get away from Qrow for just a tiny bit. He wasn’t unappreciative of the compliments but they were a bit exhausting when they were happening all day. He put his head in his hands and took a deep breath.

Knock knock knock.

Oh for the love of—

“Qrow if that’s you I am going to slam the door in your face.”

The door cracked open “Yeesh, I take it you didn’t like the game I’ve been playing with you today~” he gave his usually cocky smirk. Ozpin glared through his hands “No. I didn’t. Because you cause things to be very difficult to get done.”. Qrow’s smile widened, curse that bloody smile “Well yeah, cuz you love me. And you’re absolutely adorable when you blush.” He leaned over Ozpin’s desk, to which Ozpin stood up suddenly and walked around the desk, “So you like surprises like that do you?” The taller man said, leaning over Qrow slightly.

Oh damn. “Very much so.” The noirett chuckled, trying to keep his confidence, “Well, I guess you’ll enjoy this then.” Before Qrow could even react he was met with the silverett kissing him. Oh damn. Ozpin pulled back and gave a confident smile at the smaller man while glaring down at him with green eyes “What’s the matter love? I thought you said you liked surprises? Did you lie to me?”. “N-not at all...I’m, well, surprised for sure...” all confidence Qrow once had has now melted away completely, not expecting Ozpin to be this confident.

“Not so cocky now, are we?” Ozpin leaned down to be at eye level with Qrow, who was avoiding eye contact “S-shut up you dick.” Qrow was absolutely red. “Since when?” The taller man cocked an eyebrow “hm?” “Since when are you this confident?” Qrow questioned almost accusingly, “Since you decided to play this little game with me. Now, shoo, out of my office. I have work to do. And if you’re good and leave me alone for now, you may get more of those kisses later.” Ozpin winked.

Qrow walked out of his partners office and into the living room, where he sat on the couch. He replayed the entire scenario in his head, especially that last part, “Huh, I might have to do that more often. Something about Ozzy being confident is completely different than him being embarrassed.” He smiled to himself. “But for now, I’m gonna sit here and wait till he’s done. Because as hot as that was, that was also slightly terrifying.”

He laid down on the couch and waited, this was going to be a fun week.

#my writing is bad but here you are. Necromancer Ozpin being confident and cocky towards Qrow and Qrow absolutely bluescreening at it.#rwby necromancer au #cloqwork #ozqrow #ozqrow au’s #ozpin #professor ozpin #headmaster ozpin #qrow branwen

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rubyinasnuggie · 4 years

Text

Rosegarden Week Day 2 — Wedding

Something old

“Ohhh, Ruby! You look beautiful!” Yang rushed up to her sister, but was suddenly stopped. She glanced down to see a glyph under her feet, gluing her to the spot. She looked up to see Weiss staring her down with ice-cold eyes.

“Don’t you dare, Yang Xio Long,” Weiss said. “Do you know how long I’ve spent doing her hair?”

“It’s been hours, Yang. Please help me!” Ruby whispered, a mischievous smile on her face.

Weiss rolled her eyes. “Oh shut up. It’s not my fault your hair refuses to curl.”

Blake rolled her eyes with a smile.

Ruby’s eyes drifted to the small box in Yang’s hand. “Did you bring it?” she asked, voice uncharacteristically small.

Yang smiled and held out the box for her.

With shaking hands, Ruby opened the box. Inside, resting on a red velvet cushion, there was a tarnished silver hair pin, with an intricate rose inlaid with rubies and diamonds. The very same pin Summer Rose had worn at her wedding.

“Oh, Ruby,” Weiss whispered, seeing the pin. “It’s lovely.”

“Will it work?” Ruby asked. Her silver eyes were extra sparkly with tears.

“Absolutely.” Weiss carefully took the pin from the box and began to pull hair back to place the pin.

Something new

“Fortunately, this makeup is cry-proof,” Blake said, setting up her deskspace.

Ruby laughed and wiped her eyes. “That’s good.”

As Blake began to brush on makeup, Weiss and Yang worked together to attach the veil. The beautiful thing had been sewn by Kali and Willow. The two mothers had bonded over mutual love of embroidery.

Ruby thought the embellishments were a tad excessive, but she couldn’t deny the end result was gorgeous.

Something borrowed

The moment Nora walked through the door, she had to turn back around to cry. When she finally composed herself, she walked back in, followed by Ren. “I can’t believe little Ruby is getting married! And to cute boy Oz!”

“You look lovely, Ruby,” Ren said. His smile wasn’t wide, but his eyes were sparkling.

“Thank you.”

The constant compliments were starting to make Ruby feel a little anxious. Sensing this, Nora skipped over to her, holding out the red sash. “We tried to repair it as much as we could, it’s still pretty beaten up though.”

“That’s okay,” Ruby replied. “Thank you so much for letting me wear it.”

“It’s the least we could do,” Ren assured her.

“I’m sure Pyrrha would love that you’re wearing it,” Nora said. “Do you want me to help you tie it? Or is that reserved only for the ice queen of honor?”

“If you think you can do it without ruining her dress, be my guest,” Weiss replied. “I’ll fix it afterwards.” There was a slight twinkle in her eye as she said it, and Ruby giggled.

“I’m going to go back to Oscar, if that’s all right,” Ren said.

“Gonna use your semblance on him?” Nora joked.

Ren shook his head. “He’s surprisingly relaxed. I can tell he’s very excited though.”

“Bye Ren!” Blake said, waving.

“See you soon!” Yang called.

Something blue

“What’s that?” Ruby asked, glancing at the small jewels in Weiss’s hands.

Weiss held them out to her, showing a small sapphire, amethyst, and topaz. “The final touches.”

“For Team RWBY?”

“Obviously,” Weiss answered with a smile. “Is that okay?”

“I love it,” Ruby said, beaming.

After placing the three gems in her hair, Weiss stepped back to admire her handiwork. “Well, Miss Ruby Rose, I think you might actually look presentable.”

“You look so perfect!” Yang cried. She just barely shifted her weight before Weiss shot her another glare. “I can’t wait to hug you after the ceremony.”

xxx

Oscar rocked back and forth on his heels, stomach full of butterflies as he waited for his beloved.

Ren and Nora began to walk down the aisle, scattering flowers on either side. Nora beamed at Oscar and winked, acting charismatic as if she hadn’t been sobbing most of the morning. Ren’s expression wasn’t much different than usual, but Oscar could tell he was tearing up.

Next, Penny skipped down the aisle, her eyes literally glowing with excitement. She carried the rings; a golden band set with an emerald for Ruby, and a silver band set with rubies for Oscar. They each had vines engraved in the metal.

Yang and Blake followed, arm in arm. He noticed how Yang had painted her arm red for the occasion, and he held back a laugh.

Following the bees, Weiss and Jaune emerged. Despite her ridiculous heels, she barely reached his shoulder. Still, they held hands as they walked towards the altar. Weiss and Jaune were maid of honor and best man respectively, which meant the next person to walk would be...

Finally, Ruby emerged, with Tai and Qrow on either side.

Oscar felt his breath whoosh away, just like it had the very first time he saw her. Her hair had been curled and pinned back with a silver rose pin, and loose strands framed her face. Her beautiful eyes shimmered. She was already tearing up. It was only when she suddenly blurred away that he realized he was crying. He let out a breathless laugh. It felt both like the briefest moment and the longest eternity as she walked down the aisle. The rest of the crowd faded away as she drew closer.

The moment their hands intertwined, he could think of nothing else. He was sure he said all the right things, and at some point he successfully put the ring on her finger. But he didn’t really snap back into awareness until he heard the words, “You may now kiss.”

Ruby bounced on her toes and threw her arms around his neck. He looked his arms around her waist and pulled her close, hoping he could communicate the deep well of love he had for her through this kiss. Even if he couldn’t do it with this one, his chest fluttered at the realization he had the rest of their lives to show her how much she meant to him.

xxx

“I bet if we slip off no one will notice,” Oscar whispered. Their reception had been going on for about an hour, and the socializing was clearly taking a toll on his bride.

“I think they might, actually,” Ruby replied with a giggle.

“I mean, it’s our party,” he countered. “We can do whatever we want.”

After considering it for a long moment, Ruby relented and let him lead her outside to the gardens.

They found a huge hammock and curled up in it, letting the wind rock it back and forth.

The shattered moon looked full, and Ruby's eyes reflected the dazzling light.

“Have I ever mentioned how lucky I am to have you?” Oscar asked.

“No, never. Wait, do you like me or something?”

“Or something.” He leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss. “You know, after the whole… Ozpin thing, I was worried this may never happen. I thought it’d be too weird to ever marry, considering I was sharing my body with an ancient man.”

“I know,” she whispered. “Do you ever miss him?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “Part of me wishes he could have been here to see this. He was always rooting for me. He… obviously knew I liked you from day one.” He nudged her playfully. “And I bet he would’ve been impressed with how much better a dancer you are.”

“I think he’s proud of both of us,” she said, looking up at the constellations. As if to confirm it, the alpha star of the Ozma constellation twinkled. She smiled.

Oscar nestled his head into her shoulder. “We’re married.”

“We are,” she agreed.

Just as they were leaning in to kiss, voices caught their attention.

“I knew she was going to sneak off!” Yang declared, marching over to the hammock.

“And after all the work I put into planning this party,” Weiss huffed.

Ruby winced.

Her expression softened. “I’m just teasing, you dolt.”

“Mind if we join you?” Jaune asked, grinning.

Ruby and Oscar exchanged a look before smiling.

The groups settled down together in a semi-circle, leaving the married couple in the hammock to keep Ruby’s dress from staining. They talked for a little while, but mostly gazed at the stars. When a group of fireflies danced by, Penny impressed everyone by communicating with them via Morse code.

As Ruby looked around the group, at her family, she felt love well up in her chest all over again. She didn’t think she was going to live to see this day, to have a future of any kind. But she had made it. Oscar squeezes her hand as he laughed at something Nora had said, and her heart fluttered. She looked at her new husband, and she felt certain that her future was bright.

//ring idea credits to @littlemisssquiggles

@rwbyrosegardenweek

#rwby #ruby rose #rosegarden #rosegarden week #oscar pine #rosegarden week 2020 #my art #fanfiction #dab #wedding #wedding fic

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sneezehq · 4 years

Text

Repairs

Two sisters, in the aftermath of the battle at Haven.

This is another fic that I've had in the works for a while, as this idea has been living in my head rent free since I finished watching volume 5. God that season just gave me so many feelings about these two, and I just love these two and their relationship to bits. So yeah, I thought I'd write it down and y'all can check it out. Enjoy!

For all her claims that she’s fine and more worried about the rest of them, Ruby crashes hard after the battle at Haven.

She manages to stay awake long enough to be interviewed by the Mistral police, although she does have to keep stifling the occasional yawn into her hand as she answers their questions. Ruby is barely able to keep her eyes open when she’s handed off to the medical team that was called in, but she reluctantly hangs on to consciousness long enough to get checked out.

As soon as she’s released, Ruby passes out, curling up with her head on Yang’s shoulder and snoring softly. She gets a few concerned looks from Weiss and Blake, but Yang just lets out a loud sigh and runs a hand through her sister’s hair.

They sit like that for a while, as the sun slowly creeps up in the sky, as Weiss is ushered off with a pair of medics and Blake is taken aside by a pair of faunus that Yang assumes are her parents. At one point, Sun is sitting with them—when did he get here? Yang tries to get Ruby to lay down properly, if she’s going to sleep, but her sister had stubbornly insisted that she was totally fine and that she was definitely going to stay awake, before immediately dozing off again.

For all of Qrow’s boasting about knowing everyone and his connections with other huntsmen, it doesn’t spare him (or the rest of them) from extensive questioning by the police about the attack on Haven. By the time they’re all cleared to leave, the sun is firmly in the sky and the day is well into morning.

“Hey, wake up, sleepyhead,” Yang teases, shaking her sister’s shoulder gently. “They’re letting us go.”

“Guh’what?” Ruby mumbles, eloquent as always when she wakes up. She scrubs at her eyes with one hand and brushes her bangs out of her face. It doesn’t do much, as the rest of her hair is a tangled mess. She looks up at Yang, blinking blearily. “Where are we going?”

“Back to the house, silly.” Yang reaches out a hand to help her to her feet. “You awake enough to walk?”

“Of course! I’m totally fine!” Ruby insists petulantly, batting aside the offer of help and clumsily scrambling to her feet. With her hair a tangled mess, flushed cheeks, and sleepy pout, she looks like the five-year-old that Yang used to read stories to. “Let’s go!”

Yang is willing to humor her at first, but after the third time that her sister trips over her own feet and nearly faceplants into the road, she decides that it’s time for her to step in. It takes some cajoling—and some quick rearranging of weapons (because Yang is not walking the whole way back with Crescent Rose jabbing her in the spine, Ruby’s baby or no)—but Ruby eventually gives in. She reluctantly clambers onto Yang’s back, with Nora carrying her beloved sniper-scythe beside them, promising to keep it within Ruby’s line of sight so that she can keep an eye on her weapon.

Despite her vehement protests that she was fine to walk and that she wasn’t even remotely tired anyway, Ruby is out within minutes, her head slumping forward against Yang’s neck. She doesn’t even stir when they arrive back at the house. It’s all too worryingly similar to the comatose state her sister was in after the fall of Beacon, and although Yang tries to banish those darker memories, she can’t help the relieved sigh she breathes when Ruby finally wakes upon being unceremoniously deposited on the floor of their room.

Scowling, Ruby starts to make an unsteady, shambling beeline towards the nearest bed, but she’s stopped by Yang’s hand on her shoulder. “Not yet,” she scolds gently. “Shower first, then sleep.”

Ruby glares at her, looking for all the world like an angry toddler who missed her naptime. “You’re mean.”

“Really hitting me where it hurts, sis.” Yang pats her sister’s shoulder. “Come on, I’ll get you something to eat afterwards. You’ll have weird dreams if you go to bed on an empty stomach.” Ruby pouts, swatting at Yang’s hand, but she reluctantly grabs her things and heads in the direction of the showers.

Heading to the kitchen, Yang quickly decides on sandwiches and fixes a pair of plates, making sure to leave a couple extra out on the counter in case anyone else is hungry. She’s exhausted, and every muscle in her body aches, but she knows from experience that she’ll feel less crappy when she wakes up if she takes a shower and eats something first.

She arrives back at the room to find Ruby fresh from the shower, hair damp and pajamas on, and hands her a plate. Ruby scarfs down the food as if she’s afraid that Yang will take the food away from her.

“How’s your head?” Yang asks when Ruby finally decides to come up for air. The medics had cleared her for a concussion, but she’d still taken a pretty hard hit from Emerald.

Ruby squints at her, grabbing another sandwich. “It hurts,” she mumbles through another mouthful of food.

“Anything else hurting?”

Her sister blinks slowly at her and shrugs, putting her half-finished sandwich down and resting her head on the table. “Everything?” she says finally, sounding more asleep than awake.

Yang nudges her awake before she can fall asleep at the table. “Go lay down in the bed if you’re going to sleep.” She holds out a couple of pain pills. “But first, take these and drink some more water. I’m getting in the shower.”

Ruby rolls her eyes but does as she’s told, downing the pills with a large swallow and stumbling off in the direction of the beds.

Freshly showered and dressed for bed, Yang expects to find her sister passed out for good, probably snoring loudly and drooling on the pillow. To her surprise, she emerges from the bathroom to find her sister watching her, propped up on her side by an elbow. She’s also laying in Yang’s bed.

“I didn’t think that you’d still be awake,” Yang comments, crossing the room and plopping down next to Ruby. “And scoot over, you’re hogging the bed.”

Ruby scoots, and Yang settles in, pulling the covers the covers up to her chin. As soon as she lays down, Ruby is pressed up against her side, tucking her head into the crook of her neck. Yang smiles at the contact, running her fingers through her sister’s soft hair. “So, what are you still doing up?”

Ruby is quiet for so long that Yang starts to wonder if she’s finally dozing off. “You were crying earlier.” Her voice is so quiet that Yang has to strain to hear it.

“Huh?”

“I noticed it earlier, when you came back with the lamp,” Ruby says, stifling a yawn. “Did something happen down in the vault?’

Oh. She hadn’t thought that anyone had noticed. She didn’t think that Qrow noticed, and if he had he hadn’t brough it up. But of course Ruby wouldn’t miss something like that. “I,” she begins, before trailing off. She’d lied to Qrow, earlier, but she can’t quite bring herself to lie to Ruby. “I ran into my mom, down in the vault.”

“Oh,” her sister murmurs. “Wait, did she try to hurt you?” Ruby scrambles to try to sit up, as if expecting Yang to be hiding some grievous injury from her.

Yang stops her with a hand on her arm. “No, no, she didn’t hurt me.” Not physically at least. “If anything, I hurt her. I might have yelled at her when I ran into her.”

“Oh,” Ruby says again. “Good.”

Yang almost does a double take. If she had been drinking something, she definitely would have spit it out. “That’s good?”

“Yeah,” Ruby nods, her chin bumping gently against Yang’s collarbone. “She left you, and I don’t know why she left you, but I know that her leaving hurt you. A lot. It’s not good to keep all that hurt inside you, you know. I heard what you said to Weiss, and I’m sorry that I left you too.”

Speechless, her head spinning (and not just because Ruby is being a massive hypocrite right now), Yang flounders for a moment before responding. “You were right to leave,” she says, although it pains her to admit it. “And you know that you’ve more than made up for that already. I forgave you pretty much the moment you left. You were hurting too, and I took it out on you. That’s not fair, and I’m sorry.” She pauses, brushing some hair out of her face. Ruby makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a sniffle. “But,” she takes a breath. “You know that the same goes for you, right? You can put up a façade all you like but I know that you’re hurting, and you can’t keep hiding it from everyone like this.”

Ruby sniffles again, scrubbing at her face. “I know,” she mumbles, her voice raw. “But I’m scared. Sometimes it feels like if I try to talk about it, I’ll just fall apart. I don’t have time for that.”

“If you fall apart, we’ll all be here to put you back together,” Yang soothes, running her hand up and down Ruby’s shoulder. “You’ve been strong for the rest of us when we were falling apart, so let us return the favor for once.”

“Yang? I’m scared.”

“Me too, Ruby.”

“Y’know, after the fall of Beacon, I don’t remember much,” Ruby says hesitantly. “Once minute I was on top of the tower, and—” she cuts herself off. “And the next I was at home, and everyone was gone. It was—it was really scary.” She takes a deep breath and wipes her eyes again. “I’m scared it’ll happen again. What if I close my eyes and everyone is gone again? I just got you guys back.”

“Well, I know that I’m not going anywhere. When you wake up, I promise I’ll still be here. And I can’t speak for the others, but,” she pauses to wipe her own eyes. “I guarantee you that if you don’t get some sleep Weiss is going to yell at you. She’ll probably yell at you anyway. I’m sure she can find a reason. And Blake,” She takes a deep breath to brace herself. “I don’t think, well I hope, anyway that she didn’t come all this way just to leave again. She said she wasn’t planning on going anywhere, so I guess we’ll have to trust her.”

“You’re right,” Ruby murmurs sleepily. She yawns. “Yang? I’m really tired.”

Yang smiles fondly, pressing a kiss to the top of her sister’s head. “I bet. Get some rest. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

#rwby #yang xiao long #ruby rose #strawberry sunrise #fanfic #hurt/comfort #my writing

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kitkatopinions · 3 years

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Dunno if I'm late but Yang for the character ask?

Alrighty, my (kind of former) girl Yang!

My top three ships for the character

Yang/Weiss is my favorite Yang ship. They look freaking awesome together, they fit well together, they could be healthy as heck, but they could also challenge each other, and the Weiss/Yang moments in volume five were everything. Yang/Mercury, @why-i-hate-rwby-now and I wrote a fic where Mercury was on the road to redemption and these two just had a lot of chemistry and we rolled with it and now I ship these two pretty hard core. Yang/Pyrrha is my third favorite ship for her. This ship doesn’t have very much juice, I just think that if Pyrrha had lived and Yang had gone through her maturing V4 and V5 arc, they could compliment each other pretty well, and they would look just super great together.

My three least favorite ships for the character

Yang/Adam is one big ‘no thanks’ from me. Yang/Ren is also pretty bad to me, because they had no real dynamic for eight seasons, and then Yang pushed him to talk about his feelings and then yelled at him for those feelings and accused him of just trying to push everyone away. And they have so few interactions that it really felt like Yang was yelling at and judging someone she didn’t really know when she had no business pushing him to begin with. And then, Yang/Neon. I thought their fight was annoying, I thought their interactions were annoying, I think if they were together, they’d do nothing but fight. (Honorable mention to Blake/Yang, which I don’t like for a number of reasons and put on my ‘three least favorite ships for Blake,’ but honestly, the relationship isn’t as bad for Yang as it is for Blake, I feel like. I don’t know.)

My biggest criticism for the character

Sometimes the writers literally write her like she isn’t a part of her family. This doesn’t really come into play until season six (mostly,) but honestly, it was so annoying. Referring to Raven continuously as ‘Mom,’ pointing her weapon at Qrow for saying ‘hey,’ running out of a room with a bunch of Apathy ready to pour through a cellar while ignoring the fact that Ruby was still in the room and Qrow was depressed and drinking at the bar, not being involved in Qrow and Ruby talking about Summer, spending most of her screen time with Blake to the point where it feels like she doesn’t really know her other teammates well, her ‘yeah, Ruby,’ line, her apparent lack of care towards Qrow... At least she’s had a bit more with Ruby and has acknowledged Summer as her mom in V8, and even though Neo one hitting her into the void was such a bad moment, at least it proves that she cares a lot about her sister and knows who her mom is. They use Yang’s family connections sparingly, it feels like. Like they want us to forget she’s related to Ruby and Qrow until they want to tug at our heartstrings.

My favorite thing about the character

Not surprising, maybe, but her family connections in the first five seasons is my favorite thing about Yang. I always saw a lot of myself in Yang through her sisterly dynamic with Ruby, how much Yang clearly loved her and how she pushed her to grow and saw her as strong, but was still always trying to help her and protect her when the need arose. Her dynamic with Qrow and with Tai was also great, with one of the best moments in V3 being Qrow assuring her and Ruby they’d go far - if they never stopped growing. I loved watching Yang prioritize Ruby over Raven, I loved watching her tell Raven ‘I’m not here for you’ and ‘don’t talk about my family like that.’ She’s a lot like Qrow and a lot like Tai, while being her own person too. When she meets back up with Ruby, and Ruby starts apologizing for having left her, and Yang just pulls her into a hug and tells her little sister she loves her, that was the best Yang’s been. It was impactful, because Ruby and Yang’s family were always the most important thing to her. As someone who’s family is the most important thing to her, who has struggled with being in a relationship with a partner who didn’t like that fact, as someone with a beloved little sister two years younger than me who I always felt protective of despite knowing she’s capable and strong just like Yang knew that about Ruby... I really missed that. I’m glad we’re seeing more of it in Yang’s relationship with Ruby again, now I just hope they keep that energy and extend it to Qrow.

A headcanon I have about them

I honestly don’t really like the implication that Yang ‘raised Ruby’ by herself while Tai was shut down. That implies that Yang (aged anywhere from four to six) was given all the parental responsibilities for a few years after Summer died at least, which is pretty blatant neglect. I personally headcanon that Tai’s shut down was more temporary, and that Summer had only been dead for at most a month before Yang (six, in my headcanon) went to find Raven with Ruby and almost died, and that when Qrow saved them and brough them home he moved in for a bit and took over as the primary care giver while Tai recovered. Then after Tai had been recovering for a year and a half to two years and he didn’t need Qrow as much anymore, Qrow started doing his ‘flitting in and out of the picture on the regular’ thing. And Yang was given more responsibilities than she arguably should’ve and did take a bit more of a maternal role with Ruby, but didn’t raise her and didn’t grow up neglected herself. Idk, I just like that so much better.

What I would change about them if I was making a re-write

Hmm... I think I’d have Yang’s PTSD and growth get a bit more focus in V4, and then keep it around longer after V6. I’d also have Summer more clearly important to her, being an inspiration for Yang joining the Huntsman academy and being at the forefront of her mind when she learns about all the magic stuff - asking Qrow if she was involved, what she thought of it all, etc. Past that, I’d just put more focus on her relationships with her family in V6 - V8. That’s not to say that Yang starting a romantic relationship is wrong in any way and I’d still keep that (though I’d have her and Weiss start a confirmed romance rather than her and Blake hinting at having a romance,) I’d just make sure it doesn’t take over Yang’s other relationships and make it clear that the most important person to Yang is and always will be her beloved little sister.

What I I think of their character allusion and what (if anything) I would change about it

Yang’s references to Goldilocks are pretty ‘in name only,’ with the gimmicks being her having blonde hair, her fighting some guy in a bear suit in her first yellow trailer, and her ‘just right’ line in V5 when that creep was hitting on her. There’s not usually a lot of character to give to the ‘Goldilocks’ character (who originally was a silver haired old woman,) so I’m not sure exactly how to fix Yang’s allusion. Maybe extending her stay in Raven’s camp, having Raven present it as a home, but Yang doesn’t want it and knows it’s not where she belongs. Kind of like a swapped three bears story where the bears are trying to pressure Goldilocks to stay in their house and she knows none of it is ‘just right.’ Idk, maybe that’s stupid.

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katcadecascade · 4 years

Text

Storybook for the Gods

Fair Game Week: AU/Freeday

God AU

Ao3

They say the gods left to become the stars in the sky.

They say the gods obeyed the Brothers Grimm, agreeing that humanity was a failure.

They say the gods died and their children are doing a horrible job.

Qrow says that everyone should just shut up.

It’s one thing for the world to contain monsters and magic but no. Humanity loves, hates, fears, and respects the new religions the left over gods have made.

The Remnant Gods as they’ve been titled.

Technically demigods as good old Oz would describe but that doesn’t change the fact that the chain of godhood falls onto their shoulders.

Qrow can only speak for Vale’s side of the story, the dominion of the great and powerful Odin where he bestowed powers to his own children as he goes on his own journey for research and wisdom.

But nowadays he goes by Ozpin, the only old god that didn’t abandon the new gods of Remnant.

Qrow can understand why the god changed his name. No one would think a scholarly dressed old man is secretly the god of Vale, wielding a cane and not a spear. Disguises are necessary now that civilizations are slowly rioting against the Remnant Gods.

Tensions are as high as ever what with mortal heroes rising and fighting in the name of their people and not in the name of any of the gods. Qrow can’t blame them, Hell, he was once one of them.

Not anymore ever since Oz saved his life.

If Qrow had to pick a god to owe a life debt with, Odin had to be the best pick of the batch. No way was Qrow going end up in servitude for Horus, that war god has been raging Vacuo’s deserts for centuries. He did hear rumors that Fuji was still a beloved god, distance as she was ever since she chosen a mountain as her vessel.

Another elder god is from the north but no one has heard a peep from him in nearly a millennium.

That is until today.

Qrow is a relatively a new asset of dear old Oz, just shy of having a decade’s worth of experience under his belt as Odin’s black bird. So he wasn’t expecting much when he was flying through a winter coated forest.

The mission for the year is to find this rouge Valkyrie, rumored to be harboring souls away from their designated afterlife. As the crow flew above the dark trees, looking for any sign of the whisky sparkles of souls detaching from their bodies, a sudden cold breeze hit his face and along with it, a scroll.

It’s not often paper mail is delivered this way, nature spirits keep to their selves or to nature gods. Somehow a winter spirit by the chill of it knew who Qrow worked for and on the edge of the rolled paper was a cursive address of ‘To Odin’

Ominous, not quite, suspicious, only to his birdbrain but curious, oh he definitively is.

Flying back to the cottage, miles away from the rest of the forest and small towns still growing, Qrow keeps the letter in his peak, its edges flapping wilding in the cold winds.

As if already aware, Oz is waiting at the doorstep. His arm up as Qrow took his landing with ease.

It took two attempts for the god to nab the paper from the bird having fun playing keep away.

“Very funny Qrow,” Ozpin chided, finally getting the scroll.

As he unrolls it, Qrow hops off and wills his feathers back into skin, a rush of shivers getting his bones into its original shape. He dusts off stray feathers out of his hair, “Got it from the northern winds. Do you know what that means?”

“Nicholas,” he answers, his eyebrows knitting together, “he needs us in Atlas immediately.”

“Wait us?” Qrow peeks over the god’s shoulder and sure enough the letter is asking for Qrow by his title, Muninn.

Now that’s pretty curious. Gods don’t often seek help from other gods of a different dominion. Usually they get it through their own pantheon and even that is a hassle.

Just look at what happened between Thor and Loki.

“A magical shapeshifter isn’t exactly a secret among gods,” Oz explained. “Making two in this new world is even more of a gossip.”

Oh yeah, he didn’t take in account of Huginn’s rogue status. Raven is probably making waves in Mistral right now.

Still though, there are only a handful of people Qrow introduced himself as Muninn. A few of them were Oz’ old friends but also two humans he and Raven befriended.

Last he checked, Taiyang and Summer are on a sea expedition in the Burning Ocean.

Yeah, Qrow decided not to go with them for obvious flaming reasons.

So now he’s pondering over on why the son of Atlas is asking for him and his patron god for a visit.

“We’re taking the express trip right?”

“You’re always so eager for a fast travel.”

“What, do you expect me to flap all the way to Atlas?” Qrow flaps his human limps.

“As amusing as that is, no,” Oz chuckled. He pockets the letter and holds up his cane, “Nicholas needs us now.”

The intricate clockwork mechanism in the cane’s handle winds up and it ticks loudly as a green light pulses between the weapon and its creator’s hands.

As rune circles appeared below their feet, Qrow giddily bounces on his feet.

This was always his favorite part.

A rainbow of colors consumes the god and the shapeshifter and all they can feel is pulsating brightness as their entire beings are flying through the sky.

In a matter of seconds, Qrow and Ozpin find their selves at the foot of a temple built upon the highest mountain of the northern lands.

Only the oldest of gods know of this place ever since the real Olympus was tarnished when their namesakes left. The ruins of Olympus only had one resident, a power older than most gods.

The last son of Atlas has the power of a titian but its strength is a mere tale since the old man rarely leaves the mountain peak. Qrow may not know the reasons but it must be similar to Oz’ own lifestyle.

Elder gods have increasingly become isolated from the world, leaving the Remnant gods with all the pleasures and pains of warding over humans. It’s a hassle really, getting devoted to or smiting usurpers or whatever. Again, Qrow can’t relate since his god chose to live in a cottage in the middle of nowhere.

This lonely damaged temple is Nicholas’ choice and honestly it is a nice view.

Ignoring the Olympians’ rumble, there is a grand stone staircase that curves into the mountainside, covered in chilly fog as it dives down. Beyond that is the view of the tundra of Mantle, a white slate with dots of cities.

Qrow is very tempted to go free falling into the clouds, feel the wind rush at him as his heart races. He can picture it now, falling as a human only to shift into feathers right as the world is nearing.

“It’s not the time for that Muninn,” Oz lectured, lightly whacking his cane at Qrow’s leg.

Muninn, he’s only referred to that title when they have company.

Tearing his gaze away from the clouds, the thrill of flying, Qrow looks at the only temple left standing.

Walking out of the temple of Atlas’ son are two men.

The tall one of black hair is easily recognized by his lighting blue eyes. James, the son of Zeus and is also a major stick in the ass according to Qrow.

“It’s good to see you, Odin,” James greeted but his tone is always so grim and serious. His eyes narrow at Qrow, “Why did you bring your pet?”

“Hey, I got invited by name,” Qrow huffed, straightening his back to have some sense of pride. It still doesn’t compare to James’ height but it’s the intention that counts.

Qrow doesn’t care if James is a demigod turned Remnant God, he can still match his speed no matter the wind pressure. Hell, James is not the only god to question Qrow’s power as a former mortal.

Speaking of mortals, Qrow notices the second guy, someone he distinctly recalls meeting at the piers of Midpass, “Wait, hold up, you’re that boat guy.”

A chuck passes through pink lips, lightening up his teal eyes, “That’s not my official title but yeah, that’s me.” The brunet holds his hand out, “I’m Clover, son of Poseidon.”

“Yep,” Qrow shakes his hand, “boat guy for sure.”

From the humble smile and adorable cheeks, Qrow innocently mistook this guy as mortal. He didn’t elude power like James or Oz and instead just came off as a regular fisherman.

A cute one at that since Qrow, day drinking with his friends, threw a bunch of flirts at Clover.

That’s probably why he didn’t clue in the fact that Clover suddenly appeared before them right as Summer and Tai were boat shopping for their expedition.

“I knew you were a pretty bird but I didn’t think you’d be the Muninn as well,” Clover winked.

“I’m just full of surprises,” Qrow shrugged off, “something Jimmy here can attest to.”

James grumbles, “Let’s go inside already, Nicholas has waited enough.”

Due to pride alone, James walks ahead with Ozpin at his side.

Clover follows with Qrow, as if he’s more interesting than an ancient Greek temple, “So you’re really Muninn? That’s amazing, there are so many stories about you and you’ve only been a god for a decade or so.”

“Technically I’m not a god,” he corrected before James could but in, “I just serve under Odin.”

“Not all the time right? I thought you’d be traveling with your friends.”

“Nope,” he popped, looking around the temple’s interior.

It’s all white pillars and high ceilings. The place has typical fancy architecture that scholars would die for even if there are some dust and dirt here or there.

Qrow continues, “If I went with them then their ride would definitely fall off the ends of the world or fall into the river Styx.”

“What does that mean?”

He ignores the concern from Clover as they enter the last room. It’s set up as an altar room where a stage is under a skylight. On the stage is Nicholas, the son of Atlas, and a pale woman with white, shimmering hair.

“Welcome all of you,” Nicholas nods with a sad smile, “I and Fria thank you all for coming.”

“Nicholas, is something wrong?” James immediately asks, the room dipping a few degrees colder, “This is about the storms in the west yes? I knew there is something coming from the horizon, I can feel it and-“

A heavy laugh stops the lightning god. Nicholas’ smile grows just a bit, “You focus too much on bad news, James.”

“Someone has to,” James side glances at Clover.

He shrugs, grinning innocently, “I just think you purposely give yourself dark clouds.”

“That was one time, Clover.”

“Yeah and it nearly flooded Athens.”

Qrow has twin instincts to laugh at James but also be terrified at the casual mention of how he almost flooded a populated city. These gods and their temper tantrums really are ridiculous, even more so if humanity suffers from it.

Oz taps down his cane, gaining everyone’s attention, “So why are we here, Nicholas?” His eyes shifted to Fria, “Although I’m starting to understand.”

The woman beams and suddenly a veil of frost coat her hair as she grasps Nicholas’ big hands. Her own hands are small and decorated with frostbite but their held hands brings a warm feeling to the room.

“We’re getting married,” Fria announces, a loving gaze on her fiancé as they nudge closer together, “but we want something more than that.”

“We plan to start a family,” Nicholas explains and now the tension in the room is back as the guests realized just who these parents-to-be are.

A child between these two would have the lineage of a titan, a being far superior to a god, and, from the looks of it, a winter spirit.

Qrow recognizes Fria now, her winter powers eluding off of her effortlessly. It is that same breeze that found him and that coldness still clung to him as he stares at the faery.

“That’s too dangerous,” James warns with a thunder in his core.

Clover grounds his cousin with a steady hand on his arm, “They know that and,” teal eyes trace over to Oz, “you asked for Odin to do something about this right?”

The wise god of Vale steps onto the stage, looking wearier than Qrow has ever seen him.

“You’re both giving up your godhood,” the old man said.

“We want to be human,” Nicholas corrects.

Qrow blinks, “Oh.”

That’s something he has never expected to hear. A titan and a faery want to become human to protect their future child from infinite power and consequences.

For Qrow he gave up his humanity to protect himself, well that’s what he claimed after Raven left him. He believed that working for Ozpin would further help humanity or so he hopes.

Muninn built up a name as an omen to malice but Qrow recently sees he’s a harbinger as well. Maybe it was the powers or some part of Qrow that amplified the moment he swore oath to Odin. There has been a trail of bad luck following him.

His only solution is to stray away from humanity, protect them from a distance as Oz has done.

Now before him are two ancient beings deciding to give up their powers and live in a world where humans are slowly thinking for their selves, where the gods are no longer their priority. Instead their priorities are their families.

That is what Nicholas and Fria want.

Oz nods gravely, “Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Wait what?” Clover questioned.

“Of course,” James bitterly concludes, “If Odin can grant power to mortals,” he gestures to Qrow and then James nervously gulps, “then he could do the reverse for his fellow gods.”

Okay, from that perspective that sounds terrifying, Qrow thinks, but this is Ozpin they’re talking about. The old man has spent eons making mistakes with humans and gods and other magical beings but has chosen to repeat for it all.

For some reason Qrow is one of the first things Ozpin saves and for that Qrow trusts him forever.

“I’m not that great and powerful,” Oz assures, smiling kindly at James.

James does the quietest relieved sighs.

“Or am I?” Oz notes humorously.

An angry noise comes out of James, his shocked and fearful face making Qrow laugh out loud.

Ozpin returns the conversation back to the couple, “I can do it but your powers will have to go somewhere because I for sure won’t take it for my own.”

“We thought of that,” Fria nods. “The sky is a fitting place to place winter and strength into it. I’m going ahead and naming it an aurora, after my mother.”

“It’ll be lovely,” Nicholas agrees and then the couple turns to Qrow, “and there’s one last thing too.”

With everyone’s attention on Qrow, he has the sudden need to fly away before something awkward or unfortunate happens, “Um, hi?”

“You’re Muninn, the Bird of Memory,” he announces and since Qrow blinks and points at himself, still confused, the son of Atlas clarifies, “We want to forget our godhood. You can take them away.”

“What?” He, Clover, and James practically yell.

“He can do that?” James baulks.

“You can do that?” Clover awes.

“I can do that?” Qrow nearly chokes on his spit.

Oz, helpful as he is, only shrugged, “Well that is a theory now.”

“Please,” Fria begs, walking over to the shapeshifter. Snowflakes trail behind her as she reaches Qrow and takes his hands into her cold ones, “We’re tired of this eternity we wait in and once we become humans we can actually start living.”

Her eyes look just like that tundra their temple views over, cold and clean and goes on for miles filled with emptiness. Fria barely reaches Qrow’s shoulders but there is an ancient power in her being that makes Qrow shiver.

It would be a mistake to think of her as human with the snow on top of her robes and how her hair is literally a mist of frost. Yet the gentle slope of her face reminds Qrow so much of his tribal Chief. Both lived a long life and now they want rest.

“I’ll do my best,” Qrow says, his voice barely trembling at this promise.

The winter spirit’s smile warms up the room, “Thank you, Muninn.”

The ceremony gets started immediately because gods can be impatient like that.

At the stage area, Ozpin stands as the holy figure before the couple, their hands held together. James and Clover stand on the side of Atlas’ son. The two were chosen to be here today because Nicholas trusts them to take care of their people.

Qrow is on Fria’s side of the stage and he still feels out of place. They only need him for his powers which aren’t news to him. Nearly everyone Qrow meets wants to use him for one purpose or another. But this is for a good cause, he remembers himself as he watches the couple share tender looks and words.

Their vows are of the typical stuff that happens in weddings, promises to love each other and all that jazz. Qrow quietly chokes up when they promise to die in each other’s arms.

The concept of death is different between gods and humans. If a god dies… well actually Qrow doesn’t know. Gods just become nothing, absolutely nothing but dust.

For humans, Qrow once wondered where he’ll go because the gods of death had different rules and jurisdictions and he doesn’t want to learn any of that since he’s pretty immortal at this point.

Nicholas and Fria finish their vows and Ozpin wraps it up.

With a tap of his cane, a brilliant light captures the room and if Qrow squints his eyes he can barely see how the colors are moving around Nicholas and Fria.

The light dims and with it, the chill of the temple disappears from the temple. Fria has pinkness in her cheeks and she buries her warm hands into her husband’s white hair. Nicholas himself looks almost bigger now that there is no more weight on his shoulders, a cursed pain that haunts his bloodline.

Human, Qrow realizes and accepts.

All of the colors are swirling above their heads, blues and pinks and purples dancing together until Oz sends it up high, passing through the open ceiling and to the dark sky above. The colors blanket the night and its stars.

They all stand witness to the first ever aurora borealis.

“Muninn,” Oz commands and waves him over to stand in his place.

Right, moment of truth, he thinks as he is presented to the newly wedded and human couple. Even without their magic, their eyes are still old and weary.

Not thinking, Qrow carefully presses the tips of his fingers on their foreheads.

As far as Qrow knows, Muninn can do two things: turn into a bird and kick ass.

He doesn’t quite know where the memory association came from but then again other gods can say the same thing with their gimmicks.

It can be through sheer luck or coincidence or fate that led Qrow to this moment.

Memory is not a title Qrow thought he would bare and yet here he stands, feeling something tingle into his bones as a light glows from Nicholas’ and Fria’s foreheads. Energy flows from them and into Qrow and it starts to do more than buzz his bones.

He can’t breathe as images are passing behind his eyes.

It’s the old world full of magic that no human could ever imagine where nearly everyone is a demigod and nature spirits thrived without fear of pollution. The world has colors Qrow didn’t think existed and now it lives on through his head, an honor and a chain.

Qrow blinks away new tears as the two ancient beings give up their lives to finally get some peace in their souls.

It is all over before he knows it. They wanted to forget everything from their godhood so Qrow tries his best as promised. He leaves things in there, the knowledge of old friends and the joys and grief shared.

Fria will know how she felt when she first felt summer, how Nicholas brought her a literal ball of heat. Nicholas will know how light he felt the first time Fria made him laugh, a rusty thing in his lifetime. They will both know how they fell in love, when the sun kissed the sky as they held each other in their arms as eternity passed them by.

Lastly it is this moment, the details of the other gods will be vague but their hope and relief that this is finally happening will stay with them until their dying day.

Qrow lets go, his face wet and heart beating achingly slow. While his eyes are blurry he sees how young Fria’s and Nicholas’ eyes are.

The couple blinks slowly but their smiles are wide, like they know what happened but he doubts that, he just took away their memories.

Ozpin and James handle their retirement plans, something about sending them to Athens where Pietro, the son of Athena, will smooth out the details.

“Are you okay?” Oz asks and steads a hand on Qrow’s trembling arm.

He tries to speak but his tongue is heavy. His whole body shivers with the weight of winter’s rage. Qrow bites his lip harshly, snapping himself back into stillness. He manages to get out, “I’m good.”

Oz frowns at the lie but doesn’t argue. Instead he walks over to Nicholas, Fria, and James where he readies his spell and a rainbow flies them away.

“Qrow,” Clover warns with great concern but he waves him off.

“I feel fine,” Qrow says before he collapses.

The son of Poseidon catches him easily, his muscles proving its worth.

Muninn is known for his elegance and raw power. Black wings hold the winds of old and can cut through the toughest of stones. Right now that warrior is a twitching, gasping mess who’s clinging tightly to the only person grounding him.

“Qrow, hey, look at me,” Clover carefully guides a hand through black hair, making their eyes meet. He rearranges their bodies, complexly supporting Qrow’s weight to cradle the shapeshifter in his arms.

Two lifetimes are running around in the bird’s head, too much energy with no outlet and they are literally squeezing Qrow’s own memories into a peanut shell.

Wow, Qrow really should have thought this plan through but he didn’t want to ruin two gods’ wedding day. He’s not that much of an asshole. That and he didn’t want to be smited.

Too bad his brain is occupied with tearing itself apart to even think of a resolution. He has two brain cells and they don’t belong here.

Literally, Qrow sees nothing but never melting snow that is casted upon men and beasts alike simply because they wandered into territory of the winter faeries.

Another memory takes the reins, this time Qrow is crushed with the weight of the sky as Nicholas attempts to save his father from eternal punishment.

It didn’t work. Nicholas stood numbly as Atlas’ body dispersed into atoms at the moment the moon shattered, thus starting a territory war between the sky gods.

Now that’s a story Qrow never thought he’d learn, it would be really cool if he learned this in a less painful, mind aching, way.

“Hey breathe with me,” a warm hand is pressed to his collarbone, heating the skin as Qrow’s heartbeat flutters.

With lungs on fire, Qrow barely registers the rawness in his throat.

Has he been screaming? The wails of agony from the grieving son of Atlas rings between Qrow’s eardrums.

It hurts so much, an intense drumbeat in not only his brain but the rest of his flesh and blood and he just wants it to stop.

But gods don’t get that luxury do they?

Humans can live and die and rest while gods just keep on going and going until infinity yells at them to catch up already.

Somewhere in the raptures, Qrow questions why exactly he gave up his own mortality.

“Qrow, I need you to focus on me,” a blurry figure begs and closes the inches between them.

Their foreheads meet and despite the bright light returning, all Qrow can see are teal eyes.

Burning sea salt takes over all sense of smell as well as the sudden loud crash of waves at the portside. The little sea village in Midpass suffers from near endless heat due to the enchanting fire that rides the seafoam.

Qrow’s sight of that ocean is torn away as a familiar, gruff laughter catches his attention.

On the wooden pier are other fisherman but three visitors are out of place. It is mind boggling and an out of body experience to see Summer and Tai walk around with a Qrow joking with them.

This was a month ago and yet this version of Qrow appears years younger, cracking a wirily smile at Tai as Summer throws a mock punch his way.

He can’t recall what he teased them about because this isn’t Qrow’s memory, it’s Clover’s.

When the trio is passing by, Summer voices her desire to on a sea voyage. Tai, being logical for once, points out that they don’t have a ship.

That’s when the son of Poseidon heeds this call, friendly introducing himself as an expert boatman or seller or whatever because Qrow, both present and past, is not paying attention to the dialogue.

Past Qrow is ogling the sheer amount of muscles the fisherman has while Muninn, the ghost of the future, feels everything Clover felt.

It starts with piqued interest in the trio, all eluding different personalities and loud friendship but the dark haired man is who really catches Clover’s eye.

As a god of the sea, water orientated powers comes to mind. So it feels kind of out of place to sense a person’s luck scale.

Maybe Clover got the luck thing from his other parent, that’s not uncommon considering a lot of Remnant Gods have multiple heritages.

Anyway, only a god with this type of power can see how bad luck just reeks off of Qrow and finding this out is really ticking Qrow off.

He knew it. He knew that he’s nothing but a bad luck charm. Qrow was right in his argument with Summer that he shouldn’t tag along. He didn’t to be the reason his friends drowned or burned to death.

A new feeling takes over. Its strong warmth pushes aside the misery inside the black bird. This fast heartbeat, breath leaving lungs, it all happened when teal eyes met red.

“So you’re an expert boat guy, huh?” Qrow had said with a bit of slur. The drinks in this town were rumored to be a High John favorite and he wanted to taste. The results ended up being this flirt and wink, “I just so happen to love seamen.”

“Oh my fucking gods, Qrow,” Tai seethed.

Summer and Clover are busy laughing, a breathless energy making Clover feel lighter than air as he blushes furiously. With each laugh, the ocean rumbles, something Qrow did not notice before.

“I am so honored to hear that,” Clover returned a blinding smile once the urge to barrel over laughing is settled.

“He’s better at this I swear,” Summer giggled, “Well actually no, he can be terrible at this too.”

“Brat,” hissed Qrow.

“No, no,” Clover shook his head with a grin, “I think you’re doing just fine.”

“You sir are one in a million,” Tai rolls his eyes.

“Huh, in that case, lucky you,” Clover winked to Qrow.

In that tipsy state of mind, Qrow beamed, practically preening at being called the opposite of what usual mocks him day in and day out.

That’s when Clover’s emotions shift a bit. There is flustered wonderment at seeing Qrow just simply smiling like this is the happiest moment in his life.

A sudden need to see more of that smile bursts in Clover, a selfless urge to be the reason Qrow smiles or at least keep this man in the world a little longer than death will plan.

Clover’s bundle of positively is conflicting with Qrow’s confusion on the matter. It’s a bit flattering to witness this but it is also a bombardment of sensations he doesn’t know how to unpack.

The fleeting images of Qrow and Clover in that perfect sunlight fades away. The world returns to the nightlight temple, the aurora coloring the sky.

Qrow ever so slowly leans away from Clover just enough to have their noses brush up.

“What was that?” He asks.

With the couple’s memories, he felt drained but with Clover, he honestly feels better.

“I don’t know,” Clover admits, a blush setting on his cheeks, “I just wanted to stop your pain.”

Well it worked as his head feels less heavy. It’s somewhere in him still, the knowledge he took away from Nicholas and Fria. As for Clover’s memory, it probably wasn’t stolen at least that’s what he guesses.

“I didn’t,” a sudden horror is in his head, Qrow needs to check, “do you still remember how we met?”

“Of course,” Clover assures and he rubs his hands up and down Qrow’s arms.

“Cool, um what was all of that?” He swallows down the saliva building up in his mouth, “All of those feelings and stuff?”

Teal eyes go wide and his cheeks equally turn red, “Oh you would feel that too, um. It’s just my first impression of you.”

“…If this is about the seaman thing, I really could’ve said something better.”

A laugh surprises him as Clover’s chest shakes with each rumble, “It was one of the best pickup lines I have ever heard.”

“Okay that has to be a lie.”

“No really,” he shook his head, “You really impressed me.”

Scoffing, Qrow shifts out of Clover’s arm despite liking how it felt to be encircled by them, “Now I know you’re a liar.” He scuffles over to sit at the edge of the stage. Leaning back, Qrow rolls his neck to stare straight up at the skylight, “So that’s an aurora.”

The demigod takes a seat next to him, “It’s their last gift to the world.”

“Is it for the gods or humans?” Qrow asks. The memories of the gods have lulled itself to sleep in his head but flickers of a beautiful world with a full moon catches his breath.

Maybe they missed their old world and they wanted to put a bit of it back into reality.

“Well, why did you become a power?”

He snapped his head to the demigod, not at all seeing the connection.

Clover actually lays his back down, his arm crossed behind his head to watch the sky. He continues, “Was it for Odin or for something else?”

Only close friends of his know the reason. He and Raven were considered heirs for their Chieftain but after a tragic monster attack they lost most of their tribe. Ozpin was there to save those who remained and as their tradition, the twins owed him a life dept.

They unknowingly pled servitude to a hidden elder god, just their luck.

All Oz wanted was some company so Qrow easily agreed and traveled with him while Raven took care of their tribe. Along the way the god later revealed his true power and granted the twins immortality for their loyalties.

They became Muninn and Huginn, the Black Birds of Odin.

But Raven saw it all differently, not at first but gradually she grew to despise how Oz just isolated himself from the world. He could’ve saved the tribe before disaster struck.

Qrow had many disagreements with his sister but this was the pinnacle fight that changed everything. He picked Ozpin over the tribe that forced him to kill another kid to have a place in their brutal community.

To him, both gods and humans are alike through bloodshed and harshness and bitterness.

It didn’t matter to Qrow if he just ended up living a hundred years longer than fate planned. He wanted to get away from everyone, something he believed Ozpin once felt until they started taking initiative on saving other towns from monsters and chaotic magic.

“I used to think it was all for humanity, the good parts of it,” Qrow answered, “but seeing Fria and Nicholas, well, I didn’t think gods needed saving.”

He looks down at Clover, still gazing at the stars. Just like the first time they met, Qrow doesn’t see anything god-like in him, aside from the arms but his point still stands.

Curiosity takes over as Qrow asks, “Clover, would you ever do what they did?”

“I never thought to consider it until today,” he said, his voice soft and yet Qrow’s complete focus is on it. “Maybe if I met the right person,” Clover trails off and then teal eyes meet red again.

The memory of the ocean is at the edges of Qrow’s vision, enrapturing how stunning Clover looked in simple fisherman grab. That’s not something he’ll admit out loud, the amount of pockets are ridiculous.

Clover is undeniably handsome but he looks so human too, something that Qrow once was. The echoes of the demigod’s feelings mix in with his own, that sense of amazement at how utter goodness radiates off of him.

They may have met only twice so far and yet what is time compared to the immortals?

That and the single memories starts to bleed more than Qrow imaged. He felt Clover’s love for the ocean, its smell and feeling in his soul. How Clover was so charmed by Summer and Tai, instantly admiring their tenacity and enthusiasm for exploring.

The world looked different in Clover’s eyes. The same thing is said about Qrow.

In the memory, Qrow looked almost enchanting and not sleep deprived as he is normally. It’s weird to see himself look so human when he never appeared as joyful until he left the tribe.

Clover sits back up, “Qrow, I think you’re lovely.” He blinks at the sudden compliment and usually he won’t believe it but the glimpse in Clover’s head is convincing. “Meeting you just feels right to me, like it wasn’t just fate or luck that gave me the chance to see you again.”

His teal eyes are searching desperately for a reaction, any indication that risking his heart out will have a good outcome.

Qrow doesn’t know where this will lead, not at all as he drops a hand over Clover’s.

Not a lot can be said about the son of Poseidon, just lore and sea stories, but when he met the not-quite mortal Qrow was equally intrigued and wanting to get more of this fisherman.

He denied Summer’s teasing that it was a crush but now that he suddenly got invited to a wedding with Clover, finding out there’s more to his godhood and how kind he is, Qrow finds himself feeling very human.

Too long he spent his immortality alone, abandoned by Raven and Ozpin still keeping secrets. Summer and Tai were a drastic improvement in his life and now here he is, presented with something new and raw.

“Well,” Qrow settles, weaving their fingers together, “we have the rest of eternity to figure this thing out between us.”

#fair game week #fair game #fairgameweek2020 #qrow branwen #clover ebi #ozpin #my fic

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captain-rennie · 4 years

Text

Fair Game Week Day 2: Date/Domestic

Read it on Ao3 here!

Summary:

He wanted to spend every morning like this with his husband, and judging by the fond kiss Clover pressed to the top of his head, said husband was in agreement.

warnings: just married men bein cute (and a few suggestive flirts)

It was supposed to be date night. Their schedules were cleared, their suits pressed, and Qrow was halfway through gelling his hair back when the meteorologist's voice flooded their bedroom and connected bathroom.

"It seems the blizzard that was supposed to hit tomorrow has come early - expect snowfall within the next hour, and it will be building fast. We recommend nobody leave their homes at this time, and if you're out and about, head home immediately. Conditions are about to become hazardous and scroll service may suffer - "

"Just our luck," Qrow joked feebly, shoulders slumping, as Clover turned down the volume and joined his husband in the bathroom. Warm hands settled on his waist, then slid around his front to wrap around him, and Qrow leaned back into the embrace as Clover rested his chin on his shoulder.

"Just our luck," Clover agreed, his tone much lighter than his partner's. He turned his face into Qrow's neck, nuzzling sweetly. "Looks like I'll be getting my movie night after all. I was looking forward to seeing you in a tie, though."

Unable to help himself, Qrow quirked an eyebrow and asked, "Just the tie?"

"How very scandalous of you," Clover hummed, not sounding very scandalized at all. He pressed a kiss to his husband's shoulder, then backed away and returned to the bedroom. "It's a lovely thought, but let's backdate that to sometime when it's not subzero out there."

"It's a date," Qrow said, and Clover's answering laugh was enough to warm him for the entire season.

With their current date canceled, Qrow regrettably went to work washing the wasted product from his hair, and once done towel-drying it he changed from the nice vest and slacks he'd picked out to a large, comfortable green sweater and gray sweatpants. He clambered onto their shared king bed, nestling into Clover's warm side, and relaxed into the embrace as Clover slung an arm over his shoulder and they both watched the newscast.

After a few minutes, though, Clover slipped away and padded out of the bedroom, mentioning warm drinks, and handed Qrow the remote. Already, Qrow felt cold without his presence; it was cold enough now, but it would only grow colder in the next few days, and he was glad for his walking furnace of a husband.

Idly, he switched the screen to a streaming service, and flipped through the movies, none really catching his eye save for one or two he recognized from Clover's excited rambling. Qrow wasn't really the decision-making type. Soon enough, though, Clover returned, delicately balancing two mugs and two plates of something that smelled fantastic on a tray that he carefully set down on his nightstand.

"You are ridiculous," Qrow snorted as he accepted a mug of hot chocolate, of course topped with a tall mountain of whipped cream and sprinkled with cocoa powder to make it look pretty. Clover spared him a glance from the corner of his eye.

"You're wearing my sweater," he pointed out, amused, and Qrow frowned, effectively outed. He handed his husband the remote, who went hunting for something to watch.

"It's comfy," he grumbled, sipping his hot chocolate and licking whipped cream from his upper lip. "Point taken."

Clover sat back down next to him on the bed with a kiss to Qrow's cheek, and took the remote to browse for a good movie. As he did so, Qrow started propping up the pillows to lean back on for optimal movie night viewage, and settled back into them as his husband decided on a movie. Something with two men on the cover, back-to-back, guns blazing. Qrow was not even remotely surprised.

"Food?" he asked as the starting credits began to play, and Clover leaned over to grab a plate and fork.

"I reheated some of the cottage pie from last night." Qrow hummed in appreciation as the food was handed to him. "Careful, it's . . . hot."

Qrow's forkful was already in his mouth, and hot it was. He sucked in a breath, eyes watering, and quickly swallowed down the bite, shaking his head fiercely as his husband laughed at his misfortune. It was his own fault for not listening, but he glared at Clover nonetheless in offense.

"Ow," he complained as Clover's chuckles died down, his chest warming with fondness at that smile even as he pretended to pout.

"I tried to tell you," Clover defended himself, still grinning.

"And I burned my mouth anyway," Qrow relented with a sigh. "I know."

Clover raised his eyebrows in that goofy, flirty way Qrow loved so much, and asked, "Want me to kiss it better?"

Qrow was a fool for Clover's kisses and could never turn them down. Tonight's were tame and sweet, and yet Qrow could never get enough - but after a few Clover pushed lightly at his shoulder with a chuckle.

"Alright, movie's starting."

"Damn. I hoped I could avoid it if I could distract you well enough."

"Nothing can distract me from a good movie!"

"Is that a challenge?"

"A challenge for another night - I really want you to see this one!"

Qrow relented in the face of his husband's cute enthusiasm, and they settled back against the pillows with their food, shoulders touching, to watch the movie.

He did not burn his mouth again, and the movie was actually quite good. A bit generic in plot, but the humor was clever, with Clover lighting up in delight every time it elicited a laugh from Qrow, and to his surprise the two lead men actually wound up in a relationship by the end. The special effects were decently impressive, too. Despite Clover's dozing off two-thirds of the way through, Qrow actually watched it to the end.

Clover always fell asleep early, as the early riser, and it didn't bother Qrow in the slightest. Once the end credits were rolling, he switched to some show they'd watched before on low volume for background noise, and collected their dirty dishes to bring to the sink. He rinsed them out before returning to bed, and fixed the pillows on his side before disturbing his husband with a few light pats to the thigh.

"Time to lay down," he said when Clover gave a vague, tired grumble, and his husband obediently shifted so that Qrow could reorganize the pillows for him. By the time he was laying down, himself, Clover was fast asleep once more.

Qrow leaned over to his nightstand and turned out the lamp, flooding the room in darkness, before nestling under the covers and curling up against his husband in an effort to keep the cold out. As if by instinct, Clover shifted, turning toward Qrow and draping a huge arm over his husband. Clover's breathing was gentle and easy, and Qrow listened to it and matched it with his own until he was sinking into sleep's welcoming embrace, feeling fuzzy and comfortable and content.

Qrow awoke to the sun shining in his eyes and a notably empty bed. He groaned, squirming away from the invasive light and cracking an eye open to see its source.

The curtains were closed, as was the norm, but a small gap left between them allowed just the thinnest ray of light through to harass Qrow and steal his final few beloved hours of sleep. And Clover was out of bed, so he couldn't even complain about it or ask him to fix it. Sighing, Qrow shoved his face into his pillow and inwardly begged for sleep to take him again.

Unfortunately, his rising awareness made way for his senses to awaken one by one, and he registered the lovely smell wafting into the bedroom from, presumably, the kitchen. Seconds after, he caught the sound of Clover singing, quiet enough it wouldn't have awoken Qrow but loud enough for him to pick up on the song. It was something cheerful, some new tune popular at the moment and right up Clover's alley, and with fondness growing in his heart Qrow thought he could lie there and listen to his husband sing forever.

But all good things must be interrupted sometime, and after smell and hearing came touch, reminding Qrow it was freezing. Reluctantly, he started to drag himself out of bed; it was colder away from the covers, but Clover would be warm, and he never minded Qrow clinging to him to leech his heat. The cooking probably made the kitchen nice and toasty, too.

Slipping on some ridiculous pink slippers his nieces had given him the past holiday, he shuffled out into the hall, then the living room. Ever perceptive, Clover's singing stopped, replaced with a cheery call of, "Morning, sunshine!"

Qrow had not yet retained his ability to speak, so he only gave an incoherent, albeit generally friendly, grumble back. He approached the thermostat near the door, upping it a few degrees before heading toward the kitchen. Clover's back was turned to him, but he glanced over his shoulder long enough to greet his husband with a bright smile. Several things were sizzling satisfyingly on the stove.

"Did you touch the thermostat?" Clover asked by way of greeting as Qrow's arms slid around his waist, head thudding softly against his shoulder.

"You sound like Tai," Qrow replied, then yawned. "You're not even a dad."

"Yet," Clover said, and Qrow huffed in quiet amusement.

"Yet," he agreed. "Still too cold."

"I think it's lovely!"

"Easy for you to say. You're hotter than the sun."

"Why, thank you - "

"Oh, shut up."

Clover laughed, that lovely, deep sound that melted Qrow's heart no matter how often he heard it, and Clover turned his head to press a kiss to Qrow's temple. "Plates?"

Obediently (though reluctantly) Qrow stepped away from his personal heater to collect a few plates and forks, and Clover scooped a ridiculous variety of food - sausage, bacon, eggs, hash browns, and even pancakes - onto them. It smelled heavenly, and Qrow's stomach growled loudly, earning a laugh from Clover.

"Why don't you take the food to the couch, and I'll make us some coffee?"

"Please," Qrow sighed, the promise of caffeine one that spoke to his heart, and headed to the living room after a brief, sweet kiss.

He turned on the television after setting the plates on the table, curling up on the couch in wait, and switched over to the news. Most people seemed to be snowed in, including their building. Qrow remembered the thermometer and realized with some satisfaction it had already become much more habitable in their apartment. That was a relief - as much as he loved cuddling his husband, he preferred it to remain recreational, not out of necessity.

Clover joined him soon with a steaming mug, and Qrow took a grateful sip, humming pleasantly at the bitter taste and spreading warmth. Just the right amount of cream and sugar, as always. Clover made a good cup of coffee.

As his husband produced his scroll to call his boss and let him know they'd likely be snowed in for a few days, Qrow nestled comfortably against his side with his food. He didn't mind being stuck inside for a few more days. As important as he felt their work was, this was a totally viable and well-deserved way to spend an impromptu vacation.

He wanted to spend every morning like this with his husband, and judging by the fond kiss Clover pressed to the top of his head, said husband was in agreement.

#fairgameweek2020 #fair game #rwby #clover ebi #qrow branwen

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izaswritings · 4 years

Note

If you're still taking prompts, Ozcar sacrificing themselves while fighting Salem to save Qrow?

AO3 link is here!!

It is luck, and luck alone that saves Oscar—the dying screams of a distant Hunter, and the cold snap of awful, familiar magic in the air. Even before Oz goes cold and terrified in his head, Oscar is already hiding, pressing himself flat against the wall of an alley-way, his breath frozen in his throat, his heart cold and still in his chest. The screams cut off, abrupt— and there is nothing, after that. But they still know it’s her.

Salem, Oz whispers, thin and hollow and dreading, with all they are, and Oscar takes in a deep breath and has to force himself to exhale. “Will she know…?”

In every life. There is grief in Oz’s voice. Rage. The weight of memory presses down on them, hundreds of lives, meeting Salem’s eyes and seeing her face twist in a snarl. Every time. She always knows.

Jinn’s story, Oscar thinks. When the second incarnation and the changed Salem had reunited— they’d known first glance who the other had been, without ever having to say a word. The thing that had once seemed like destiny to the Ozma and Salem of the past has now, apparently, become just yet another tool for Salem to use against them.

Oscar squeezes his eyes shut. The cane is white-knuckled in his hand, and his grip is so tight it aches, the small carved designs in the cane’s handle imprinting on his palm through the gloves. Oh, gods, he thinks. Oh gods.

Oscar. Some of the panic has faded from Oz’s voice; he speaks sharp and steady. We need to run.

Oscar thinks back to their only warning—that Hunter’s dying scream, and gods, it's awful, it's terrible, how frightened must they have been?—and tries to steady himself. “I can fight,” he whispers back, and draws on that bravery, the memory of bravery, the knowledge that if he runs now, someone else will surely suffer in their place. “I can—”

We aren’t strong enough. Oz’s tone brooks no argument; something thin and frightened strains his voice, and it is this more than anything else that shakes Oscar silent. He can feel Oz’s fear as vivid as his own, his rage like a second heartbeat, and that is familiar to him—but to hear it, too? There is something frightening about it that Oscar can’t quite explain, something horrifying about Oz, always composed, now shocked to stumbling by the mere presence of the woman stalking the streets behind them. Oscar, I—I understand your thoughts, believe me, but we cannot— we will lose. We have to go. Now.

Oscar’s lips press thin. He tightens his grip on the cane and squeezes his eyes shut. “Right,” he murmurs, and when he opens his eyes again, his expression is set and determined, jaw clenched. In this they are decided—in this they are together. “Let’s go.”

And he takes one step out of hiding, one step out prepared to run—when he hears, high above and sharp as a blade, the sudden cawing of a crow.

Ice chills down their spine. Oscar snaps their head back, breath strangling in their throat. Oz’s horror, Oscar’s sudden spike of fear—Atlas is too high, too cold, too icy for birds such as those, which means—it can only be—

He doesn’t know Salem is here!

He must not. Because then Oscar can hear, in the distance, her voice faint but amused and her fury like a spark: “Ah. Ozpin’s little pet spy.”

No!

It is not just Oz who lunges forward. It is not just Oscar. It is the both of them—Oz, because Qrow is a friend and he has seen so many die; Oscar, to whom Qrow is almost a mentor, who is Ruby’s uncle and beloved and will be missed—and in this second the danger is forgotten to them, is unknown, is lost beneath the sharp spike of fear and faded memory, the lives and friends Salem has already taken away.

The world blurs—pinpoints—focuses on a singular point. Oscar takes their cane in hand and swings, the taste of ozone burning bitter on their tongue, lightning crackling in the air. They see Salem for only a moment—different from Oz’s memory, black veins lining her face and blood all the way up on her arm, burning eyes wide and briefly startled—and then they see her snarl.

Her hand snaps out. Red burns around her, liquid light, absorbing the blow of Oz’s magic and pushing her back only a few feet. A distant curse; a shout rising over the wind—Qrow. They’d diverted her attention just in time—the blow she’d meant for him had become her shield, and now Qrow is out of range. They weren’t too late.

But the red light fades and Salem still stands, and Oscar thinks—Oh, Oz whispers, Oh, no.

“Ozma,” Salem says.

Run. Run!

But there is nowhere to go, and they take that in at the same time, the same sinking feeling.

There is a red building at Salem’s fingertips. A bloody cast to her fury. The world seems to warp under her power, under her will—and she has never given anything away. She has never drained her power, not even a little; no gifts to four maidens, no vaults to maintain. She is as powerful as she was millennia ago, that first clash—that second death.

I’m sorry, Oz whispers, and he sounds horrified.

“It’s okay,” Oscar says, and he grips the cane in his hand and lets the green light try to shield him, and thinks—even if it's the end, at least he didn’t die running away.

Qrow is safe. Ruby and the others haven’t lost anyone else. At this moment, Oscar thinks, that choice— don’t regret it.

I—

Someone, somewhere, is shouting. Not just Qrow. Jaune? Ruby? The others? He doesn’t know—if it matters, if it means something, if they’ll even reach him in time. He almost hopes they don't. What if they get hit instead?

But whether this is the end or not, Oscar doesn’t care. He grits his teeth and glares at her across the way; doesn’t flinch when the magic starts to burn at him, the edges of his hair, the ends of his coat. He meets her gaze and holds it.

And to Salem, he says, voice hard: “My name,” as the light builds, as the world screams, as Salem snarls— “is Oscar.”

#rwby #oscar pine #ozpin #ozma #salem #qrow branwen #rwby volume 7 #rwby7 spoilers #rwby fic #iza fanfic #prompt fic

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razorblade180 · 4 years

Text

Duality

“I.... am not okay. Haven’t been since I was six, but even then, I was a pretty weak child. I’m quick to tears, quick to give up, and to give in. No matter how talented people may say I am it still feels like I’m coming up short. Short, another thing that gets to me. I might as well be the runt of everything; the weakest link in any chain. Just a bit a of tension before pop, severed and left falling to the floor with whoever was unfortunate to still be attached with me. At least they can still connect to something while I’ll be left broken. Maybe... that wouldn’t be the worst? I could save everyone the trouble of being latched to me if I just- no, wait, shit.... Can’t think like that. Dr. P went over this with you. Focus on the good and good will focus on you. But what is so good about being me? Well, a lot actually when I think about it. My folks love me unconditionally. My best friend adores me; even strangers adore me. Some of them would say that their even proud of me. Though I can’t imagine why. Does simply being their daughter earn my that praise or is it genuine? They all do so much more; my brother does his absolute most. It’s frustrating. Why can’t I do that? Why can’t I stand by him? Be the one in front of him for a change!? Is that so much to ask; to just feel like I’m pulling my weight with my own two hands for once in my life? Why isn’t he the runt? The one that got- that’s horrible of me. Disgusting of me; I don’t mean that at all. I’d never wish for such a thing, yet....I crossed my mind? I wouldn’t think that. He’s my big brother, I love him. He’s always there, always.... Why the hell is he always there? Why is everyone always there!? Don’t they know I can do things on my own? Is their faith that tiny? Agh, what am I saying; they do it out of love. It’s always been love. But it doesn’t make it feel any better! It never did. All it does is prove how weak I really am. Huh, this was supposed to be a list of good things....”

“I need a stage. Any stage really. A place where I decide who gets to join me or stand on the sidelines. Either way, the focus is on me. They all came to see me and make them happy. No sweat. Metaphorically anyways. I’ll make sure my performance heats up their excitement every time. Spotlights? On me. Their eyes? On me. My voice? It’s still mine. They simply get the chance to revel in it. Here, nothing else matters but me. I call the shots. I rule like queen. Powerful and radiant. It’s tiring work. Scary at times, but I love that thrill. Out there, no one can touch me; she can’t touch me. My only wish...is to take all this power, then step off the stage. Maybe then the dark thoughts can go away. I wouldn’t be afraid of what is yet to come. Everyday I can feel it. I’m running out of time. Will they notice? The ones closet will, I hope. The others might not even blink an eye. I sure wouldn’t. Still, I won’t go quietly. They might not notice me. Not who I really am anyways, but they’ll notice the absence of what I gave them. My gift to the world they cherish so dearly. Petty I know, but who are they to complain? If they miss it so much then they’ll seek me out right? Sounds nice, a stranger reaching for me. Funny, I preach about independence but fantasy seeing them all chase after me. I guess....I actually don’t know what I want from people. All I know is I wanna shine all the time. On and off the stage.”

Announcer:Ladies and Gentlemen, Summer Schnee!!’

Curtains rise and spotlights beam down on her as she walks across the stage. The cheering roar of a full stadium of fans hits her ears all at once; she loves it. Her gaze is directed towards an aerial camera which is no doubt getting dynamic shots of the long and beautiful black dress she wore that sparked red flakes like a kindling campfire.

“Hello everyone!” The girl said proudly as she greeted her audience with an award winning smile. She could hear the plethora of greetings she was getting back one after another. Summer took the microphone off the stand and started pacing left and right playfully as she looked at all the excitement.

Summer:Well well well, quite the turnout. Feels like I’m performing at a halftime show. Everyone feeling good this winter break?

The crowd screams happily; completely invigorated.

Summer:That’s good, me too. Been training with my brother for obvious reasons. He’s in the theater box with the rest of my family by the way. Can we get a camera on them?

One of the stadium monitors flip to the inside of the theater box to show the Schnee family and friends all dressed up. From Ruby all the way to Veronica; they were all there waving.

Summer:Most of them are responsible for setting this up since I’ve been a bit preoccupied. I’m thankful. Unfortunately....I still have forgotten to do something very important before the show. *smirking*

Scattered murmurs came from the crowd. As well as a few puzzled looks from her family.

Penny:What’s she doing?

Weiss:I have no clue.

Oscar:Owning it.

Jaune:Being extra like her mom.

Weiss:What’s that mean!?

Summer:You see, I sorta of couldn’t find the time to do my favorite vocal exercises; the most important one I usually do by myself. However.... since all of you look so excited to be here. I can make an exception.

Summer snaps her fingers and all the lights shut off. Everyone goes silent; wondering what was happening only added to the anticipation. They didn’t have to wait long before the sound of a piano filled the air; accompanied by an angelic voice that sung on key with it like if it was the opera. Weiss’s eyes went as wide as dinner plates when a single spot light came back on. Summer was sitting on top of the edge of a piano while someone played it. She looked calm; radiant.

Summer:Mirrior, tell me something? Tell me who’s the loneliest of all~

Weiss:W...when did she...?

More spotlights turn on to reveal the rest of the orchestra as they start to play.

Summer: Mirror, tell me something? Tell me who's the loneliest of all? Mirror, what's inside of me? Tell me can a heart be turned to stone~

Her voice held the note with a force and power. As the piano started it’s solo. No one could speak; they didn’t even seem to breathe. Summer’s voice didn’t try to intimate her mother’s in terms of pitch. She knew it would be foolish. Yet it more than made up for it with how much soul and air she could put into each not. Something even Weiss struggled with. Summer was however, she was about to show everyone exactly how she rose to stardom.

She hopped off the piano and made her way to the front of the stage with the microphone at her side. The average person would think she’s facing the entire crowd. No, she’s looking right where she knows her mom is sitting. The crowd doesn’t matter. Right now, it’s a family affair. Summer slowly inhales as the piano solo starts to end. Her left hand raises to her chest and extends her right one out with the mic. Almost as if she’s reaching for Weiss to grab it. Then....she turns it off.

Without hesitation, Summer begans her part again; and let’s out the famous angelic cry the song is known for. Every ear is reached perfectly as Summer evenly expels every last ounce of air from her lungs out on time. Her chest feels like fire and she’s tearing up. Not from pain though, but from absolute pride. Her mother might be hard to see from this distance but she already knows that Weiss is feeling the exact same thing. The strings start to kick in as the music becomes dynamic. Summer doesn’t miss the beat. Raises her voice along with it as the note climbs before the second half. She flips back on the microphone; never breaking eye contact from Weiss.

Summer: Mirror, mirror, what's behind you?Save me from the things I've seen!

I can keep it from the world; why won't you let me hide from me?

Mirror, mirror, tell me something? Who's the loneliest of, Aaaaaaallllll~

She holds it as the tempo increases faster and faster with the strings building up. Before all instruments stop abruptly as her note trails off; their spotlights vanishing with them and leaving her alone. The crowd is speechless as they look upon her. Not a hair out of place. It barely looks like she needs to catch her as she stare back. Her face glistening with a little sweat. The hard part was over. Her voice returning to the calm an pure way she started with. Summer closed her eyes.

Summer:I'm the loneliest of, all~

She could feel less heat on her. The spotlight had slowly turned off as she finished ilthe beloved song. Summer didn’t need to see the crowds reaction. The slow building of cheers and clapping was enough. Still, she opened her eyes while finally taking an actual breather. What she saw was something rare indeed. Summer had gotten a standing ovation. Even from her family; Veronica herself looked amazed. They all clapped. All except for Weiss. She was too busy crying tears of joy and trying to keep herself together by hugging Jaune. That alone was worth it.

Penny:Sensational!!!!

Nora:Damn...

Ruby:Woah....

Ren:That’s a warm up?

Winter:*sniffling* I’m not gonna cry.

Whitley:Yes you are.

Qrow:Cry? What are you talking about? It’s just smoky in here. *winks*

Winter:*crying* Exactly!

Jaune:Sweetie we are still on the monitor by the way.

Weiss:I don’t care!? Let the world see me proud of my girl! Gods I need a tissue. She was so good! So...so everything and more! I had no idea she practiced that song. Let alone made it her own!

Nicholas:I don’t know how. Those high notes aren’t exactly you know, quiet? I heard her practice once though. Summer does a good job keeping secrets.

Yang:Looks like talent runs deep in the family. What do you think Vee?

Veronica:Doesn’t matter what I think.

Valerie:Just admit that you are amazed?

Veronica:I thought that was clear from my clapping?

Blake:That’s all you’re getting out of her.

The crowd still cheered which was fine by Summer. Someone backstage was kind enough to give her some water as musicians left the stage and came back with the standard instruments for Summer’s typical style of music. One put a guitar around her as she finally perked up.

Summer:Phew! Thank you, thank you all so much. I gotta say, probably my best vocal exercise but that’s just me. Now....who’s ready for something with a bit more energy!?

The crowd doesn’t even get a chance to respond before Summer starts going all in on the guitar. It’s not like she didn’t already know what their answer. That’s what happens when you know your loyal subjects after all. In this moment, she truly controlled everything. It won’t last forever. So she’ll make the most of it. Summer will reign the way she wants with no restraint.

“That’s right. See me in my element; my finest hours. Cling to them. Who knows how many day I have left, before my reign comes to an end. My only wish? That the throne remains empty. Gods help them all otherwise.”

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synvamp · 4 years

Text

Getting Lucky

On patrol. Alone with Clover. This is fine.

Hook up fic with D&M, ridic flirting, angst!Qrow and so much love for Clover's pants XD

Rating: M

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Qrow took a long breath. He ran one hand through his hair and looked at his face in the reflective surface of the window one more time. He looked nervous as hell. Great.

Off on patrol. With Clover. Both of their teams were training but Jimmy insisted that his team leaders share a few hours to talk strategy and learn about each other’s fighting techniques. Knowledge enables control, he’d said. Whatever that means.

“See you tonight then,” Clover had said as they left the briefing, “Meet you down in Mantle, outside the Service Hanger at eight?” and then he winked and waltzed off, just like that.

“It’s not like you’re going on a date or anything,” Qrow muttered angrily at his reflection.

It felt so weird to have a guy flirt with him that he couldn’t even tell if it was really happening… It had been so long! He’d been so busy with Ruby and Raven and Yang and trying not to let his demons get the better of him. Who had time for a love life?!

The loneliness hadn’t helped, sure but it was starting to be a comfort. No one to let down… No; no one to drag down with his miserable semblance and his miserable life. And Clover had just breezed in. Just flicked his wrist in his cocky half salute as if he was saying, “Luck? I’ve got enough for the two of us.” Just like that.

It had been so long since he’d met a man he was interested in, he’d almost stared to think that maybe he wasn’t bi after all… maybe it was just because he was young or drunk, things like that happen, right? But there was no question now. Certain parts of his anatomy were absolutely sure.

But was Clover even flirting? Maybe he was always like that… cocky but full of empathy, warm, sincere… I sound like a teenager. I’m so horny all a man has to do is wink at me and I get all sweaty! But it wasn’t all he’d done at all. Every time Qrow looked in those turquoise eyes he thought, he’s not so great. He might be gorgeous and have a chiselled jaw and shoulders you could yoke a cart to but he’s just a show off. It’s nothing. He’s nothing.

And then Clover said something like, “They’re lucky to have you,” and looked at him like he knew every tormented thought that ever entered his head and suddenly he was right back where he started. Sweaty.

No… he wasn’t flirting. He was just like that. He just… winked at people. It’s a normal thing that someone like that would do. A confident person. It’s not like I would know how that feels, all my confidence came from a bottle. Looking up, he realised he’d turned the last corner of the long metal corridor and was about to step out into the hanger bay. A short walk around Hanger Four and he’d be at the maintenance end. He checked the time. It was seven fifty five.

Maybe I should stay here a while. Don’t want to be hanging around for ages looking nauseous.

Being sober is so damn annoying.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Clover’s voice bounced off the metal walls, strong and confident as always.

“Yeah, imagine,” Qrow replied, turning. Awkwardly standing in a corridor. Excellent start.

“I thought maybe a turn around the CBD?” Clover smiled.

Qrow nodded and they walked out the door to cross the concrete expanse of the hanger bay, skirting the landing strip. They walked in step, taking in the darkening evening, the lights slowly blinking on one by one.

Ok, Qrow told himself, you can do this!

“I like your weapon,” he said, “I haven’t seen a hook used like that in combat before.”

“I’m one of a kind,” Clover said, his eyebrows twitching.

Come on, Qrow smiled inwardly, he has got to be flirting.

“I’d love to have more of a chance to see you in action,” Clover let the words hang in the air; “Your sword looks pretty interesting too.”

“Yeah,” Qrow put an affectionate hand on Harbinger, “It sure is something special.”

“It’s rather… large though. Not compensating for anything?” Clover’s eyes twinkled.

“From the man whose radio call sign is Alpha?” Qrow raised an eyebrow. They laughed.

Clover exchanged a few words with the soldiers at the gate and they exited the military zone and stepped into the street.

“There are still a few grim getting in,” Clover said as they turned left at the gate and started a long loop around the middle few blocks of town, “so if we get lucky, I’ll get my chance to see you use it.”

Qrow smiled and they strolled in silence. There weren’t many people on the streets after everything that had happened. There was still quite a bit of damage too, it made the place feel eerie. Like the calm before the storm.

“If we go around this way, we can check the damaged sections of the wall on the way,” Clover gestured down an alley off to their left.

“Lead the way.”

The wall had been braced with rubble and some beams from a house which had been demolished a little way off. It seemed secure enough, for the time being.

“So how long have you been leading the Ace Ops?” Qrow asked, trying to make conversation.

“Not long, General Ironwood liked my style. Figured I’d be a good choice to keep the team from killing each other, I guess.”

“That bad?”

“A bit like herding cats but I like it,” Clover shook his head, “They’re good at what they do and they’ve got my back. And we’ve been lucky so far.”

“No surprises there,” Qrow sighed.

“I might have had a little look into your history too,” Clover said, not making eye contact. “Seems you’re a bit famous.”

“Infamous,” Qrow muttered, then added louder, “You could have just asked me, you know.”

“Well, where would be the fun in that?”

“Not much fun in any of it, I’m afraid,” Qrow sighed. He realised he was being melancholy and hastily re-joined, “Things have been better recently though, I feel like with Team RWBY we can really make a difference. It’s probably just wishful thinking but you know… they’re so young and enthusiastic, it’s kind of…”

“Infectious?” Clover finished, “I find luck’s like that too.”

“Does that mean I get lucky?” Qrow asked, only realising what he was saying after the words had escaped. He felt heat rising in his cheeks. Yay! I’m going to blush! This is turning out just swell.

“I’m not sure yet,” Clover smiled, “Guess we’ll find out.”

Qrow turned away to hide the rising pink in his cheeks, just as the sounds of shouts for help reached their ears. Maybe I am getting luckier after all, he thought as they ran towards the noise. I’m much less likely to stuff up fighting than conversation…

Four Boarbatusks had a woman pinned down in the middle of the street, further back a man and a young boy cowered, eyes desperately fixed on the scene. Clover cast his rod and the hook sailed through the air, one of the grim leapt forward to knock the line away. Qrow fired two shots moving fast, he took out the first grim with a sweeping blow of the scythe in sword form and then leapt high. The hook found its target and pulled the second grim off its feet. Qrow arced high and landed, decapitating the beast with a sweeping blow. The third creature knocked him backwards and as he spun up into the air, he could see Clover looking up at him, rod casually slung over one shoulder. He really was enjoying the show, it seemed.

Halfway between amusement and irritation, Qrow kicked off the building and flipped high. The grim advanced on the prone woman and her shriek cut through the air. He threw the blade and it stuck in the ground between them. Out of the corner of his eye, Qrow saw the silver hook sail past him; he landed and then grabbed the line as it flew by, yanking Clover off his feet and into the melee. No spectators thanks, Qrow smiled. Clover landed in front of him and swept the rod low, knocking the nearest grim off its feet. Qrow pressed a latch and his sword became his beloved scythe, he rolled over Clover’s back and swept it in a level arc. The third grim erupted into tatters of black. The very last creature reared back, its sharp hoofs cleaving the air above Clover’s head. Qrow finished his circle and brought the scythe point down. The blade pierced the grim’s head and it was over, seconds after it had begun.

Qrow stretched out a hand to lift Clover off the cobbles, “Out of ten?” he asked.

Clover stood and dusted himself off, “Eight? I like the scythe better,” he smiled.

“Me too,” Qrow stepped over to where the lady still lay and helped her gently to her feet. Her family came running, the man shouting, “Esther! Oh thank you, thank you!” to the two men.

Qrow opened his mouth to say, “It was nothing,” but Clover beat him to it.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “You can tell your friends you were saved by Qrow Branwen.”

Qrow cringed.

“You really have a problem with compliments, hey?” Clover teased as they walked away.

“I’m just not the round-of-applause type,” Qrow muttered.

“Well, I think you could use some practice.”

“What do you mean?” Qrow asked, highly suspicious.

“I’ll say something nice about you and you just have to take it.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“That sounds extremely awkward,” Qrow observed, suppressing a little thrill.

“Only if you make it that way,” Clover grinned, “Come on, look at me.”

They stopped walking. Qrow turned to face him and looked deep into those blindingly bright turquoise eyes. He swallowed.

“You’re an amazing role model,” Clover said.

Qrow blinked, struggling for an appropriate reaction.

“You’re a great fighter. I’ve heard stories about your time at the academy that just about made my hair curl.”

Qrow’s mouth twitched with a hint of a smile.

“You’re determined. I know you’ve had a lot to deal with these last few years but you never give up.”

Qrow looked at the ground. He felt like he’d given up a thousand times but… he was still here.

“You’re..”

“No, you’re right. I can’t do it,” Qrow laughed awkwardly.

“Come on, just one more,” Clover’s hand reached out and found Qrow’s elbow. Qrow looked up and their eyes met, “You’re very sexy.”

Qrow’s eyes widened and he stepped back.

“Uh.. sorry,” Clover laughed, “Just an observation.”

Qrow took a breath, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“I wax lyrical and that’s all I get? Harsh,” Clover smiled.

“I’ve got a lot more where that came from,” Qrow stepped forward and one hand found Clover’s hip. A hand found his waist in return and their lips met. Qrow leaned into the kiss, revelling in the heat of him, the taste of him. He could feel every inch of where their bodies met. The hunger which had been simmering in him flared bright. Finally, they parted.

Qrow noted, with a great deal of pleasure, that Mr Confidence finally seemed just a little flustered.

“Well…” Clover grinned, “We still have a patrol to finish but after that… I have a place near the eastern watch tower, maybe you’d like to come over?”

“I think I’d like that a lot,” Qrow said.

He let Clover take a few steps before he started to walk after him, watching his muscled ass jiggle.

A hellavalot.

And suddenly the rod made all too much sense.

Hook

Line

And sinker.

---xxx---

Part 2 HERE XD

#rwby spoilers #rwby 7 #fair game #clover ebi #qrow branwen #fanfiction

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