#bad luck branwen....its such a good name

[maskyartist]

*slams hands on table* cloqwork ace attorney au.

[hamliet]

Metals and Heavenly Bodies: Why There Is So Much Metal in RWBY

So, why is RWBY so metal? 

RWBY uses metallic symbolism to explore the alchemical process (the refinement of metal into gold via the creation of the philosopher’s stone). Alchemy has seven metals that are ordered in terms of refinement: three base metals, one that is the most refined of base metals, and three refined metals. RWBY has been associating each metal with certain characters. It’s also been giving these characters their ultimate focus in the precise order of refinement.

Metals in alchemy are also associated with heavenly bodies, or planets (well, plus the sun and moon, because we’re dealing with ancient astronomy here). The planets, of course, are named after Roman gods, so they too can be associated with the metals, and RWBY directly correlates them.

NB: It’s very valid to critique tropes and subtext. This isn’t intended to invalidate any criticism but rather to offer a symbolic reading of the metal motif.

So, let’s dive in.

Base Metals:

Lead-Saturn

Associated characters: Qrow Branwen, Ruby Rose, Mercury Black

While I can’t think of any specific reference to lead in RWBY, there are a ton of references to the mythical Saturn. 

Saturn's father (Uranus) was a piece of work who hated Saturn’s mother and so took his son (and other children) and imprisoned them in a cave so that they could never see the sunlight. Saturn’s mother eventually persuaded Saturn to take a sickle and castrate his father. He then wasn’t a particularly great dad himself, becoming more like his father than not.

In alchemy in particular, we have images of Saturn with a prosthetic leg (see: above). This is where Mercury begins his arc. He’s abused by his father, who steals his semblance and refuses to allow Mercury to be his own person (effectively rendering him a prisoner). So, Mercury kills him, and then is taken in by Cinder and Emerald to be an assassin for them, an assassin just like his father. You can see the parallels. 

Saturn’s sickle is also often drawn as a scythe, which Death holds in the above image. A scythe is of course the weapon used by Ruby and by Qrow--specifically, Qrow is the person Ruby imitates and admires. But we know (and Ruby now does to) that Qrow is a flawed human himself; Ruby is better of becoming her own person rather than continuing to stay like her father-figure in Qrow (her own dad is great, but that doesn’t mean Qrow isn’t also a dad figure to her!) 

Qrow, of course, is self-destructive, believing his semblance is to bring bad luck wherever he goes. His name is “crow,” the bird symbolizing the first (black) stage of death and rotting in alchemy. His own upbringing can also be compared to Saturn’s. 

But, you see, Saturn isn’t actually a sign of doom and death. It is one of the symbols of the prima materia, the lead to be transformed into gold by the end of the alchemical process. It shows where the characters can grow, and indeed all three of them are along their path towards growing. 

Tin-Jupiter

Associated character(s): James Ironwood (maybe Weiss Schnee)

Well, I’m actually going to talk more about Ironwood and his arc in the next section. But in Ozpin’s circle, in which characters are based on The Wizard of Oz (a blatantly alchemical story), we have Qrow as the scarecrow, Lionheart as the Cowardly Lion, and Ironwood as the tin man. Jupiter is also associated with the Sublimation stage in the process of alchemy, which is where we are now. 

In case we didn’t get the allusion, RWBY has helpfully placed artwork of tin men on the walls in the background of Weiss’s room this season.

I’m aware that this screenshot isn’t from this season but it gets the point across. I also feel tin might well have an association with Weiss and where she was at in her arc after the fall of Beacon. 

Additionally, Jupiter is actually Saturn’s son in mythology, and is saved from being eaten by his father (look Saturn really wasn’t awesome). He returns to force his father to regurgitate his siblings, and Jupiter and his rescued siblings (yes they were still alive; it’s mythology) fight to dethrone their father. They succeed with the use of lightning, among other things. Saturn was then imprisoned in tartarus. You can see the parallels. 

Do note that the glowing sun above the head of the tin man on Weiss’s wall, showing Weiss is destined to become refined like gold. The golden sun is in sharp contrast to Ironwood’s allusion to the Dark Sun, but there’s a lot more to say about Ironwood in the Iron section. 

Iron-Mars

Associated characters: James Ironwood, Marcus Black, Mercury Black

First, let’s continue with Ironwood. I’ve noted before that iron is associated with war:

Iron in particular is ruled by Mars, the god of war, meaning it is associated with violence. It’s not a coincidence that pretty much from the second Ironwood is introduced, the concept of war comes up, and his entire character has gone on to be the embodiment of the military and violence.

In addition to seeing himself as a sort of be-all-end-all Jupiter figure, Ironwood of course is always expecting war. His arc is one of reverse alchemy, which is a thing. It means that instead of becoming refined, he’s corroding from Iron to Tin. I don’t see good things for him. 

Mars in mythology also becomes obsessed with Venus, which... you’ll have to read the next section for that ;) 

Marcus Black, of course, is an assassin, hence it makes sense that his name literally means “dedicated to Mars.” Mercury (our Mercury) becomes more like him in taking over his role as an assassin. He’s so broken from his father’s abuse that he refuses to become his own person and just falls into his father’s role. It’s tragic. 

So is Mercury’s arc reverse alchemy? No, I don’t think so. There’s more (of course) later on, but if we look at the stages of his development, we see he has moved from Lead to Iron. It’s progress. His leg is a focus for the early arcs of the story (he uses it, along with Emerald’s semblance, to trick everyone into turning against Yang), and only later did we learn his history with his father. Even if the events of course did not happen in succession, the story revealed the allusions one after each other. He’s also made progress in that he’s clearly emotionally attached to Emerald even if he pretends otherwise. Also... (see below)

The Most Perfectable Base Metal:

Copper-Venus

Associated character: Penny Polendina

As I also mentioned previously, Penny’s name references copper (a “copper penny”). The Summa Perfectionis, a thirteenth century alchemical text, calls copper “the most perfectable of base metals.” 

Venus in alchemical imagery is almost always wearing (or surrounded by, since she’s also often, well, not wearing anything) green. 

Green is in alchemy the color of the prima materia, the raw, immature material that will eventually be refined into gold, because green is of course symbolic of the earth, fertility, growth, etc.

As I wrote previously, in mythology Mars had a thing for Venus. I’m certainly not suggesting Ironwood has a thing for Penny in a romantic/sexual sense, but he does seek to control her, and like the Mars of myth, his pursuit of Penny/Venus leads to his humiliation (the Mars of myth gets caught in a trap--no literally a net--by Venus’s angry husband). 

In contrast to Ironwood, Penny, who is originally made entirely of metal, becomes human, while Ironwood becomes more metal--not necessarily literally, but in his spirit. He’s lost his humanity, or rather, gave it away, while Penny found hers. It makes sense to me that a story with spiritual alchemy at its core (which focuses in the Jungian sense on individuation/self-actualization, or fully coming into an understanding of the self) would have Penny literally transform into what she has always been: a final product, a real girl, the philosopher’s stone. 

Refined Metals:

Now these are going to be a bit more predictive. The allusions are clearly there, but how exactly those will play out I don’t know because if we look at these metals as steps in the process, we’re not quite there yet. 

Mercury-Mercury

Associated character(s): Mercury Black, (maybe Emerald Sustrai)

I think the name says it all. 

Kidding. Mercury as a metal is also known as argentvive or quicksilver. It, along with sulphur, form the basis of the alchemical process. They must be united to achieve the Philosopher’s Stone (it’s one of the reasons I am wondering if we’re going to get an important, Mercury-related event in a place named for sulphur or its other name, brimstone, in Vacuo; all the places we know of in Vacuo are named after types of stones including several that are sulfuric in nature). Mercury himself unites the two principles of the work, sun and moon (for who those are, read below). Mercury is the metal from which all other metals come from--he’s way more important to this story than we’ve seen yet. Most likely, he will eventually turn on Salem as well, and in a pivotal moment.

As a god, Mercurius is the author of alchemy. He’s the mythical author of the Emerald Tablet (which Emerald’s name alludes to; I actually don’t personally think Emerald alludes very much to Aladdin. Instead, I think her allusion is the Emerald Tablet and her Egyptian design is based on Thoth, Mercury’s Egyptian counterpart). Mercury is the spirit that gives life.

Lyndy Abraham notes that Mercury is “both destructive and creative” (oh look at the relics of Atlas and Vacuo) and that “the elusive, duplicitous Mercurius who consorts with the devil is at the same time a redeeming psychopomp” (”psychopomp” means spiritual guide) “The fact that he can freely participate in both light and dark worlds without taint makes Mercurius the perfect mediating bridge.” Jung calls Mercury “a symbol uniting all the opposites.” So yeah, Mercury should have a redemption arc that will probably be pivotal in the story.

If we follow the self-actualization endgame of spiritual alchemy, with true life and wisdom as the metaphorical philosopher’s stone here, I think it’s likely Mercury becomes more himself--going from being Lead to Iron (as he’s clearly spiraling right now, but also has a connection to Emerald) to Mercury. I would also suspect he’d get his semblance back to establish that he’s his “own person” (a major recurring theme of RWBY), and while, like with Yang and her arm, I don’t think he’ll get new legs, I think it’s pretty likely his semblance will enable him to fly (since mythical Mercury, you know, flies). 

Silver-Moon

Associated character(s): Ruby Rose (also Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna, Oscar Pine, Jaune Arc, and Summer Rose).

The most important character here is Ruby, obviously. She’s our MC and titular character! But Weiss, Jaune, Blake, Summer, and Oscar are all addressed here. But I think it’s obvious that Ruby’s defining trait is her silver eyes. They got her noticed by Ozpin and sent to Beacon early, they’re the reason Salem is targeting her, they’re what could destroy her (turning into a Grimm) or save the world (what’s going to happen). Silver is noted to be “pure” which is what other characters constantly comment Ruby is. 

Gold-Sun

Associated character(s): Oscar Pine (also Sun Wukong, Yang Xiao Long, Tai Xiao Long, Ruby Rose, Pyrrha Nikos, and maybe Jaune Arc)

The most important/obvious character here is Oscar. Oscar’s first name is a shade of gold and a type of fish that is most often brown or gold. He’s facing a similar dilemma to Ruby: the threat of merging forever with Ozpin (which clearly won’t happen; he needs to be his own person, as Ruby said). 

Both Ruby’s and Oscar’s individualizations are somehow instrumental to defeating Salem. 

[fire-the-headcanons]

Follow the Beacon Ozpin—Generations

[Link to Masterpost] [Proceed with less caution than last week, but caution nonetheless]

Once upon a time, he could have frozen the roiling sea and walked across to the island in the span between two moments. That freedom and power was far behind him now.

It had taken several hours for the storm to abate enough to get a boat to Patch. It was still too rough above to risk flying—and besides, from what Balt said, Azraq needed his husband right now.

"We’re here," the ferry captain said, readjusting the spotlight. Signal’s dock was indeed emerging from the darkness and falling snow. "And I’m not going back until the storm’s over, unless that kid’s life depends on it."

"Signal’s hospital is well-equipped," Ozpin said, glancing up at the lighthouse. The beam sliced through the storm, clearly defined by the snow in its path. "There shouldn’t be a need. Thank you for your help."

"First rule of the ocean, if you can give aid you shut up and give it," he grunted, tossing a rope out toward the dock. Ozpin caught it, winding the line around the deck cleat as he had a thousand times before.

"Where’d you learn to do that?" the captain asked, tossing out another.

"Mistral," Ozpin replied.

No, it was Antica.

Antica no longer exists.

...I forgot. They focused on the ropes, pushing the memories away. "I may be a teacher but I am still a Huntsman. We tend to pick up odd skills."

Working together, it only took a few minutes for them to get the boat securely tied down. "Come in and warm up," he said, helping the man onto the dock.

"Don’t mind if I do," he huffed, and the two of them headed into the alcove carved into the cliff beneath the school.

Ozpin stared into The Long Memory's gears as the freight elevator rumbled up toward the fort, thinking back to the last meeting with Qrow not two weeks prior.

I was too focused on her. Again. His grip tightened. As soon as I knew she didn't send them, I relaxed.

I didn't think of it either.

Of course you didn't, he snapped. How could you have? We think exactly alike. We ARE exactly alike.

He didn't have a retort for that.

The doors opened into the school's storeroom. Azraq sat a few paces away, waiting on a small crate with his head in his hands.

The captain shifted uncomfortably. "You, ah, know where to find me" the captain mumbled and shuffled off toward the Huntsmen’s quarters.

Ozpin waited until the door had closed behind him to speak. "Huang said he’s stable?" They’d gotten the message halfway across the bay.

"He hasn't woken yet." Azraq sat unmoving, but his voice shook. "...This is all my fault."

"What happened?"

It took him another moment to answer. "Bones was their father."

Ozpin winced. That was an… unfortunate complication. Of course it had always been a possibility, but neither of the Branwen siblings seemed like the type to want offspring. "Have you told Claret?" She had taken the news that the twins had come from the tribe badly enough…

"No."

"...Are you going to?"

Azraq's hands fell to his lap but his gaze remained resolutely downward."....No." Ozpin suppressed twin sighs of relief. "I ruined their lives."

Now that's simply ridiculous, Ozpin thought, before shushing himself angrily. They sat on the next crate and placed one hand on his shoulder. "From what Qrow told me, it was his death that necessitated their escape. They might not be here otherwise."

"It was an accident, I ran into them on my way out. He saw me. I tried to take him aside and talk it out, but he thought I was going to threaten—or, or beat him." Azraq's brow furrowed deeper. "I told him I wouldn't hurt him. I thought if I got him back safely, he'd believe me."

"You couldn't have—"

"Balt wanted me to stop."

"What?"

"For years. He wanted... He wants to start a family. But Branwen was still out there, and…" He finally met Ozpin's eye, tears gathering in his own. "How could I ever be a father—"

"Stop," he said, hand tightening on his shoulder. "...Stop. You're upset, you're in shock. If Bones Branwen had done right by those children we wouldn't be here now." He sighed heavily. "This is my fault. I should have told him to see a doctor rather than suggesting it."

Azraq shook his head. "Summer used her eyes."

Oh dear, they chorused.

"Then the storm is a stroke of luck," Ozpin said, recovering. "The lightning will have covered—"

"No. You know it’ll happen again, now it’s happened once. Unlocking it is the hardest part."

"...Have you explained?"

"She woke up a few minutes ago, and Claret’s stuck in the storm. Huang told her she hit her head… she seemed to buy it."

"Then with any luck we'll have more time."

Azraq remained unconvinced. "You should go. You might be able to help him. I—I don't think he should see me."

"Probably not," he conceded. "At least, not yet. I think in time, when he's healed, the two of you will be good friends."

"Can you tell him? I'm... I'm sorry, and... if he's willing to forgive me then he has to accept my forgiveness."

Ozpin tilted their head thoughtfully. "That may be an excellent way to reach him. ...Get some rest."

He nodded, climbing slowly to his feet. Ozpin followed suit, leaning on their cane more than usual. "...You and Balt will make wonderful fathers. I wouldn't have asked you to run Signal if you weren't good with children."

Azraq almost laughed, wiping his face.

"These are... I wouldn't even say 'extraordianry' circumstances. 'Catastrophic', perhaps."

Out of earshot—which, considering Azraq's Semblance and the silence of the halls, was quite a long way indeed—Ozpin muttered under his breath, "We each failed him in our own way."

Signal’s hospital was reassuringly empty, except for the two occupied beds at the end. Or rather, semi-occupied, as Summer sat on hers, apparently fine and speaking with Huang. Raven sulked against a wall. Tai sat next to Qrow, who lay sickly pale despite the IV steadily dripping blood back into his veins.

His heart sank, staring at the bottle. Three generations ago he would have died.

Please. Don’t dwell on it.

"Professor Ozpin?" Summer leaned around Huang to gawk at him. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard two of my students had been injured."

She huffed. "I’m fine. Qrow will be glad to see you, though, when… when he wakes up."

"I can only hope. In the meantime… are you all right? Azraq didn’t disclose any details."

"You talked to him…? Is he… is he okay?"

"Perhaps not yet, but he will be. However, I was asking about you, Ms. Rose."

"Oh. Well, uh, it’s …. stupid…"

Huang ruffled her hair. "Don’t sell yourself tall, shortie."

"Hey, hey, brain injury!" she protested, shoving him away and pushing it back out of her face. "The truck spun out on the way here and I hit my head."

"Summer…" Huang’s warning tone was unmistakable.

She squeaked, burying her head under her arms. "I tried to fight a Beowolf with a fire extinguisher!"

Oh, gods. They very nearly laughed.

Of all the ways for a silvereye to unlock their gift—

—I could not imagine one more perfectly… Summer than this.

"I’m sorry, okay? I know it was a bad idea but you were driving and Qrow was unconscious and none of us had our weapons and I had to do something or…"

Huang sighed, rubbing his face. "I know. I know. That’s not going to save me from your mother, though."

"I think the storm is doing that," she muttered, glaring out into the darkness. The snow did seem to be picking up again.

"Guys, he’s moving," Tai whispered loudly. Qrow’s uninjured hand was gently clasped in his, a wince forming on the sleeping boy’s face. Summer shoved her way past Huang, darting to his side despite her 'injury'. No one bothered to protest.

Qrow groaned feebly, eyes cracking open and wandering the room in confusion. Taiyang leaned forward and spoke in an even, soothing voice. "It's okay, Qrow, it's okay. Nobody's going to hurt you. It's us."

His eyes rested on Tai for a moment before wandering again, searching the room disinterestedly. That is, until they landed on his sister.

"...Raven?" he rasped, almost confused.

Her face contorted in rage and pain, and she shoved past Summer to drive a fist into his shoulder. Qrow's cry of pain wasn't enough to drown out her fury—"Why are you so WEAK?!"

Ozpin's magic surged with a thought and the world slowed to a stop as they wished themselves on the other side of the room. As much as his power had dwindled, it was more than enough for him to hook his hand beneath hers and pull it away before she realized he had moved.

She stiffened, recoiling from them in fear, but Ozpin kept a gentle hold on her hand. "Miss Raven." He would not usually call a student by their first name, but a false one did not have the necessary weight. "We do not do that here." When she pulled away again, he released her and turned back to her brother.

"Qrow? Come on, man, you’re scaring me." Taiyang’s voice waved as he gently shook his friend. He gave no indication he’d heard, staring blankly at the ceiling even as Summer began calling for him as well.

Next Chapter: Qrow—A Place in This World

[mercurryblack]

Chapter 6: Rudyard

Day six: the investigation fruitlessly continues.

❃❃❃

“Any luck today?” Yuen asked.

After six fruitless days of combing over Berilo’s house and garden, LLAC had once again returned to the usual meeting place. By that time, Yuen, Rudyard and Sardion were already waiting for them, and the sun was inching down past the horizon.

Lillian shook her head in disappointment. “Nothing. We searched the house from roof to basement as usual, but we didn’t find anything that wasn’t already marked or mentioned in the initial report.” She informed them.

“Yeah, same here.” Cait added. Under their breath, they grumbled; “This is so not cool at all.”

The search of the garden on the first day had been under pleasant weather, but that was the only upside that they recalled— most of that day had just consisted of crawling around underneath the plants and staring at every inch of grass and dirt for footprints. Consistently, the highlight of each passing day seemed to be their short lunch break.

Sardion sighed. “We’re in the same boat, then. Nothing turned up for us, either— I guess we’ve hit a dead end.” Yaara’s house, in comparison had been spick and span, just like how she organized it. Like Berilo’s, a blood spatter marked the area where she had died, but the house was in better shape than his— the door was still on its hinges, with no sign of lockpicking.

“So, what are we going to do next, Detective?” inquired Rudyard. Despite his annoyance at the lack of any new leads, he managed to keep his tone calm.

Yuen raised a hand to her temple, exhaling heavily. “For now, we should head back to my office. I’m sure the lot of you are hungry, I have some food stashed there. We can talk over a nice meal.” she answered.

Sardion raised an eyebrow. “You keep food in your office, too?”

“Ah, just some Dr. Piper and a few packs of Simple Wok instant noodles,” Yuen replied. “…Er, lots of Simple Wok instant noodles, to be honest.”

***

Yuen prepared some water for the instant noodles on a hot plate, as the group sat huddled in the small space.

“Sorry that this is all I have. Whenever us detectives need to stay for the night, cup ramen and soda become our nectar and ambrosia.” She said, sounding a bit embarrassed.

Rudyard laughed, giving Sardion a gentle nudge in the arm. “It’s alright, detective. Truth be told, it makes me remember when I was back in the academy. Sardion, Berilo and I used to sneak boxes of these from the cafeteria to our rooms every once in a while, so that we could have late-night snacks every time we needed to stay up to finish our written assignments.”

“Oh gods, yeah, I remember that.” Sardion said. “And you remember that time Yaara yelled at all of us because we pulled an all-nighter and made the entire room smell like broth? She said if we had just eaten enough at dinnertime like ‘normal people’, we wouldn’t be hungry and therefore wouldn’t stink up the dorm. She was right, of course, but that never stopped us from doing it again and again.” He started laughing along with Rudyard.

“Man, we should try that out, Hattie.” Cait suggested. “Knowing ol’ Branwen, there’s no way that he’ll let me off of that paper just for this assignment, so we might as well have something to eat.”

“Yeah!” Hattie agreed. “We can eat whenever we want!”

Sardion adopted a comically authoritative demeanor. “Hey, hey, bad idea. Don’t do it. And if you ignore me and get caught, don’t tell Lionheart we did it too at our time there. But, if you pull it off and don’t get caught, then you gotta tell us how you did it.”

Rudyard shook his head, grinning. “Man, we must’ve done it ‘til the day we graduated. That grouchy old lady who worked there would always wonder why some of their food was lost, but we never got the blame for it.” He clicked his fingers “Say, you remember the time Hidalgo and Gin found her stash of chocolate pudding and took as much as they could carry?”

“The Great Pudding Robbery of ‘56. How could I ever forget—?”

This time, it was Lillian’s turn to interject. “Wait, Hidalgo? As in Hidalgo Ferrante?”

Sardion turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, he was one of our pals in the academy. You know him?”

“Sort of.” Lillian replied. “I mean, I’m dating his daughter right now.” She explained, her cheeks reddening slightly.

“Wait, no kidding?” Sardion’s eyes widened. Turning to Rudyard, he mouthed ’did you know?’

“Yeah, her name’s Rosario.” Rudyard continued. “Talks about her all the time. Showed me a picture of her once, too— she’s definitely her old man’s daughter, has his eyes.”

As he spoke, Yuen sat down with them, placing the pot of now-boiling water in the middle and gesturing to the box of cup ramen. “Okay, grab whatever flavor of noodles you want. And before we continue with the nostalgia and all that, we should first discuss what we want to do next.”

“But… we still haven’t really found anything. How are we supposed to know our next move?” Amaryllis asked.

“Well, it’s not like we can just sit here until something else happens.” answered Yuen.

“Actually, they could stand to do so.” Sardion suggested, indicating LLAC with a nod of his head. “Not for long, but just half a day should suffice. We need to have clear heads, and that goes double for you, Detective— you’ve been pulling all-nighters trying to connect the dots on that corkboard. We all deserve a moment’s rest before we try facing the problem head-on.” he suggested.

Rudyard pensively nodded. “Sardion and I can carry our own independent investigations during then. We’ll try and reconvene with you in the evening, Detective, and LLAC can join us the next morning. The last couple of days have been a whirlwind, and while I’ve no intention of stopping my search for the killer, I don’t want us to burn out— or you guys, for that matter.”

After a moment’s pause, Yuen nodded in agreement. “Alright, team, you kids get tomorrow off starting at noon, and you two get the morning to make your own inroads. But when we all get back, we immediately pick up from where we left off, agreed?” She remarked.

“Agreed!” LLAC responded in unison.

***

“You know, despite all the preservatives, this stuff isn’t half bad.” Lillian said, shoveling a hunk of chicken-flavored noodles into her mouth. “I can see why people would get addicted to it.”

Yuen laughed. “What, don’t tell me you never ate this growing up? Not even once?”

Amaryllis shook her head as she followed her sister’s example, holding up a cup of beef-flavored noodles. “Aunt Izzy was always pretty strict about what we ate. Sure, we had breakfast cereal and juice and the occasional sweets, but that was pretty much it. Said that we had to follow a good diet, and that taste was one of the first things Huntresses sacrificed in the field.” She slurped some of the broth. “Hope I never have to find out what she meant by that.”

“Mmmllpphh... uhh knww whuhh duhs’ lhhk,” Cait said through a mouthful of noodles. “Than’th fuhh th’ muhhll.”

Yuen nodded. “No problem, kid. Eat up, you need it.”

“RRURRRRRP!” Their conversation was interrupted by a loud burp from Hattie. “Ah, ‘scuse me.” She said sheepishly

“Hah! I’ll have whatever she’s having!” Sardion laughed, countering her with a slightly louder belch of his own.

He barely even finished before the petite girl grinningly returned the favor with an even louder eructation.

“Are you… perhaps challenging me, Miss Lazuli?” Sardion inquired, his face turning comically stony as he repressed the urge to snicker.

Hattie smirked, holding up an unopened soda can. “Mayb—b—buUUUURRRRUUUPPPP!”

“Oh, for the love of…” Lillian groaned at the childish antics of the two. “Okay, saying it right now; I’m not being the judge this time.”

***

“Okay, you two, you know the rules. Whoever burps the longest wins, brownie points for whoever starts the loudest,” Amaryllis recited, holding up the timer on her Scroll, her finger raised just above the screen. “Ready.”

Sardion and Hattie each snapped open a can of soda, looking each other dead in the eye as they did so.

“I must let you know, Miss Lazuli, that I was the burp-off champion of Haven Academy in my time.” boasted Sardion.

“That was a long time ago, old dude. Now, it’s my time to shine.” Hattie shot back.

“Set.”

Both of them raised the metal edges of the cans to their lips, still maintaining their locked gaze.

“Last chance to back out, kiddo.” Sardion said, in a taunting voice.

Hattie didn’t reply, but narrowed her eyes and gave Sardion a thumbs-down.

“Go, Sardion.” Rudyard cheered halfheartedly yet amusedly, who sat on the couch watching the game.

“Get him, Hattie!” Cait crowed.

“Begin!”

Glup, glup, glup, glup. Both Hattie and Sardion began swigging down their cans in one long draught, their eyes beginning to water against the drink’s stinging carbonation. Within the span of a few seconds, they had poured every last drop down their throats, only for their cheeks to pouch as the carbon dioxide came rushing back up their gullets.

“Aaaaaaand… go!”

(For the reader’s own sake, this ridiculous match has been abridged by the author, who apologizes for this shameless, childish, and blatantly filler chapter. If you wish for a much funnier burping match, please follow this link.)

“And… time!” Amaryllis turned off her Scroll’s timer as Hattie and Sardion’s burps died down at the same time. “Geez! Thirteen seconds, not bad.” She remarked, swiping on her CCCT browser. “Says here that the world record’s over forty, apparently.”

“Which one had that time?” Hattie asked, wiping her chin with the crook of her elbow.

“Both of you, actually. Tie.” Amaryllis said, lifting her gaze.

Without missing a beat, Hattie grabbed another can of Dr. Piper and thrust it at Sardion. “AGAIN!”

***

While they continued with their childish contest, Cait, Lillian, and Rudyard were busy talking about some of their older missions. Cait found the pair’s recollection of the Kumoyuri assignment far more interesting than the day’s work, and found the part where Lillian had gotten dunked in mud wildly funny.

Personally, they didn’t find their extracurricular Grimm-hunting work to be as interesting, but Rudyard still politely listened nonetheless. Lillian, having been there along with Cait, only half-listened to them as she poured water into another cup of noodles.

“Oh, man. So there we were, looking right in the eye the largest Boarbatusk I’ve ever seen in my whole life. It huffed, and it puffed, it almost blew us away, but we still weren’t scared!” Cait exclaimed, gesturing with their hands to the best of their ability. “Thing is, it was pretty simple once we got down its attack pattern. Charge, turn around, charge, turn around, snort, repeat. Fourth pass around, Hattie managed to chop off its tusks with Whirligig… uh, her saw-gun thingamabob.” They continued, snapping their fingers as they tried to recall the exact name.

“Whirling Dervish.” Lillian said.

“Yeah, that, thanks Lilly.” Cait said, nodding. “Well, as I was saying, she cut off its tusks and got its face pretty good, and I shouted, ‘Guess you’re just a “Boarba” now!’” They sniggered for a moment at their own joke. “You wanna know why I called it that?”

Rudyard chuckled, bracing for the terrible pun he knew was incoming. “No, I have no earthly idea. Why?”

“Because it lost its tusks. Gettit? Boarba? No ‘tusk’? Cut its tusks off?” Cait grinned, acting as if the wordplay had been anything resembling clever.

“Oooof.” Rudyard groaned, shaking his head despite the grin on his own face. “Bad one.”

“I know, right? I should get an award for my combat banter. S’not as easy as everyone thinks it is.”

“Ignore them.” Lillian said, rolling her eyes.

Rudyard leaned back, taking a helping of his own noodles. Despite his inner tension, the pain he still had in his heart, he felt relaxed and eased by LLAC’s company. It felt nice for all of them to gather like one big family, even facing the stark reality of the next day to come. It would take far more than one good night to heal, but watching his protégé and her team… it filled him with determination.

It gave him strength and determination, seeing the new generation take the reins the old had once held. More importantly, it gave him hope.

[kaen-ace-of-diamonds]

Full Moon Dance

Word Count: 3300+ (chapter 2, final) (chapter 1) [AO3 link]

Genre: Humor/Romance

Characters: Raven Branwen, Summer Rose, Qrow Branwen, Taiyang Xiao Long, Ozpin, Kite Branwen (OC, mentioned)

Pairing: Raven Branwen/Summer Rose

Summary: Misunderstanding what "taking a partner" is supposed to entail, Raven asks Summer to the Vytal Festival Dance.She did not expect that to become a gateway to facing her changing feelings for her teammates and her place at Beacon.

~0~

“I don’t want to hide. I want to slow dance with you again. I want to dance with you forever.”

Sarah Black

~0~

At this point, Raven couldn’t remember what it was like to feel relaxed at all. She should have known that the last two weeks had been too good to be true. 

With the limited funds that they had, Summer had led her on a search through Vale’s wide selection of clothing stores to find the perfect party outfits. While she had been exhausted by the end of it, she had to admit that she was still surprised both by how comfortable her dress was and how Summer had managed to pick something for her that matched her style so perfectly.

Still, it was Summer’s choice that she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off of: a soft and shimmery silver dress, that matched her eyes and fell just below her knees. Even more than that, she enjoyed the sight of her partner admiring it on herself in the mirror. She nodded along as if she’d never heard it before every time Summer remarked, “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever worn anything this pretty in my life.”

None of them had volunteered to manage any part of the dance, which was a plus in Raven’s book, so all the four of them had to do was look forward to it. She had to admit, Tai didn’t look half bad in his deep gold suit, though it had originally belonged to his father and was a little too big for him. Watching Qrow nearly choke himself on his new tie — part of an outfit similar to her own, though the black of his suit was softer and its red accents brighter — more than once while getting accustomed to it was pretty funny.

When they arrived, Tai’s arm thrown over Qrow’s shoulders and Summer gripping Raven’s hand, the hall was already crowded and noisy, the party in full swing. Whoever had decorated had gone a little overboard on what she could only assume was a starry sky theme: hundreds of holographic paper stars hung on strings all around the room, reflecting the multicolored lights roving everywhere. It did cast a nice rainbow onto Summer’s dress when it wasn’t momentarily blinding her.

As for the music, she was pretty sure she’d already heard most of these songs in the department store changing rooms, but everybody seemed to be liking them well enough. The dance floor was getting fairly packed, but Raven could still see some spots that would accommodate her and Summer. As such, she had expected that to be their first stop.

Instead, while Tai was coaxing Qrow and his sudden case of cold feet out of the corner, she allowed Summer to lead her as she flitted around the room, chatting with and introducing her partner to all the students she’d met from the other Academies. She was taking the whole fostering friendships theme of the Vytal Festival very seriously, and while Raven was only marginally friendly with any of them, she didn’t mind both scoping out their tournament competition and watching Summer be so damn personable.

After a short while, she’d been left to take a break at a table as Summer went to grab them both snacks and fruit punch, and hadn’t minded that either. There were still plenty of people on the dance floor, momentarily sacrificing dignity in the name of fun, that she was content to watch in the meantime. Even her brother was allowing his partner to tug him closer to the spotlight, on the sidelines watching Tai demonstrate the moves of an energetic dance she didn’t recognize.

Maybe this wasn’t the fanciest get-together in the world, but it was nice, legitimately nice. Much better than any night spent by a bonfire in the middle of Anima, drinking moonshine in the dirt with the children of people Kite wanted to make nice with, that was for sure.

And she was going to strangle whatever little spanner in the works had cut it short by spiking the punch and not informing Summer.

The timing had been all wrong, that’s what it was. If she or Qrow had tasted it first, they not only would have noticed the sharp bitter streak, but would have been able to stay on their feet after drinking it. The stuff Kite brewed in the tub behind her tent was stronger than whatever had been dumped in the punch bowl...but only slightly. Tai would have been rocked pretty hard, but she felt sure he wouldn’t have been put out of commission by it, especially if he had only taken one gulp.

But poor Summer was not only a hundred pounds soaking wet, but was so fond of sweet things that she’d chugged an entire solo cup of punch before realizing something wasn’t quite right about its contents. 

When Summer had come loping up to her empty-handed and grabbed her arm, Raven had assumed for a second that she had forgone refreshments and was suddenly very excited to finally take her to dance. Instead...

“Heyyyy, Raven? Where’re we going?” Summer nearly tripped over her own feet, thumping against Raven’s shoulder. “And where’re my shoes?”

Raven, holding Summer’s wrist in one hand and her heels in the other, grit her teeth as she peered around the corner of the second-year dorm building. “Don’t worry about it, and back to our room.”

“But wha...what about the boys?” 

“Don’t worry. They’ll be fine until we get back.”

Once they had all realized the situation, there had been a brief, fiercely whispered discussion about who should be the one to stealth-mission Summer safely back to their dorm room before their chaperoning professors noticed. Qrow and his Semblance had been put out of the running immediately; they didn’t need any more bad luck befalling them on the way. Tai had first offered to go with them, to negate Qrow’s Semblance, and then alone, as he was the one that most of the faculty liked best. 

However, as it was Raven’s arm that Summer was clinging to so steadfastly, and refusing to be detached from, it was quickly decided that it had to be her. So while Tai and Qrow distracted the chaperoning professors, off she had gone, her slurring and swaying partner in tow.

“Oh. Will we be back soon? An’ hey, are you spinning? I’m spinning. Are we gonna dance soon? You can spin me around too if you want, I’d loooove that!”

She should have known Summer would be a chatty drunk, as well as the lightest lightweight she had ever met. 

“Shh, relax,” Raven muttered as she darted them across the small lawn and up to the front door. Locked. Of course. And their keys were back at the dance hall.

She pulled a bobby pin from her hair (thankfully, Summer didn’t notice the partial spoiling of all her taming and styling efforts) and went quickly to work on the lock; Kite preferred brute forcing her way into places, but she had bothered to teach her twins at least some finesse. 

“Just...be quiet for a minute, okay?”

“Surrrrrre...”

In the dark, it was harder to pick the lock, but not much harder. Ignoring Summer swinging her arm back and forth, Raven eased the door open a crack and peeked in. The ground floor seemed as devoid of professors, security, or other students as the grounds themselves.

“Perfect.” Raven pulled her inside and started for the stairs with perhaps more vigor than her partner was ready for. “Let’s go!”

“Ohh-ohhh!”

“Shh!”

The stairs themselves were...trickier. Why, oh, why did they have to live on the third floor?

“Come on, Summer!” She wasn’t sure how to hiss at someone encouragingly, but she gave it her best try. “You can do it. You do it every day!”

“Well, it’s not every day!” Summer whined. She might as well have still been wearing her heels, the way she was stumbling around on the steps. “They’re way too long!”

“They’re not—” 

She broke off in a frustrated huff, and spent the next several minutes attempting to coax Summer up the stairs, and thinking that it would probably be easier to teach a puppy how stairs worked. Around the middle, she glanced up at the second flight of stairs behind them, and the third flight behind that, and finally decided—

“Fuck it!”

Summer’s eyes went huge as Raven grabbed her and hauled her upward, maneuvering her onto her back. “Raven, my heeeeead! I don’t wanna spin anymore!”

“Your head is fine, relax. Keep your arms around my neck, and you can rest it on my shoulder.” Raven refrained from wincing when Summer obeyed a little too quickly, and jammed her bony chin directly where Raven’s neck met her shoulder. “Just don’t throw up on me.”

Summer scoffed, and Raven couldn’t be sure whether she was nuzzling her neck on purpose. “‘Course I won’t. I’m not drunk.”

“Of course not, my mistake,” said Raven, rolling her eyes, as she boosted Summer up into full piggyback position. “Now hold on.”

At least there was one silver lining to Summer being so small: Raven’s footsteps didn’t fall any heavier on the hard tile steps, even while carrying her. There was no one in the stairwell, and with most everyone at the dance, she was really hoping there wouldn’t be anyone there when they reached their floor. 

(Of course, she doubted whether there was any Beacon student who would snitch on her, not if they knew what was good for them, but better safe than sorry.)

As such, the only other sound in the place was Summer’s perpetual chattering, now directly in her ear. 

“Gods, you’re so warm,” she was saying now, rubbing her face against her hair. Yeah, definitely on purpose. “And your hair is so soft. ‘S like lying on a blanket instead of a hay bale. I did ssssuch a good job...”

“Yes, you did,” replied Raven flatly. Having reached their stop on the stairwell, she dropped Summer’s shoes and shifted her partner slightly so she could have a free hand to open the door. “Very good.”

Luckily, Summer didn’t seem to mind, or even notice, being jostled. “Yeah. You’re the best. You’re suuuuuch a good partner. I’m so glad I didn’t actually break your spine when I landed on you. You remember that?”

Raven snorted. She doubted she could ever forget their first encounter in the Emerald Forest. “Sure I do. My back still hurts when it rains.”

Summer scrunched up her face and made a scandalized noise, rubbing her face against Raven’s like a cat. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to. I’d never hurt you on purpose.”

“Yeah, I know,” muttered Raven, edging them through the door and creeping onto the floor. Their dorm wasn’t in this hall, but it wasn’t too far off either. “Come on, home stretch.”

“I’ll never let anything hurt you, either,” Summer went on, and Raven could feel her smiling against her neck. “Anything tries to, I’ll make it explode.”

“Yep. Definitely.”

“It’s my secret, you know? I’ll tell you all about it one day. But I don’t want it to change anything.”

“It won’t, I’m sure,” Raven said, nodding along to her rambling, while her eyes flicked around for any signs that they weren’t alone. 

“Ahhh...actually, might change a lot. Y-You know something? I wish I didn’t even have them.”

Raven didn’t stop walking, but there was a heavy enough undertone of distress in Summer’s voice that she turned to look at her. “Have what?”

Summer stared back at her, silver eyes huge and blinking back tears. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know if I should tell you.”

Raven blinked back. Well. Hadn’t she just been thinking about this? Here was the perfect chance to set that precedent, of not digging too deeply into secrets that any teammates might be hiding. 

“...That’s okay, Summer. I don’t mind that you didn’t say anything, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“But I—”

“Pardon me?”

Raven jumped badly, and spun around so fast it was a wonder that Summer wasn’t flung clean off her back. (A small part of her almost wanted to do it anyway and get rid of the evidence.)

If it were anyone else, she would have been set to snarl and threaten. But she would recognize that soft, measured tone anywhere, so what blurted out of her mouth was a cracked, “Hello?!”

Ozpin tilted his head slightly, regarding the two of them with curiosity and more than a little concern. “Miss Branwen, Miss Rose. Are you two all right?”

Less than ten years her senior, the headmaster’s youth and mild demeanor put many people at ease. It just made Raven want to put up her guard around him even more, especially now that it was time to lie her ass off to him.

“Yes, Summer just twisted her ankle while we were dancing, so I figured I’d take her back to our room to rest.”

The confusion on Summer’s face was almost comical. “We were dancing?”

Raven fought a fleeting but powerful urge to headbutt her. “Tai and Qrow let the other professors know. We’ll be fine, thanks.”

“Right now the other professors are dealing with several other...incapacitated students at the moment,” Ozpin informed her, leaning on his cane, and Raven couldn’t decide whether his expression was genuinely or deceptively friendly. “Would you know anything about that?”

“No,” said Raven, perhaps a little too quickly, trying her best to look puzzled and innocent. As if she wasn’t a dogged but terrible liar. As if Summer’s Aura wouldn’t have immediately healed a sprain. As if the acrid scents of fruit punch and cheap spirits weren’t radiating off of her. 

As if Summer herself wasn’t being entirely unhelpful. “Ohhh! Hi, Professor!”

Ozpin smiled. “Hello, Miss Rose. How are you feeling?”

“Much better!” Summer knocked her head affectionately against Raven’s, her arms twisting tighter around her neck. “Raven’s the best partner ever!”

“I see that. Well, if you’re uncomfortable walking, then it’s no wonder you left these behind.” He handed Raven the pair of Summer’s heels that she had forgotten in the stairwell. “Get some rest, I expect to see you both in full fighting form on Monday.”

“Y-Yes, of course,” was all Raven could say through her shock. They’d just been caught red-handed breaking at least five school rules at once, and he was just...letting them? “Uh...thanks?”

Summer waved vigorously at his retreating back, nearly falling off of Raven. “Bye, Professor!”

“Ugh, Summer, stay still!”

The last leg of their trip was short and thankfully uneventful. Raven didn’t bother turning on the light; she just heaved a sigh of relief when the door closed and she and Summer finally collapsed onto her bed. She kicked off her own shoes and made sure that Summer was lying properly on her side: at least there was one advantage to helping Kite deal with completely soused tribe members after successful raids.

“Hey. How do you feel?”

Summer mumbled contentedly, nuzzling the pillow. “A little spinny.”

“You think you might get sick?”

“Nope. You make me feel better.” Summer’s eyes were gleaming, but their lids were drooping. “I think I’m gonna sleep. I’m sorry, but...I don’t think I can dance with you after all.”

“That’s okay. I don’t mind just lying around here with you.”

“Suuure...y-you really are the best...part...”

Before she could manage the second syllable, she had fallen sound asleep. Raven didn’t think being touched would wake her up, but still she undid her braids as gently as possible. She had no interest in returning to the dance without her partner, and save for sending a quick text to Qrow confirming that they were back in their room, she didn’t think any more about it. 

The best thing to do would be to take Summer’s example and call it a night. But even after taking her hair down and changing into an old shirt and shorts, and lying down next to Summer — had to keep an eye on her until she’d slept it off, after all — she felt wide awake, and couldn’t seem to look away from her face.

(It wasn’t even that late, but it looked like it was still going to be one of Those Nights where her thoughts got the better of her.)

Summer looked peaceful. She looked...beautiful, there was no other word for it. And she trusted Raven, in a way that Raven hadn’t thought possible after less than two years of knowing somebody. It wasn’t a new realization, but it was one that made her feel strange and unsteady inside if she gave it enough time to set in. 

She didn’t know for sure what she was supposed to call such a feeling, though the word vulnerable floated menacingly through her head. And speaking of unwelcome guests there...

She’s going to be easy prey when you’re finally done with this place, purred Kite’s smug voice in her thoughts. When she looks at you, sometimes you think she can see right through you, and maybe she can, but she won’t raise her blade to you until it’s too late for her.

Raven reached out and gently brushed a loose lock of Summer’s hair out of her face. She was a loyal warrior; she listened to her leader without contradiction...even if she felt no compulsion at all to obey. 

Yeah, you see? She’s already baring her throat to you. She’s throwing her life away just like every other dumb kid in that place. Might as well be to you. 

Even so, for once in her life, she wished that she would just be quiet. That everything would just stop, if only for a little while, so she could feel right staying where she was. It was comfortable here, it was soft and warm here. Summer was here. It felt as natural as her own heartbeat for Summer to be here.

She realized that she didn’t know what she would do if her partner were gone, that she emphatically did not want to leave her side. The realization did not come sweetly, or stunningly; it was a quick, icy shock to her system, like the sudden awareness that you were not alone in the forest, and something was about to pounce on your back.

Whatever that something might be, now wasn’t the time to think too deeply about it, Raven decided. Trying to focus on the better, simpler things, it would be easier to doze off. She only registered that she had done exactly that when the door opened again, her eyes flew open, and the room was even darker around them.

“Holy shit,” said Qrow’s silhouette in the doorway. “I didn’t think it’d be that much like it is at home!”

“Shut up,” Raven hissed, indicating Summer. “She’s sleeping!”

“Sorry, sorry...” both boys mumbled as they slipped inside, carrying trace scents of alcohol and sweat with them. She could hear more tired footsteps in the hall outside as Qrow stage-whispered, “But yeah, you guys got out at just the right time. I think like ten people got suspended.”

Tai made a piteous noise as he poked at an unfortunately large stain on the suit jacket slung over his arm. Raven couldn’t see it terribly well from here, but she figured ‘somebody else’s drying vomit’ wasn’t too bad a guess. “My dad’s suit...”

“Don’t worry about it,” Raven sighed. “We’ll teach you how to wash it out in the morning. Did you guys have fun anyway?”

Tai and Qrow paused in removing their respective hair tie and regular tie to glance at each other, and after a second, smiled. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Good. So go to sleep and tell us about it in the morning.” 

Raven started to sink back onto the bed, and realized that Summer had snuggled closer to her in their sleep. Carefully and with some awkwardness, she laid back down beside her, so close now that she could feel her body heat. 

Qrow smirked. “How have you two been doing?”

“Fine.” She glared at him over Summer’s head. “Just fine. Go to bed.”

“Sure, sure...”

Before long, Qrow was face down on his pillow and Tai was snoring peacefully. Raven was the last to fall back asleep, with Summer’s soft breathing in her ears, and their hands brushing together on top of the covers.

~0~

The next morning she was the last to wake up as well, and did so to the powerful aroma of bacon and eggs. Summer presented the dish to her with a noticeable blush and a sheepish smile on her face.

“You know, you didn’t have to do this,” said Raven through a crunchy strip of bacon, sitting cross-legged on her bed. “I know you must be hungover as hell.”

Summer rubbed the back of her head. “I drank a lot of water, so I’m feeling a bit better. And everything that happened last night is really fuzzy, but I knew I had to thank you for it.”

“Mm-hm. And have you learned your lesson about making sure you know what you’re actually drinking?”

“Absolutely.” She held her hand up in a ‘scout’s honor’ pose. “I swear, I will never be betrayed by fruit punch again.”

Raven nodded solemnly. “Excellent.”

Classes didn’t start back up again until Monday, so today was their day of rest. The majority of it was spent lazing around their room, filling each other in on what they’d done last night. (Qrow and Tai high-fived so exuberantly at Raven’s recount that anyone would think they had been the ones that Ozpin had let get away clean.) 

Raven had no reason to expect that anything more would happen this weekend. But then, just as it was starting to get dark, Summer took her hand and led her up to the roof of the building. 

“Uh, Summer? Not that I doubt your good intentions, but what are we doing here?” 

Summer turned around with a grin, keeping a gentle but firm grip on her hand. The rising moon behind her head was golden and full. “I did promise you a dance, didn’t I? I thought I’d fulfill that promise the best way I know how.”

“...Under the moonlight, is that right?” Raven squeezed her hand, unable to keep a small smile of her own off her face. “And I suppose you’ll be taking the lead?”

“I am your leader, after all. Now let me see...Dad always used to start like...”

Summer adjusted her feet, and Raven did her best to match her. Her right hand released Raven’s and rested on her left shoulder, and her left hand quickly replaced it. 

“Put your left hand on my shoulder. Just like that. We’ve got to keep our elbows up like...yeah, perfect. If I’m remembering it right, there’s only six steps to this, so it should be easy. It’s...”

She stepped forward, and Raven stepped back. She stepped to the side, and Raven followed. Their movements were awkward, unsteady, certainly unpracticed. But they were managing perfectly well, as used to one another as they were, and that was a win in Raven’s book. 

Summer’s grin broadened when they completed a full rotation without stepping on each other’s feet. “See, we did it!” 

“All right, so we’re ready for the advanced steps now, right?”

Summer giggled, and started to guide her into another turn, her cloak swishing minutely with the movement. “Let’s just stick with this for now.”

Raven was perfectly content with this. Maybe it had been for the best that their time at the dance had been interrupted. The distant chirping of night birds, the soft click of their boots on the rooftop, the sound of Summer’s voice instructing and encouraging her...she couldn’t think of any music or any place that she would like better.

Without thinking, she tightened her grip, and Summer, as if reading her mind, pulled her in closer. Her partner filled the entirety of her vision, and in her face, her hair, the moonlight glowed.

[theonceoverthinker]

When Will My Life Begin? (Fair Game, 9/?)

“When Will My Life Begin?” 

Summary: Tangled AU. Clover Callows has been confined to a tower for all of his life, and given the threat that his Uncle Tyrian says his semblance poses to his safety, he accepts that fate. It’s the only life he’s ever known, after all. But when he’s offered the opportunity to fulfill his greatest dream after a chance encounter with a thief -- or bandit, as Qrow Branwen insists there’s a difference between the two -- both Clover and Qrow will discover joys that they never knew life could offer them before. AO3

Tumblr: (1) (2) (B1) (3) (4) (B2) (5) (6) (7) (8)

A/N: Hi! I don’t really have a lot to say about this chapter apart from it’s my first time making a chapter that wasn’t really a part of the movie, so that should be fun! Enjoy!

Also, I’m hosting an AMA on the Fair Game Effect Discord all day today as well as tonight (5/31/2020)! Hit me up with questions there! 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Clover Callows had never felt breathless before.

He’d felt all the emotions that were often associated with breathlessness -- awestruckness, shock, anxiety, to name a few. Clover knew emotions could contribute to explaining the ‘why’ of the sensation of breathlessness, but the actual ‘what’ of the sensation beyond a pure biological one escaped him.

However, as Clover started untying his reluctant, but all the same willing guide, he started to feel it just a little. 

Breathlessness…

It took all Clover had in him to ignore soaking in and embracing what breathlessness really felt like in the same way he did with his blankets and pillows on a cold winter’s night.

Still he did ignore the temptation -- there were still things to do before leaving the tower -- but he was fine with that. After all, Clover knew there would be more to come of the feeling very soon, and he couldn’t wait to give it all the attention it deserved.

Clover had to hand it to himself -- his weapon-making skills weren’t pretty, but where they failed aesthetically, they more than made up for it in their top notch utility. He’d never had a real chance before to utilize Kingfisher’s line in such a way as it had over the past few hours, but when push came to shove, the fishing rod accomplished its many tasks marvelously, and given the way Qrow didn’t massage his wrist and ankles when he was finally freed of the line, it did its job while also making sure Qrow was never in pain while confined in its line. 

No matter what would come to pass on this journey, there had to be something to be said for that.

As Qrow stood up, now free of Kingfisher’s embrace, he stretched. 

“Never thought I’d be so happy to be standing,” he mumbled as he arched his back. 

Clover opened his mouth to chastise Qrow for mumbling, but closed it. 

Of all the family traits that he got from Uncle Tyrian, why was that the one that decided to show itself?

“The trek to the kingdom is about a day’s trip from here, maybe a little less if we’re lucky,” Qrow said. Clover gave Qrow a careful look, reminding himself that Qrow clearly had no idea about his semblance. 

It was going to be okay.

Qrow started at Clover’s hesitant look, obviously not understanding the reason for it. 

“What?” he asked, both defensively and exasperatedly, much in the same way Raven squawked when Clover suggested they do something silly or weird. 

If it weren’t for his most recent thoughts, Clover might have laughed at that.

“Good. That’s good to hear,” Clover said, ignoring Qrow’s question and focusing on maintaining a sense of seriousness once more. “You will indeed serve well as my guide.”

Qrow didn’t look fully convinced, but thankfully, he didn’t look fully unconvinced either. He just muttered something under his breath and continued stretching.

Suddenly though, he stopped. 

Something obviously caught his eye, and Clover knew exactly what it was.

“I’m gonna be needing that,” Qrow said, pointing to where he was looking at -- the other end of the tower where his scythe and its shielding sheath rested against the wall. Clover couldn’t help but narrow his eyes skeptically. “What?” Qrow continued, his tone strong and defensive. “I’ve got to be able to defend myself out there. I already told you I was being chased.”

Clover sighed, gesturing over to where Qrow’s weapon was, allowing Qrow to take it into his possession once more. 

If Clover was being honest with himself, he wasn’t excited at the prospect of giving a human a weapon. After all, as Uncle Tyrian had told him so many times before, half of a human’s strength came from their weapons. However, in addition to his confidence that Qrow didn’t know his semblance, eliminating many of Clover’s more prominent worries, Clover knew that if Qrow was going to take him to see the lights, he needed two things. 

First, as Qrow himself said, he needed a means of defending himself. If the world outside his tower was dangerous for him, it was no doubt dangerous for Qrow too. No matter what he thought of outsiders, he could never deny one protection. After all, he wasn’t about to leave Kingfisher, and he’d never ask Uncle Tyrian to leave the tower without his blades, and so he would allow Qrow the use of his weapon. 

Second, as anxious as it felt for Clover to do so, he needed to give Qrow at least some of his trust. Of course, he wasn’t going to divulge to Qrow just anything, especially the secret of his semblance -- he was lucky that Qrow didn’t already know it, and he wasn’t about to compromise that information any time soon -- but given the skills Clover had already displayed towards Qrow with Kingfisher as well as the leverage he held over Qrow, allowing Qrow the use of his weapon was a reasonable risk to take and bit of trust to give. Besides, Qrow had let him decide whether or not he’d get to use his weapon. That earned him a bit of the trust he knew he should return in kind.

Additionally, Clover had to admit that while he didn’t spare Qrow’s weapon as much thought as Qrow himself and his intentions for Qrow, he did find the weapon interesting all the same, and a chance to see it in action was a temptation hard to ignore.

A scythe...it was so strange…

He wanted to know, and maybe now was a good time to ask, given the small provision of trust he’d given Qrow.

Clover leaned back towards the nearest wall. He crossed one leg over the other while pretending to focus on his nails rather than Qrow, so as to appear as nonchalant as possible. “So why a scythe?” He asked, careful to keep a casual tone. “Weird choice of a weapon. Why not a sword, or a blade?” When he was finally done, he cautiously turned to look at Qrow.

Qrow gave him a look that screamed just how unimpressed and unfooled by Clover’s scheme he was. 

“Mr. Fishing Rod is telling me that my weapon choice is weird?” he snorted, slinging his scythe’s scabbard over his shoulder. 

Clover once more tried to feign a sense of casualness. “Just curious, you know?”

“Looks like it’s time for me to make a deal of my own. Give me my satchel back and I’ll tell you all about my scythe.”

Clover smirked at him, this time needing to fake nothing about his disposition. “Not a chance, Qrow.”

Qrow glared at him for half a beat before sighing, allowing it to dissolve into something more neutral, but still curious. “Okay, well then why don’t you tell me about that fishing rod of yours first?”

Clover smirked, proud that his weapon had managed to impress someone from the outside world as much as it impressed Qrow. 

“Kingfisher is unexpected,” Clover answered, unable to keep the boasting tone out of his voice. “Whenever I’ve been told or read about weapons, everyone always has swords, or knives, or arrows. But would anyone think of a fishing rod? I don’t think so. Gives me an edge in combat. Clearly worked on you.”

Qrow gave him a light sneer. “I was distracted, and you got lucky. I promise you, it won’t happen again.” He then scoffed, his vicious look once again disappearing. 

Gods, there was that word again. ‘Lucky.’

How did someone who knew nothing about his semblance keep stumbling right into it?

That just wasn’t fair.

Then again, that was Clover’s semblance for him -- it gave a little, and took a little.

Just his luck.

Clover coughed, careful as to not alert Qrow’s suspicions again. If Qrow thought anything strange of it, he didn’t say nor show it.

“Interesting,” Qrow said, nodding. “Well, it looks a little crude, but honestly, not bad.”

Clover smirked, proudly. He’d almost wanted to say thank you, but then remembered that he was owed a story, too.

“Your turn,” he said. 

Qrow took out Harbinger and signaled with his hand for Clover to take a step back, a suggestion Clover took with little prompting. Once he did, Qrow swung Harginbers blade, causing it to double in size. 

Blown away, Clover was pretty sure his jaw fell all the way to his knees.

Qrow looked so smug as he smirked in response to the awestruck expression. 

That did the job of taking Clover out of his trance to roll his eyes at him, though only for a moment as his focus quickly returned to Qrow’s weapon.

“This,” Qrow said, “is Harbinger, and it is so much better than any sword in the world. Scythes as a whole are more versatile and cover more ground than most swords, but Harbinger also folds in on itself, is good for climbing, and best of all, scares the shit out of anyone who messes with me.” In that moment, Qrow’s smirk turned just the slightest bit menacing. 

Clover had to admit that for a second, Harbinger’s latter purpose was definitely working on him. However, it was only a second all the same, and Clover was quick to brush it off.

“I know the difference between a threat and a bluff,” Clover shot back, “and that was most certainly a bluff.” Qrow’s sneer reformed. “But your weapon’s pretty nice. No match for Kingfisher, but nice all the same.” 

Qrow sighed, matching the eye roll Clover gave him earlier with one of his own as he folded up and sheathed Harbinger once more. He then looked intently at Clover, who immediately started feeling very uncomfortable.

“What?” Clover asked, unable to keep all of the hesitance in his voice at bay.

“You need an outfit change,” Qrow said.

There was a lot Clover figured Qrow might say after their little weapons showdown.

That wasn’t one of those.

“Excuse me?” Clover said slowly, looking over his clothes. 

Did they look bad?

Suddenly, Clover’s cheeks felt all too hot for his liking.

“You’re gonna stick out like a sore thumb in that getup. I don’t want that, and more importantly for you, something tells me you don’t want that, either.” Clover opened his mouth to feign a denial, but Qrow continued before he could say anything. “You’re not the only one who can spot some fishy business. Guy lives alone in a secret tower, or at least, almost all alone if your table’s any indication, and doesn’t know his way to the kingdom capital. There’s gotta be a reason for that.” Clover once more tried to give an explanation, but once more, Qrow beat him to the proverbial punch. “Don’t worry,” he continued, his hands up in a surrendering fashion, “I’m not gonna ask. You’ve got your business, and I’ve got mine. But still, if you’ve got something else, I’d recommend you change, if not today, then at least for when we get to the capital tomorrow. I think it’s safe to say that we could both do without the extra attention.” 

Clover took in Qrow’s words. 

He...wasn’t wrong...at all.

That somewhat disturbed him.

All the same though, Qrow was right -- he did need a change of clothes if he wanted to blend in once they got to town. While Clover was okay enough breaking his uncle’s greatest rule this one time in his life, he wasn’t about to take any extra risks to his safety if he could help it.

Clover nodded, more to himself than to Qrow, and then turned to Raven. 

“Watch him,” he ordered, much to Qrow’s clear dismay as conveyed by an overly loud groan from him.

He went to his closet and looked at another of his favorite outfits. The colors were more earthy. He’d probably fit in fine enough with them on, so he stuffed them into a bag and slung the bag over his shoulder to change into tomorrow. 

Clover wasn’t surprised when he turned back to see Qrow trying in vain to find his satchel and failing miserably while Raven mockingly squawked at him, as beside herself with laughter as a bird could possibly be. As Qrow turned to him, Clover smirked at his failed attempts at ending their deal prematurely.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Qrow said, shrugging.

“I can,” Clover said in a matter-of-fact fashion, “but you’ve caught me in a good mood, so I won’t.” Clover then pat the bag behind him. “All good to go,” he said to both of them, right before leaning down to pick up Raven and place her on his shoulder.

“Oh great,” Qrow muttered. “The bird is coming?”

Clover smiled, giving Raven an affectionate scratch on her neck. “Of course she’s coming. Raven’s my best friend.”

Qrow sighed tiredly, massaging the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “There is not a single thing about you that makes sense, muscles.”

Clover shot him a deadpan look at the reemergence of his nickname.

Was ‘Clover’ really that hard to use?

For Gods’ sake, it was the same amount of syllables as ‘muscles!’

He ignored it. Perhaps he’d just have to find a nickname for Qrow.

Yeah, that’s exactly what he’d do.

But right now, the nickname could wait.

“I’m heading down,” Qrow grumbled, taking his scythe out of its sheath and sitting on the window sill, seemingly planning his trip down the tower. 

Clover realized he had to do the same thing now.

This was so exciting!

Kingfisher’s presence as a key role in his descention was obvious. Even without the stone base, he could probably still configure the pulley to work for him by making it just act as a hook for Kingfisher. The more Clover worked out the plan, the more confident he became that it could be done. After all, while he was larger than his uncle, the stone base drastically cut down on the weight needed for him to be safely lowered, and Clover rose and lowered himself with just Kingfisher plenty of times before while playing and training. All he would have to do was put on his leather gloves to protect his hands as he fell -- easy enough.

It would work.

It would all work.

Qrow crossed over to the other side of the tower, and Clover instantly heard the now somewhat familiar sound of his scythe clanging against the structure. 

Clover went over to the windowsill and looked at Qrow, but Qrow didn’t return his gaze, clearly too focused on his climb down. He then looked to Raven, who did meet his gaze. They exchanged a smile. It was obvious that Raven was looking forward to this adventure just as much as Clover was.

Who could blame her?

“Hold onto my collar, nice and tight,” he said, nuzzling his head against hers. Once he was done, Raven looped her unmarred wing above and under Clover’s collar, giving him a squawk when she was done.

Clover took out Kingfisher and locked its hook into the pulley, staring at it in awe as he fully released its line and looped part of it around his waist. For once, the pulley was going to do its job, but only for him. 

It was unbelievable.

He looked towards the ground outside the tower. It was a long way down, but the terrain was one he knew well after cumulative days of looking down and across from his window and years of dreaming about what it would be like to experience the very thing he was just about to do.

“You coming, muscles?” Qrow called from below.

Oh, he was.

With a last deep breath of his home taken, Clover jumped off the windowsill and out of the tower.

Falling was a rush. The air slammed into his face, and the only way Clover could hope to describe it was like a noiseless version of Raven’s loudest squawks, but amplified to almost unreal proportions. It was cold, it was ceaseless, it was almost menacing in how the wind’s roar sounded vaguely menacing as Clover continued his descent. Clover loved every second of it. 

As he fell, he couldn’t help but release cries of joy as his laughter painted the skies with a beam that not even the sun could hope to match in power or size.

He could vaguely see and hear Qrow in the half of a second he passed him during his fall, but needless to say, Qrow seemed surprised by his choice of climbing strategies.

Well, as long as it didn’t mess with his navigation skills, it was certainly nice to leave his guide always guessing what new tricks he had up his sleeve.

As Clover fell from twenty feet from the tower’s base to ten, and from ten feet to five, he realized that it was time to execute his landing strategy.

He pulled himself up ever so slightly with an upward tug of Kingfisher’s line, allowing the impact of his fall to be absorbed before he ever risked feeling the pain of it.

The rest of the drop was only another couple of feet.

Clover could do it.

All at once, he fully let go of the line and fell the rest of the way.

The impact of the world at his feet was softer than Clover ever expected it to be.

Clover, speechless, allowed himself to just feel the sensation of it all.

Thin, tiny wisps of grass tickled his toes and the dew as well as the water from the nearby pond sank below the grass into the wetted dirt, covering the balls of Clover’s feet that sank into the earth below him.

Finally, his fall was done.

Finally, his feet were on the ground.

Finally, Clover was really, truly outside his tower.

Despite all the air that had flown in his face on the way down as well as the fresh air that now surrounded him, as those facts came to light, Clover, for the first time in his entire life, felt what it was like to be truly and fully breathless.

[katcadecascade]

Luck Will Fly

Fair Game fic I already posted on ao3 and decided to post here

it’s basically a baby bird acquisition oneshot

-

“Um, Clover?” The young huntress began and immediately Clover has a tight breath stuck in him.

Ruby Rose is known for impeccable leadership and clever strategies that rely heavily upon teamwork. As per of her skills, she has an air of confidence and hope.

Right now in the academy’s grand hallways where Clover was simply making his way to the kitchen, Ruby approaches him with a frown.

Despite the short amount of time knowing her, that frown means something bad is happening to a love one.

He instinctively has the urge to go find Qrow.

“Is something wrong?” He asks and his old teachers would reprimand him for speaking with such a tone. Captains are meant to be collected and stable. Yet the thought of anything bad happening to the dark haired man sends spikes into the Ace Leader’s chest.

The young adult, still a teenager to Clover’s mind, sends him a freaked surprise that’s shifts into confusion, “No, I don’t believe so. I’m wondering if you’ve seen Uncle Qrow lately.”

He wants to say that every time he sees Qrow, he’s beautiful and stunning and takes his breath away. But this is Qrow’s niece, those thoughts are highly inappropriate to share out loud.

That and as much as Clover dislikes admitting, he hasn’t seen Qrow lately.

“Not really,” Clover said, “He’s the first one to leave the meetings and so far has denied my invitations.” Ruby raises a brow at that last word. A flushed heat crawled up his neck as he quickly clarifies, “Invitations to tea or game nights, that is.”

“Uh huh, yeah he hasn’t been hanging out with any of us lately,” Ruby tapped her chin, “but it’s always the same excuse.”

“I gotta take care of something,” Clover quotes, recalling the hurried tone the huntsman used. “I assumed it was for your or your teams’ sake.”

She shrugged, “I thought it was about you.”

Clover blinked, not at all understanding how she connected those dots.

Because throughout all this time, Clover wants those dots connected, he desperately wants Qrow to give him some sort of sign that he likes him back. They flirt at each other left and right and Clover hopes for something else. He wants his advice for Qrow to get through that brain of his.

Qrow’s always deflecting compliments, shrugging off his self-worth but he’s been doing less so each time Clover manages to get that soft vulnerable look on his face, like he’s no longer hiding in a shadow of doubt and misery.

But right now, from the sounds of it, Qrow is distancing himself from everyone.

Clover didn’t question further, never reading anything to worry from the distracted look in Qrow’s face.

“Whatever this ‘something’ is,” Clover said, “it’s keeping his entire attention. Any idea what it could be, Miss Rose?”

The girl strokes her chin as if she had a long beard, her foot tapping along, “Hmm, if he’s taking care of this something for so long and in secret then maybe there’s a pattern to follow. What else has he been doing?”

The Ace Leader recalled the past week.

Unfortunately (is it though?) he spent quite a lot of it staring at Qrow’s ass.

Look, Clover can be a weak man, give him some slack.

Aside from that, he has seen Qrow always heading towards the gardens but when he passes by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the luxurious garden is empty.

“I think I know where he is,” he said, already walking with the huntress by his side.

“Oh I caught him slicing apples the other day,” Ruby brought up as it is the most important clue, “He always does that when I was younger even though he prefers to just eat to the core.”

It’s a short walk to the academy’s garden, tended daily by both students and staff to create a crisp and clean grass lawn. Flower bushes and beds are symmetrically lines down for sidewalks and a path leading towards a gazebo and groves. Along the way there are stone benches under the shade of tall trees, evenly trimmed and full of leaves.

Sure enough, the garden is cleared but the two leaders easily spot a bench with a napkin with apple slices.

“Huh, maybe we missed him,” Ruby wondered reaching down for a slice.

But then suddenly something small and dark swoops down from the tree, landing right next to the snack.

A black crow cawed at them.

Clover tilted his head, glancing at the bird then up to the tree. High in the branches, it’s a bit hard to spot a nest of twigs.

“Is Qrow known to leave out food for birds?” He asked and then he noticed Ruby has the crow on her arm. “Wow, it must really like you.”

Ruby beamed, gently petting the bird’s head, “I know.”

There was a genuine look of joy on the girl, reminding Clover that once upon a time he was like that, back when he was bright and determined to make the world a better place. He still has that determination, still is joyful, but even he has to admit that with experience and age comes a sense of doubt he can’t fight off.

Which is why Clover is happy to have the Beacon huntsmen here, they all bring in a new found hope and support. He won’t lie, he was never one hundred percent prepared when he and his team entered General Ironwood’s inner circle. The new and magical revelation still shocks him, so teaming up with Qrow and his kids were a lucky sign in Clover’s eyes.

Speaking of eyes, there is a glint of mischief sparkles in the girl’s silver eyes, a teasing smile on her lips, “I bet that this crow really likes you too.”

“I don’t have much experience with birds,” he warns as Ruby raises her arm up to get the bird closer to him. A cousin of his had a pet cockatoo, that bird was territorial and picky. It even got a good few pecks at Clover’s fingers.

“Aw,” she whined, still presented the bird up, “but this one is pretty and nice. Right, Clover?”

The crow cawed loudly at Ruby and Clover nearly backed away when the bird’s black feathers ruffled up.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of its feathers puffing up, making it seem bigger and its red eyes tiny. Once the feathers relaxed, Clover gently and slowly reached over to pet the bird.

“Yeah, he’s a very pretty bird.”

Ruby’s grin went big, not that Clover could understand why, he’s too busy petting the bird. Mostly he’s too amazed at how calm and friendly the bird trusts him to pet the wings.

“Would you say that you love the bird?” Ruby innocently batted her eyelashes. He pulled his hand back as the crow suddenly flapped its wings and pecked at Ruby’s arm. “OW! UNCLE QROW!”

“Uh,” Clover dumbly said, “Qrow?”

As Ruby waved her arm up and down, the bird flies up and Clover watches how that tiny black mass grows and what is dropping back down is a handsome man with red eyes and red cheeks.

Qrow is giving his niece a frown that is trying so hard to not be a smile, “Okay I think you have said enough, brat.”

Rubbing her arm, Ruby sticks her tongue out defiantly. In return, Qrow ruffles up her hair.

Meanwhile, Clover is staring with his jaw dropped.

That bird… was it? Wait no wait- magic real, yep, recalling that- but Qrow and crow and pretty birds?

If he had more rational thought (because half his mind is always focused on Qrow) maybe, just maybe, Clover would remember that he has been informed of the existence of magic and wizards and gods and such.

But of course leave it to Qrow Branwen to always leave Clover Ebi senseless and awed.

“So I’m guessing from the look on your face that Jimmy didn’t tell you everything about me.”

“Ahhhhh,” is falling out of his mouth.

Neither man notices the way Ruby is giggling, her eyes darting between them.

Or well, Qrow is at least ignoring her. Every time he glances over to his niece his cheeks flare up in a redness that just wows Clover.

He wants to kiss those cheeks, watch how the pale skin easily shades into red under the faintest of touches. Those red eyes must look gorgeous when vivid emotions take over, freeing the man from any burdens of the world. Clover wishes desperately to have that honor of sending that sense of security and freedom to the dark haired man.

Tiny chirps interrupt the three hunters.

Qrow sighs and with swift, practice motion, feathers dawned on him. His small form picks up an apple slice and he flies to the nest.

Another chirp arises, sounding more pleased, and Qrow returns to the ground, his boots making a thud noise on the landing.

Ruby is on her uncle’s arm with a wide, excited smile, “Is that a bird up there? That’s whose the apples are for? Can we meet it?”

“It’s a ‘her’ and no,” he shakes his head, “She’s too young to fly down yet.”

Staring up, Clover could barely see movement in the nest. Crumbles of apple chunks scatter over the edge and he could see a tiny beak peer over. Miniscule black eyes meet Clover’s and he is startled by the amount of intelligence and curiosity that little creature has.

“She’s all alone?” Somehow Clover regained his voice and this is his first sentence. It’s also not the first time he said that question, tinged with sadden when he reaches the end of a rescue mission.

“Yeah,” Qrow’s own voice echoes something lonely and empathetic, “She’s been crying out each morning but no one came back for her. I finally found her and,” slowly, almost unnoticed, Qrow had Ruby under his arm, “I couldn’t leave her.”

Their red capes swayed with the gentle breeze, creating a picture of wings wrapped around them.

Ruby smiles up to her uncle, “Does she have a name?”

He shrugged, “I don’t exactly speak bird but I think she’s too young to remember if she was even named.”

A forlorn gaze takes over those red eyes, a familiar sadness tugging onto old handles sunken into the huntsman’s heart.

“Well I think she’s lucky to have you,” Clover comments, sending the other man a wink. It’s become too much of a habit to stop now, not that Clover wants to stop winking at Qrow. Still, it gets Qrow flustered before he could avoid the compliment.

“That’s it!” Ruby gasp, her whole body jittering, “Her name will be Lucky!”

Clover grins so wide it hurts.

Qrow groans.

“I- Oh Brothers no, Ruby, kiddo, no.”

“I think it’s a fitting name.”

“Of course you do, Lucky Charm.”

“Nope,” he shakes his head, “that can’t be my nickname anymore. Otherwise I’ll be very confused.”

Qrow scoffed, “What am I going to feed you apple slices?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Clover finished with a wink.

Qrow groans, covering his face with his hands.

“Can I feed Lucky?” Ruby asks earnestly, already holding up an apple slice.

Her uncle uncovers his face, taking the slice, “Sorry, kiddo, she hasn’t met people yet. Young birds obverses a lot before they want to get closer. I kind of have to teach her the ropes.”

Ruby lightly punches his shoulder, “Then it’s a good thing she has the best teacher in the world.”

Qrow absolutely preens under the praise, so much like any other time Clover compliments him. He still scratches the back of his neck, tugging a few strands out of place. Clover has the urge to brush them back into an even shape, feel the heat in Qrow’s neck.

“You got everything you need for Lucky?” Clover checks, “We don’t need to gather up worms, do we?”

The caped duo naturally gags at the thought.

“Please don’t tell me you have worm bait, you fisherman,” Qrow pleas.

“Alright I won’t tell you.”

“Gross,” Ruby insightfully adds.

“I got this covered.” The shapeshifter assures, “Her flight and tail feathers just need to grow in and then she’ll be all set.”

Without another word, Qrow jumps up and a crow is flapping about. He flies higher up to the nest and he and Lucky chirp at each other.

Clover still can’t believe the transformation happened right before his eyes. It was so smooth and flawless to be considered a trick of the eye. Nope it was real magic, not something like a relic where it is basically in stasis, but magic as a muscle or a performance. It was definitely eye opening, not that Qrow doesn’t already do that.

For precautionary measures he takes a seat on the bench. “So, right, magic, that’s still a thing?”

The young huntress has the decency to silently laugh at him, “Yep, it is totally a thing.”

“And Qrow’s able to do this because?” Clover trailed off, not sure if it’s a sensitive topic or not.

A clouded look goes over Ruby’s face, “It apparently happened before I was born. Only knew about it a few months ago.” She sits beside the Ace Op, letting her toes tap together in an offbeat rhythm. “But now that I think back, a lot of things make sense. I would find feathers on his cape and oh yeah, he gets really distracted by shiny stuff.”

An undignified squawk is heard above.

“Really now?” Clover teases, “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

This time the squawk sounds flustered.

Spending the rest of their down time in the garden becomes Clover’s favorite thing for the next few weeks.

It’s a quiet thing, birdwatching in a way as Qrow is the one in charge of the actual care taking for little Lucky. Since Ruby and Clover knew so little on birds, Qrow often shared bits of stuff he learned about throughout his experience of being a crow.

The way Qrow described his new perspective of the world, a place so big and new. He’s able to see places untouched by man, high tree tops or steep skyscraper tops. Suffice to say, the huntsman does not fear heights.

A new energy washed over Qrow as he rambles about stuff he has kept secret. Ruby is just as eager to listen to her uncle’s stories. Clover feels honored for being trusted with it.

The man is just so relaxed in his element, surrounded by nature with a bright eyed youngling oohing and awing at right moments in his stories. Tales of a crow plucking shiny accessories out of propitious folks (it was later returned by the way) and getting into places birds normally don’t have access too.

Clover doesn’t know Beacon or Signal teachers by name but apparently Qrow was a handful for them.

Sometimes Ruby doesn’t join them in the garden, leaving Clover to wait for the crow to finish his bird duties.

Today it seems like Lucky wants to spread her wings. Her chirps forming into a song that Qrow has taught her.

“She’s getting restless,” Qrow rubs his neck, slumping down on the ground so that his back rests against the bench. “I… I think it really is almost time for…”

“For her to leave the nest?” Clover lightly teases, he understands the sudden solemnness that is clouding on the other man but he’ll try his best to clear it. “Lucky will be able to fly with you.”

Qrow clenches his hands over his knees, “That’s not always a good thing. She’ll get hurt just like-“

“Hey,” he moves down to sit on Qrow’s level, getting dirt on his white uniform is the last thing on his mind as Clover takes Qrow’s hand, “She’s in your care. She’ll always want to return back to you.”

They’re no longer talking about a bird, not when their last mission had a close call with Ruby apparently pulling a Yang. (The nieces just have a knack of almost getting eaten alive by big Grimm)

Qrow won’t meet his eyes, “Lucky will eventually find a real flock to be with. I’m just temporary.”

“No you’re not,” he states, reaching over to hold Qrow’s face. His red eyes still hold some lingering doubt. “You raised her and while I don’t know much about birds but I know they’re smart. She’ll remember you for your kindness, patience, and most importantly your heart.”

It almost hurts Clover to see Qrow act like he’s never been told he’s all of those things before. He may not ever know the lengths of Qrow’s pain but he wants to be there for him, to remind him that he really is a good person.

Qrow still stares with vulnerability that is so pure and sacred. Clover will cherish this sight.

“I…” Qrow begins but it’s like something is stuck in his throat, “Clover I…” Hearing his name uttered so softly sent a shiver down Clover’s spine. “Yeah, I guess, yeah Lucky will remember all of that.”

Both have forgotten how their hands interlock, a firm grasp as they hear chirping continue.

Oh yeah, chirping, it’s getting louder.

Instantly both men snap their eyes up to see Lucky flapping her wings, her feet gripping the edge of the nest.

Clover’s breath is stuck, his entire being trained to help and protect but Qrow squeezes his hand.

Completely immune to Clover’s tension and anxiety, Qrow actually sighs with relief. Sadly he smiles, “She really is one restless bird.”

Lucky finally beats her wings in a steady rhythm and jumps off the nest. Next thing Clover knows, that little crow is soaring above their heads.

A new feeling hits Clover like a sucker punch.

Clover wonders if Qrow feels this way every time one of his kids are sent on a mission, this flurry of panic and worry and concern wrapped around a tiny voice that says ‘they’re all grown up and can take care of their selves’.

It feels like a heart attack to be honest.

“Are you okay Clover?”

A gentle hand slides over his cheek, damp.

Oh, Clover belatedly realizes, he’s crying.

“I’m fine,” he tries to say steadily. It comes out wobbly.

Qrow gives him a knowing smile, already whipping the tears away, “Shouldn’t that be my line?”

“Right, right of course,” Clover agrees, already a little embarrassed because why is he crying, it’s Qrow he should be comforting.

He spent weeks watching Qrow take care of Lucky. That baby bird probably doesn’t even know Clover. All Clover really contributed was carrying fruit for them.

Still though, out of curiosity and maybe envy, he complains, “How are you not a sobbing mess?”

“Eh,” Qrow shrugs, “I got all my waterworks out when Ruby dressed up like me for All Hollow’s Eve.”

Rubbing away the rest of his tears, Clover chuckles, “I bet you have that saved on your scroll.”

“What kind of uncle would I be if I didn’t?”

If there’s one thing Qrow loves to brag about, it’s about being Ruby’s and Yang’s super cool uncle. Now after witnessing the vast amount of domesticity coming off of them as of late, Clover sees what he’s missing out on.

Clover could smile a hundred different kinds but none is like the one Qrow dawns at this moment.

It’s a tiny one yet it expresses so much love he has for his family.

A small part of him hopes to be a reason Qrow smiles just as lovingly.

“Hey, look at that,” Qrow points up and while Clover doesn’t want to take his eyes off the man, he looks up to see a familiar crow start circling down to them.

“I told you she’ll return.”

Lucky swoops around and lands on top of Qrow’s knee, chirping like a singer.

Gently, the shapeshifter brushes his fingers against the feathers, a cooing sound coming from the bird. They’re all lost in this moment, carefully watching the how the bird blinks up to them.

Then to Clover’s surprise, Lucky hops over to Clover’s knee.

“Does she know me?” He asks, hesitant and quiet.

Qrow rolls his eyes, “I told you, birds always observe before getting close. She probably knows you as the snack boy.”

The joke doesn’t shake Clover’s apprehension on having such a small and important creature on him. Her eyes are intelligent, completely relaxed with Clover. He takes a chance and carefully raises a hand to pet her.

His hand keeps hesitating, centimeters away from touching her, almost trembling.

“It’s okay,” Qrow whispers, not daring his voice to break the quietness between them, “She trusts you.”

Hearing that confidence in Qrow’s voice is what gets Clover to finally reach Lucky, her feathers so soft under his calloused fingertips.

“She likes me,” he says with such surprise and bubbling joy over this little bird.

His eyes flicker over to Qrow and again there’s a soft look on the dark haired man. He just finds more ways to steal Clover’s heart.

As much as both men want to stay in this moment, Lucky decides her goodbyes are done.

She flaps a few times and then off she flies.

“Are you going after her?”

Clover kind of expected Qrow to take off by now but instead Qrow rejoins their hands. A new glint is in his red eyes as he stares into Clover.

“No, I’m good here.”

[jadekitty777]

Fall For You

*Runs in screaming and slams this down with forty minutes left to go* 

I will not lie that this one is not my best. Time crunch got to me and I kind of rushed this one. Um, but... I finished? 8D

Thank you everyone who has taken the time to read, reblog,or comment on my stories this week! Your support has been greatly appreciated and encouraging. Another thank you goes out to the many of you who inspired me to write some of these stories; they wouldn’t exist if not for you. Finally, a thank you to all the other participants who made such great fics and art this week;  you all are awesome!! 

Day 7: AU

Dedicated to: @tama-negis (I formally apologize though; you deserve something so much better than this)

Rating: K+

Pairing: Qrow/Clover

Word Count: 2.7k

Ao3 Link: Fall For You

Summary: To Qrow, there was no greater feeling in the world than the sensation of flying through the air, nothing but the bar and Clover to rely on.

That's why the fall was so devastating. [Circus AU]

~

“Net check!”

Qrow rolled his eyes as Clover fell backwards off the trapeze platform, saluting as he went. He looked over the edge just to make sure his partner hadn’t died, before shouting down at him, “You know, after two years, that’s decidedly less impressive.”

“Don’t lie. You love it just as much as you love me.” He was too far to actually see if he was winking, but Qrow knew he definitely was.

Rather than respond, he just continued on with the safety check. He gripped at the bar, pulling on it. No give, no worrisome noises. Rigging seemed secure. He took another step back, before doing a running leap off, holding on tight as he traveled over the net until he came to a stop at the center of their stage.

He twisted his body upwards, landing on the top of the bar and swung back and forth lazily, listening carefully to everything above him. During a performance, over the roaring crowd and blasting music, it was impossible to hear any of the small, subtle sounds of the cabling above. So, any out of place screech or worrisome clonk that could imply something was about to give would go completely unheard. But in the near silence of the empty Big Top, he could hear even the tiniest creak of the frame as it bore his weight.

Nothing out of place.

He slipped his feet off the bar, freefalling for a fraction of a second before his arms caught it. Everything held. Just as it had the last two times they’d done the check throughout the day. He thought it was a little excessive, but James was a stickler for routine, and after taking partial ownership of the circus, had immediately enacted the three-check rule.

There were a lot of those kinds of changes the performers of the former “Marvelous Circus of Oz” had to put up with when they officially became partners with James’ “Fabled Ace Ops”. Higher demands on performance training, complete restructuring of acts and teammates, stricter guidelines on fashion. Qrow wasn’t even allowed to wear nail polish anymore.

“You got to be fucking kidding me!” He remembered shouting at his new boss. “What do you think’ll happen Jimmy? Is my polish gonna eat through the bar?”

Ozpin had to pull him aside after that one, practically pleading for him to cooperate. It was hard to continue being pissed off when he had to face his old friend’s weary, desperate eyes. He knew this was a shitty situation, for all of them. But it was either this or all of them be out of a job. So, Qrow let it go and tried his best to play nice.

Though, he supposed as he turned around on the bar to face the platform Clover was once again standing on, not everything that had resulted in the merger was terrible. Sure, he’d been downright hostile when James had first reassigned Raven with Summer’s act and appointed his own star trapeze artist to him – but it didn’t take long for Qrow to warm up to the other man. Clover was like a magnet of good qualities: friendly, confidant, encouraging, honest.

He was also ridiculously attractive, so that was a plus.

Qrow rocked his body, gaining momentum until he could swing himself back over to the platform, securing the bar down. “Alright, we’re good.”

“No, you missed something.” Clover spoke up.

“What?” He looked around, doing a mental catalogue of his checklist. “No, I didn’t. Wha-ah!”

Strong arms wound around his waist, pulling him in and a big, wet sloppy kiss was planted right on his cheek. “You forgot the kiss for good luck.”

Qrow snorted. He didn’t believe in superstition, especially with names like theirs. He had to of gotten every good luck-bad luck comment probably known to the universe. Didn’t mean he wasn’t above teasing about it. “You’re disgusting and a heathen.”

Clover gasped loudly, before whirling them around, letting him go. “Oh Qrow, my love! How could you wound me this way?” He backed up the two steps it took to get back to the edge, hands crossing over the center of his chest. “The pain, it’s just too much to bear! Goodbye cruel world.”

And with another wink, he went back over.

Qrow tried, he really did, but even biting down on his lip didn’t stop the guffaws that escaped as he looked down again. “You’re an idiot!”

“Joke’s on you,” He hollered back triumphantly, “I’m yours!”

Even with the distance between them, he was sure Clover knew he was smiling.

~

The night was going spectacularly well. The audience was receptive and easily emotive. They’d gotten loud cheers for Summer and Raven’s silk dance and wows for Elm and Vine’s high-wire act. It had been a while since they’d had a crowd this good and the rest of the crew was feeling it too, all of them buzzing to get on stage and feed into the energy.

“Alright, Marrow and the kids are finishing up. Qrow and Clover you’re up. Robyn and Tai, get ready to follow.” Oz called as he snaked his way between the teams, popping his top hat back on his head as he went.

“Ah, what a shame that your act will be completely overshadowed by ours.” Robyn taunted. Though she lacked malice, her pride wasn’t unwarranted.

When people thought of circuses, they thought of all the typical acts: animal taming, clowns, trapeze work. No one really thought of fire arrows. It was the only act of its kind in the world, and one that had happened by complete mistake.

Robyn, from James’ crew, was an extremely precise archer – able to split her own arrows and even bounce them off other obstacles and still hit a target’s bull’s-eye. Tai, from their circus, was their fire performer, his talents ranging from being able to spin and juggle batons that were ablaze on either end to swallowing lit torches and breathing plumes of fire upwards like a dragon. Early on into the merger, the two just happened to be practicing by one another, showboating and trying to one up each other on their skills. One thing led to another, and Tai ended up challenging Robyn to shoot through his flames and still hit her target.

It was when she pulled it off, that the idea to combine their acts was born.

Qrow wouldn’t deny it made for a hell of a sight – but that didn’t mean he’d let her get away with her ribbing without giving back a bit of his own, “Please. Ours will be so good, they won’t be able to get it off their minds long enough to pay attention to yours.”

“Hah, you wish!”

Clover, smug as can be, threw an arm over his shoulders as he added, “Now Robyn, you know wishes are for stars, of which Qrow and I happen to be.”

“And they say I blow a lot of smoke.” Tai intervened with a wave of his hand, “Get on outta here you two before you end up holding up the whole show.”

Anything more that they might have said was interrupted by the sound of laughter floating in with Marrow, Ruby and Yang as they returned backstage. The three were propped up on each other’s shoulders like a human Leaning Tower of Pisa. Qrow and Clover were quick to assist the younger man bearing their combined weight, helping the younger girls down on their feet.

He didn’t have a lot of time, but Qrow still took a second to ruffle Ruby’s hair. “Good job kiddo.”

The eight-year old gave him a tooth-gaped smile, saying, “Break a leg Uncle Qrow!”

“In thirteen places.” He promised, before following his trapeze partner out into the darkness of the stage.

“And now, it’s the moment you all knew was coming. Introducing our Flying Aces, Qrow Branwen and Clover Ebi!” Ozpin’s voice boomed from where he stood in the center of the stage.

Qrow linked his arm with Clover’s just as the spotlight moved to capture them, both of them raising up their free hands up high as if catching the applause from the audience. So close, it was obvious how similar their clothing was – himself in a black leotard that blended into red and Clover in a complementary white to green one. Though turned from the crowd, on their backs was a design choice Qrow himself had insisted upon: Wings to follow the color gradient.

They were the Flying Aces after all.

Oz continued with his announcement, but having heard it so many times before, he mostly tuned it out as he and Clover split from one another, each of them climbing up the ladders to the platforms opposite each other. As the final words from their ringleader faded, the lights below went out, bringing all the attention skyward.

Qrow unhooked the bar that he’d secured only hours ago. The music started to roll, but the moment he went swinging off the platform, it was as if everything else faded. There was nothing except him, the bar and the sensation of wind and weightlessness as he turned his body around, hooking his knees around the edges and hanging down free. As his movement slowed, he eased his grip, gravity bringing him down into a short drop before his ankles caught onto the edge instead. After another few moments, he unhooked his left, all of his weight now on just the right leg as he let his free limbs spread out wide like a taxidermist’s greatest prize.

Mostly he was a distraction, performing small tricks while Clover got into place, throwing himself off his own platform to gain momentum so he could prepare to catch him. He knew his partner was ready when he signaled him with a salute. Qrow pulled himself up so his legs could dangle once again, pushing himself into motion once more. At the apex of their swings, he let go, Clover gripping his wrists easily. They flew together briefly, before he returned him to the bar, Qrow doing an easy spin midair to catch it.

It was his second leap that earned them applause, this time somersaulting twice in midair before being captured. Even over all the white noise in his ears, he could make out Clover’s exhilarated chuckles and a breathless laugh left him as well. This was something they shared: The excitement of the flight, the adrenalin born from hanging freely nearly thirty feet in the air, the thrill brought on with each completed trick as their routine built together.

The joy of doing it all with someone he loved.

Without question, it was that last one that made him do what he did next.

Qrow’s hands clasped onto the bar as he was thrown back to it, swinging his legs up and fitting them between his grip so he could hang upside down again, this time prepared to grab the other man so they could move into the second part of their act.  Clover took his turn to fly over, doing a flip of his own.

But Qrow didn’t move into position for the catch.

Hours later, when asked, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyone precisely what it was that warned him – maybe he heard something snap. Maybe he noticed a change in his balance. Or maybe it was just a feeling in his gut. But somehow, he knew.

So, for the first time since they’d perfected the move, Qrow missed.

Clover went flying one way.

As the rigging broke above him, Qrow went the other way, further and out of control.

The freefall sensation wasn’t unfamiliar to him – he’d dropped thousands of times before. On those rare cases it was unintentional, he was usually even talented enough to make it look like part of the act.

The white-hot agony that laced through him as something impacted his side with the force of a bullet was new though, unexpected in its ferocity.

It was all his mind could grasp at until he was bouncing off the edge of the net and the ground rushed up to meet him.

~

Incessant beeping roused him.

His first thought was he immediately wanted to go back to bed. Whatever the hell he had been doing must have been brutal, because his body ached all over, particularly centralized in his shoulder and hip and his stomach was especially throbbing.

Qrow made a noise in the back of his throat, trying to raise his arm to shut off the alarm, only to find it oddly weighted. His head flopped to the left and he grumbled, “C’ver, ‘larm.”

Suddenly the weight lifted, still there but entirely focused on his wrist. Oh, it was a hand.

“Qrow? Hey babe, you awake?” Clover’s voice coming from above him rather than beside him was what finally got him to open his eyes.

Immediately he realized he wasn’t home in the trailer when instead of just more bed and a window, there was a machine next to him and a wall a few feet away. The machine was the thing making the noise. His gaze rolled around, taking in the IV stand next and gathered a pretty good guess on where he was.

A shift made him look towards the figure hovering over him. His partner looked like a wreck, expression pale and drawn. Dark circles were laden under sleepless eyes.

“Hey.” Soft as his voice, Clover’s hand brushed through his hair, “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” Qrow replied, swallowing around his tongue which felt oddly swollen. “Heavy.”

“Yeah that’s probably the anesthesia wearing off.”

“Anesthesia?” That didn’t sound promising.

His partner took a moment to pull the chair behind him closer, sitting down right at his bedside. The hand still holding his squeezed lightly. “Do you remember what happened?”

Shifting through his own head, vague memories of spotlights and soaring through the air came back to him – as well as a stomach-dropping sensation that wasn’t meant to be there. “I fell.”

Clover’s voice shook a little, “Yeah, you did.”

There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask, but the most important one came out first, “How bad am I?”

“You’re gonna be okay. You, have a few fractures but, nothing major broke.” He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Your stomach’s a mess though. When the cabling gave out, part of it snapped back and hit you. It ripped right into your intestines. You were in surgery for six hours.”

Qrow took that in sluggishly, focusing mostly on the first part. It meant he could still perform. The rest of it could wait for more thought another day.

So, he moved on. “What ‘bout you?”

“Hm?”

“Where were you when I fell?”

“I, uh,” Clover’s laughed, but it sounded a bit wrong. “Down on the net. I was uh, flying over to you and you just didn’t catch me. I think you knew something was wrong, ‘cause Summer said you never even reached for me.”

The significance of that hit him instantly. There were a few universal rules any trapeze worker knew – the topmost being just how vital it was for the flyer to swing after a catch. The human skeleton was a surprisingly delicate thing, and the arc of motion that followed alleviated all of the pressure the body underwent from the flight and drop. But, if the flow of motion was hindered or stopped all together, say by a snapping cable line, all that pressure suddenly didn’t have anywhere go and instead the force would compact onto the body.

At best, the sudden whiplash would have injured Clover’s spine, maybe bruised an organ or two.

At worst, it would have broken his neck.

His partner lifted his hand, lips pressing against the back of his skin as he whispered reverently, “You saved my life.”

Qrow let out a slow breath, mouth pulling up in a smirk. “Nah. I just took falling for you real literally.”

This time, when Clover laughed, it was much more genuine, even as tears finally flowed from his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

His reply was a victory: “Joke’s on you. I’m yours.”

With no distance between them, neither of them could miss the other’s smile.

[homogrimoire]

Ego Ollor od Esiasch Coronzon

Fair Game Week 2020: Day 7 - AU / Free Day (Priest/Demon AU)

Read it on AO3 here.

Qrow Branwen, priest of a small chapel in the middle of nowhere, was content with his life as it was. Bad luck followed him all his life, as he was born cursed by an ancient magic that not even Oz could undo. The only things he could say were good in his life were his nieces, but even then, he felt that he had to be careful. He didn’t want them to be victims of his existence. They would visit every once and a while, which was perfect in his opinion. They would stay long enough to have fun together, but not long enough to where anything seriously bad could happen. He supposes that getting the opportunity to stay at the chapel was also nice. He was given the opportunity to stay there by an old friend, headmaster of a prestigious academy. Needless to say, he agreed without a second thought. Read to some people from a book and answer their questions two days out of the week? Easy. Be away from people so he couldn’t harm anyone? Help the headmaster with some occult mystery now and then so he could finally feel useful? It was practically a dream come true.

As the years went by, he grew closer to the few people that would show up, especially a young farmhand named Oscar. He reminded him of his nieces. He grew to understand the hope the gods could give and inspire, even if he himself believed them to be cruel and uncaring. His nieces visited less frequently, but called much more often, which he was alright with. Some of his hair began to grey, which he quickly grew to like. It made him look more mature. His experiments, while they were almost always met with some complication, always helped Oz with something. He was as content as he could be, save for one minor thing.

Qrow was lonely. Sure, people came to the chapel on a regular basis, but it was hardly personal, save Oscar. He always made sure to save him some extra sweets, even if he was a teenager now. Ruby and Yang called nearly every other day, bar when they were on a mission, but made sure to visit their favorite uncle at least once a month. Tai called every now and then and would also sometimes visit. However, Qrow realized just how lonely he was when his sister showed up out of the blue. Instead of immediately throwing blessed water at her and muttering a prayer from the book, he actually considered inviting her in. He settled for chatting outside, so that there could at least be witnesses. It went better than expected, but that wasn’t saying too much.

Oz, of course, called frequently, chatting about the magical experiments or sharing the latest gossip with each other. One call proved to be pivotal in Qrow’s life. The day was already eventful. Oscar confessed that he had a crush on one of the other farmhands, hired from a nearby city, he heard, which wasn’t a sin in any book, but Qrow didn’t really care too much about that. As an honorary uncle and father figure, he was mostly just curious about the crush and proud that Oscar was growing up. … Even if it meant Oscar would leave. It was making Qrow feel lonely again. The last time he had a crush, the kid wasn’t even born. Needless to say, he was feeling a bit down when Ozpin called. The moment Qrow answered the call, he knew something big happened, but by his tone, it wasn’t anything bad.

“So, Qrow, I believe that I may have found something that may be of interest to you.” Oz began.

“Mhmm.” Qrow responded, slouched in a chair.

“I’ve found what I believe to be the instructions for a ritual that may help your bad luck problem.” Qrow couldn’t see it, but he knew Oz was smiling.

“You’ve got my attention.” He said, quickly sitting up. “Tell me more about it.”

“From what I have learned, it may have some relation to the brother gods. Its incantations are certainly very old as well. It’s all a straight forward. It just has some… unique ingredients. I’ve procured some of the rarer ones for you, They should be there in a week’s time. Until then, I’ll leave you to find the more common ingredients. I’ll send you the instructions and list of ingredients right now.”

“Wow, Oz, I─ I don't know what to say.” Qrow was dumbfounded. To believe that his curse could be cured...

“You don’t need to say anything. You’ve done a lot more for me than I’ve done for you. But if you want to thank me, do it when the ritual is a success. You know how fickle magic can be.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”Qrow knew that he shouldn’t get his hopes up. Who knew if some ancient ritual would hold up in the modern era. Steps could have been lost as time passed, the magic that powers it may not even exist any more, hell, it could even just end up making things worse. But, Qrow trusted Oz, and there was still the off chance that things did go as expected. At the very least, he could debunk the ritual and let Oz know.

“Although, I should tell you… no. Just, be careful with this one.”

“Alright, I will.” Qrow said suspiciously. In all fairness, Oz always was mysterious.

“Good night Qrow.”

“Good night Oz.” Once the call ended, Qrow received the information, as promised. After reading through it, he could see that it was simple. It just required a lot. There were a few ingredients he had never heard of, but imagined that those would be the things Oz sent him. A few strands of hair from a calico cat were easy to get, only having to deal with a sneezing fit, as well as a horseshoe. He just paid a visit to Oscar and gathered a few hairs from a random calico cat there and bought a horseshoe. Oscar might have tripped face first onto his crush while Qrow was there, but he didn’t feel too bad once he saw them holding hands as he left. All that was left was a shamrock and a fishing pole made by the one invoking the ritual. The shamrock, while it would probably take a day of searching in a clover field to find, made sense with the ritual’s theme. The fishing pole made no sense. If anything, it made him doubt the ritual’s authenticity a little. But, regardless, he made a cheap one out of a stick and some string with a toy lure. It was sad, but it would do.

By the time Qrow had everything he needed, it was still four days until the stuff Ozpin sent would arrive. Qrow could have continued memorizing the incantation, but he had already been doing that. So, he decided to make a more respectable fishing pole. He didn’t take woodworking in school for nothing, even though he would have to do most of the work by hand. In the end, he just looked up how to make a bamboo fishing pole online. It was a nice change of pace from his daily routine. There was still another day until the supplies arrived by the time Qrow found the rod satisfactory. He decided to spend the day carving out a bird from a piece of wood to use as a bobber. He decided on a kingfisher, for their fishing prowess. Once he finished, he decided to go to bed. He had a big day ahead of him.

The supplies he needed arrived late in the afternoon. The mailman almost tripped while holding all the supplies, but Qrow caught him just in time. He was really hoping the ritual would work. Ozpin sent him some jars of a black goop. Qrow didn’t know what it was, but he wasn’t going to question it. Along with the goop, came an odd looking rug, a faded green, that was easily centuries years old, and perhaps even millennia if he were being generous. With no time to waste, he got to work. First, he laid down the rug that he would make the sigil on. Next, using the black goop, he carefully and slowly drew out the sigil, intricate with its many lines. At the tips of the center triangle, he placed the four-leaf clover, the horseshoe, and the strands of calico cat hair. In the center where an ominous vertical eye rested, he placed the fishing pole. With that done, he closed his eyes and clasped his hands together, reminiscent of a prayer. He began to utter the incantation, grateful that Oz knew the pronunciations.

Torzu od adrpan, [n] ascleh k iabes

Cruscanse [xitha] siatris

Amma bab argedco ils

Bien k hoxmarch ivmd ils

Pir ooaona ors

Ollor teloch olpirt dorpha

Ol argedco ego bab

Qrow opened his eyes to see that the black goop had been swirling upwards, the ancient rug and the items he gathered caught in the vortex, until it suddenly paused mid-air, and then fell onto the floor with an anti-climatic splat. He looked at his arms to see if he was any different. He didn’t feel any different. For a moment, he thought that the ritual failed, resulting in nothing. It evidently resulted in something, as a hand shot out of the puddle. Qrow wasn’t a believer, but he grabbed a nearby holy book. It would be better than nothing. It pulled itself up and out of the puddle, the goop dripping off the figure as it emerged. Soon, he could make out slicked back brown hair with graying sides, and deathly pale skin marked with red and black veins. He was clad in a green vest similar to the ancient rug and light colored pants. He opened his eyes to reveal that the sclera were pure black, and his pupils were an unnatural and piercing red. He grinned, showing sharp canines, which was very hot, and very scary.

“So,” it spoke, “you’re the one who summoned me?” Qrow nodded his head, unable to drawl out any words. Then, it looked him up and down. “What’s your name, handsome?” Did he just… flirt, with me?

“Qrow. Qrow Branwen.” was all he could muster out.

“Hm. Handsome name for a handsome guy. I suppose you're wondering what my name is then?” Qrow didn't respond, so the entity continued. “Well, like any respectable demon, I go by many names, but you can call me yours. ” The demon winked at him. He really is flirting with me. He didn’t know how to respond to a demon flirting with him, and a rather hot one at that. “Still shocked, I see. You weren’t exactly expecting me, were you?” Qrow noticed that he held the fishing pole he made slung across a shoulder, and wore a shamrock pin.

“Nope.”

“Well, I hate to intrude, but I think it’s best that talk in the morning, you know, so you can sleep on all this. Oh, and it looks like you only got one bed. Lucky me.” Yeah, lucky. That snapped Qrow out of his stupor.

“Hold on, I am not falling asleep when some random demon is here!” Even if those arms are very tempting. He noticed that one arm had a red armband wrapped around it.

“Like what you see?” the demon teased, flexing his arms. Qrow realized that he had been staring, and began to blush.

“I’m calling Oz.”

“Her ex-husband?” the demon asked.

“Who’s what?” Ozpin picked up the call.

“So, how did it go?” he asked calmly as he took a sip of his drink.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were making me summon a demon?!” Qrow exclaimed.

“The dollar store knock-off goddess says fuck you, and that she wants the kids.” the demon interjected

“Tell her I said to pay the child support.”

“Will do.” the demon saluted. Ozpin turned his attention back to Qrow.

“He’s an alright demon. You can trust him.”

“That doesn’t answer the Question! Oz!”

“Well, if everything went as planned, you should have been able to make a deal with him by offering the fishing rod.”

“And a pretty nice one at that. I like the little kingfisher.” the demon interrupted, holding up the rod for all to admire.

“But evidently, something went wrong.”

“Yeah, you used female calico cat hair. You should have used male calico cat hair.” he corrected. “Lucky for me, it looks like I’m stuck in a pretty nice place,” he said as he looked around the room, “with an even prettier person.” The demon winked at Qrow, again.

“Stuck here? What do you mean stuck here ?” Qrow asked, flustered.

“Well, since the ritual went awry, we’ll have to make another portal to send me back.”

“And that involves going back to hell to get some of that sludge. Trips to hell aren’t easy, you know.” Well shit.

“You went to hell? For me?” Qrow asked. He was touched.

“Yes, but think nothing of it. I owe you a lot.” Oz took another sip “Besides, you’re stuck with a demon now.” Qrow looked behind him to find The demon lying down on his bed, patting the empty space beside him as if offering it to him. Qrow turned away to hide a light blush. “Well, have fun with your new roommate, good night.”

“Wait! Ozpin you little─” with a click, the line was cut. Qrow groaned. He fell back into a chair to stare up at the ceiling, tired and stressed. He looked at the demon, who was just smiling at him. “So, what should I actually call you.”

“Hmm,” the demon thought for a moment, “Clover.” he said as he flicked the shamrock on his vest with his thumb.

“Alright then, Clover . What kind of demon are you anyways?” Qrow was still a little bit suspicious, but he didn’t sense any malicious intent, so there was that.

“Well, let’s just say I have the devil’s own luck.” he grinned. Despite the smile seeming slightly sinister, Qrow felt a bit of hope.

“So what you’re saying is, that you're a demon who brings good luck?”

“Good luck for a fee, and I’d say you’ve paid yours rather nicely.” He pulled the rod out of nowhere to admire it. “I really do like the kingfisher you’ve made. It must have taken a lot of time, and a lot of skill to make. I think this one’s my new favorite.” With a quick movement of his hand, it disappeared back into nothing. “I consider myself pretty lucky, but I have a feeling I’m going to get even more lucky with you here.”

“Pfft.” Qrow scoffed. “You haven’t dealt with someone like me.”

“And why’s that?” Clover sat up, genuinely interested in Qrow’s response.

“I… was born cursed with bad luck. It affects me and everyone around me.” This wasn’t information he gave so freely, but, for some reason, he felt that the demon could understand him, so he told him.

“I see.” The demon appeared to be thinking hard. “When I was human, I was born blessed with good luck, if you can call it blessed. I’m not gonna deny it, it had its benefits. But, as I grew older the more and more people thought that all I was, was my good luck. Everyone wanted to be around me for my good luck, and never for me. You get it, don’t you.” Qrow notic ed that there was something in his eyes: sadness, loneliness, a plea for someone to understand.

“I do.” he told him.

“I thought you would.” Clover smiled and laid back down, patting the empty spot beside him once more. Qrow gave into temptation, and laid next to the hunk of a demon in the small bed. He could have forced the demon onto the floor, but he didn’t want to be rude, and he certainly wasn’t going to sleep on the floor himself. Qrow had the best night of sleep he ever had in a long time, cuddled up in those muscular arms. Yeah, things will be fine. he though as he drifted to sleep.

[collectingsparechangemadeeasy1]

Lucky Charms Week Day 4. Good-Bad Luck. My friend on Discord made the art, I wrote the ficlet!

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” Qrow growled, glaring at the flight board. Another goddamn delay. Just his luck. The universe must have an extra strong hate boner for him today. Fucking. Perfect.

“You on flight 713 too?” a deep friendly voice spoke from next to him. Qrow turned to look at the asshole who dared to speak to him right now, only to be blindsided by the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen. Like. WOW. He had beautiful teal eyes, warm and inviting, Qrow was almost scared he’d get lost if he looked into them for too long. And good god his fucking ARMS. How the hell had he not been stopped at the gate for those guns? And his smile….wait. Shit he was smiling at him! Say something Branwen!

“Uh…” he couldn’t look at the man any more, not if he wanted a chance of this blush going away. So he turned back to the flight board.  “Yeah. I mean first it’s delayed a few minutes, now it’s five hours. I’ve gotta wait even longer now.” 

“Well,” the handsome stranger said, his voice smoother than silk, “it would be pretty boring to wait by yourself. I know one of the food places here has good coffee. Would you like to join me?” 

Just when Qrow thought his blush couldn’t get any worse. He stole a glance at the man next to him. Tone, tan, fit and ready, and an adorably hopeful look in his eyes. Now how could he, in good conscience, deny him?  

Qrow offered the man a soft shy smile, “Heh...sure.” 

He followed the mysterious stranger to a little food place not too far from their gate. They grabbed their coffee, Qrow also got a cookie because he was worth it, and they sat at a nearby empty booth. They were quiet for the most part, simply sipping coffee and listening to the bustle of people around them. 

“So stranger,” the brunette man said at long last, “what’s your name?”

Oh yeah, a name was probably a good thing to tell someone when you meet them isn’t it? “My name’s Qrow, how about you hot stuff?” God did he really just call this guy “hot stuff” ugh, why? Why was he so awkward?

The man chuckled, “I’m Clover, Clover Ebi. Nice to meet you Qrow.” he offered his hand out for Qrow to shake. Qrow only hesitated a moment before he took Clover's hand in his. Good god this guy had really soft hands. But like a leathery kind of soft, the kind of soft that said “I’ve lived and worked with these hands, but I will take care of you with the utmost care and tenderness” It was magical. 

“So Clover.” Qrow began after managing to tear his hand away from Clovers warm grip, “What brings you to the airport?” Brothers that sounded awkward.

“Oh I’m moving.” Clover said, taking a sip of his coffee. He had really pretty lips, Qrow wondered what they might feel like against him. Wait. No. Bad Qrow. Bad. For all you know this guy could be a psycho killer! Or a stalker! Or he could be color blind! How untrustworthy is that? 

“Really? Where from?” was that too intrusive? He hoped not. 

“Atlas. I’m moving to Vale to teach english at Beacon Academy.” Clover gave him an easy smile, not seeminging to be bothered by the amount of information he was giving out to a stranger. Actually, did he say Beacon Academy?

“No fucking way.” Qrow breathed through a chuckle. 

“What?” Clover asked with a cute tilt of his head. Aww! He was like a big puppy! Stay on track Branwen. 

“It’s just...I work there. I’m the current english. Or well, one of them.” he snorted into his cup as he took a sip. “What are the odds huh?” When Clover didn’t say anything Qrow glanced at him. Oh lord, he had a megawatt grin plastered on his face and his eyes were lit up like a christmas tree. Qrow shot him a confused smile. “What?”

“I’m just excited to meet a coworker already. At least I won’t be surrounded by total strangers now.” Clover beamed, chuckling sheepishly and rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know anyone in Vale. All my family is in Atlas, so guess I’m just excited to have at least one friend.”

Qrow smirked at him, “Who said we were friends? You don’t know me.” he teased, swirling his coffee with his hand.

“Well I would like to get to know you. We have a few hours to kill after all.” Clover smirked back, resting his chin in his palm. Was….was this guy smouldering him? Holy shit, this guy was smouldering him!

“Good for you I know a few ways to spend a few hours in an airport.” Qrow said in a low voice, tilting his head just so and taking a deliberately slow sip of his coffee. Or he would have. But he kind of missed his mouth and his nose instead, in his surprise his hand slipped and dropped the cup. Well, at least he had packed extra clothes just in case.

“That,” he said, wiping the coffee off him with some napkins Clover handed him, “was not supposed to happen.” This earned him a snort from Clover. A snort that turned into giggling, and soon he was all out laughing. It was a face buried in his arms, shoulders shaking with mirth, probably crying, kind of laughter. 

“Ya know. It wasn’t that funny.” he grumbled, though the smile pushing its way onto his face betrayed his true feelings. 

Clover eventually calmed from his laugh attack. After two failed attempts that is, he kept looking at Qrow and bursting out laughing again. Qrow couldn’t help but join in with the merriment. If you can’t laugh at the little things right? When they were both properly calmed, they took their little talk to the seats by their gate. They spent the next few hours simply talking. Qrow told Clover about Vale and about the Academy, making sure to warn him about the...rather eclectic teachers. Clover told Qrow about Atlas and why he chose to move to Vale. It was...nice, to just chat with someone for so long. Time just seemed to fly with Clover, seriously, because before either of them knew it their flight was there. 

“Where are you sitting?” Clover asked, as they waited for their respective groups to be called onto the plane.

“Group b, seat 7b.” Qrow replied.

“Well lucky you then.” Clover grinned, “I’m group b, seat 7a.”

Yeah, lucky him indeed, he thought grinning right back at the man he didn’t know would be his future husband. 

[littleblackqrow]

Backstory meme 9

9. If they were to make a timeline with their life events, which ones would they list? Which would they leave out?

It’d probably be easier if I did the timeline myself. Strike through stuff is what Qrow wont admit to, or would just never ever bring up. Obviously these are fungible depending on rp partners.

Born sometime, dunno when or where. Any speculation on his actual age is just a guess because of this. (He was actually born Friday, October 13th. Raven beat him, and was born on October 12th.

village got destroyed by Grimm. Tribe found the twins when they were toddlers (?) old enough to start crawling, not really old enough to have much memory

5-6 years old. His semblance activates without much fanfare or notice. It takes the Branwens months to figure out that all the bad luck they’ve had lately has a source.

About 7-8, he fixated on the Grimm Reaper and started trying to emulate her. Sliced up his arm when the prototype of Harbinger (complete with actual sharp cooking knife he stole) broke.

Saw a man killed in front of him when he was about that same age. Kids were supposed to head inside the Camp walls while the guards fought a professional Huntsman and killed him. Qrow was supposed to be inside but wanted to see a Real Fight so he hid and watched. He never told Raven about it

Qrow finds an injured baby marten and he nurses it back to health. The marten is tamed, and follows Qrow around. He aura trains the little gremlin, and names him Dustfinger.

13 was his first raid on a settlement and was what made him realize that he was not cut out to be a bandit. It still haunts him, though not as bad as it used to

14, his adulthood ceremony. This is when he earned the name Qrow and has gone by this name ever since. This is also when he earned a scar on his shoulder blade, a small celtic knot that ties him to the Tribe forever

17 he was sent to Beacon and joined Team STRQ. Things become a blur after that because his life picks up dramatically

At some point during school, much like rwby would, STRQ stumbled onto hints about Salem and also decided that stopping her was the most important thing they could do.

Qrow decides with Raven that they are not going back to the Tribe around their junior year, but need an acceptable reason for staying here. Ozpin gives them a way out with their feathers. Getting his ability to shape shift was a game changer

Also about this time was when Qrow discovered that he felt better when he was drinking. He started drinking, chasing that good feeling.

21-23, Raven was pregnant with Yang. Qrow did not want to complicate the pregnancy so he literally stayed away from her for all 7 months that she was aware of it. Qrow hauled ass to be there as soon as Yang and Raven were given the all-clear health wise. Holding his niece was a paradigm shift for Qrow, and he knew that she was the most important person in his life

Qrow goes through a period where he is in and out of his own apartments, trying to prove that he can do things independent of Raven. These are all failed attempts

The first time he killed a man happens when he’s between 18 and 23. He does not talk about this. It’d been one of his more vicious bullies in the Tribe who thought he was hot shit. He challenged Qrow to a duel, and in the Tribe’s ritualistic fights, Qrow had to accept, and this asshole didnt give him any other choice based on the rules of combat.

Raven leaves her family for the Tribe. Qrow makes himself scarce around Summer and Tai because things are awkward and he doesnt know how to deal with this. His drinking becomes more heavy. He goes on long weekend binges, and starts carrying around a flask.

Qrow moves in with Tai and Summer. While they do invite him into their relationship, Qrow insists on keeping his own room, and will sleep there more often than he sleeps with the two of them.

Qrow gets his masters after five or six of additional study after leaving Beacon. This degree was equal parts interest in the subject and wanting to have a plausible cover for Ozpin. Qrow then starts teaching at Signal

Ruby is born. Her parentage is uncertain but this does not matter. Tai and Qrow and Summer talked about it before they tried for a baby and decided on the familial roles that everyone was going to have. Ruby and Yang are tied for most important people in Qrow’s life.

Summer goes on her last mission. Qrow is the one to tell Tai.

His alcoholism falls off a cliff at this point. He will drink himself senseless almost every night so that he can swallow his pain and get up to help make sure the girls are taken care of, and to help Tai be a functional human being.

Dustfinger the Marten dies of old age at home. Qrow was away at the time, and the girls give Dustfinger a proper funeral because they know thier uncle would have wanted that.

Ruby asks him to train her in using a scythe when she’s about 7 or 8, the same age Qrow was. 

Qrow gets Tai a therapy dog. Zwei quickly becomes a fixture in the family home. 

things are fuzzy up until canon, but they include a lot of secret missions away from Ozpin, a lot of lack of self care, and a lot of pain.

Qrow leaves off a lot of things like all his failed relationships, all his sillier exploits, and will only talk about his work for Ozpin if its relevant. He’ll leave off his descent into alcoholism because he’s not ready to really examine those periods in his life or why things got worse.

and  I know I’m leaving stuff off, but those are the big events that come to mind.

[lacependragon]

I was looking at Qrow's wiki article, as one does, and saw that his last name Brawen meant "blessed white raven/crow" in Welsh and after some Googling it's more on the lines of "blessed white raven". What your take on this?

I mean the first thing you should know is that I just deleted a three paragraph essay on my problems with the wiki, how its run, and the fact that the admins have specifically sent me hate mail because I “generalized the whole wiki as if it were one person”.

So there’s that.

So, about this blessed white raven/crow thing. Now, depending on who you ask, or where you go, you’ll get a couple of meanings for the name “branwen”. The most common are “beautiful raven” and “blessed raven”. The “white” comes from the “wen”, which is derived from “gwen”, which means fair, white, or blessed. It’s actually interesting because this is the first time I’ve seen the “white” part be attributed to the name, but it gives me a lot of ideas (mainly shippy ones).

The Branwen name has always been a sort of two fold thing for me. It’s very self-explanatory, for starters, because it depicts the siblings in question, and that sort of makes them Raven-Raven and Crow-Crow ala Moon-Moon. Which is just funny.

But more than that, it means blessed. Raven and Qrow, as we see them, are not blessed. They hold their curses in different ways. Traditionally, crows and ravens are bad luck, they’re omens of bad circumstance. Yet, Branwen means blessed.

I mean, to me, that says that Qrow’s semblance isn’t as bad as he thinks it is. Yes, he brings misfortune, but he has good relationships, he’s a great fighter, and he’s valuable. He’s cleaning up his life and, I don’t know about you, but his drinking seems to have made it worse, not better. Qrow is far, far more than his semblance, and while his semblance wrecks his confidence, it doesn’t wreck his life the way he thinks it does.

Yes, Qrow’s semblance makes him unlucky, but the rest of his life is pretty blessed. He’s got friends - James, for starters - and his nieces adores him, the kids look to him for help, and hell, even his rivals respect him. He survived being poisoned with time to spare. He survived fighting monsters that should have killed him. For all Qrow claims to bring misfortune wherever he goes, he’s incredibly lucky. And he was lucky long before he got to Atlas.

To me, the Branwen name nods to that. Yes, Qrow’s semblance fucks him up, but it’s only a small factor in his life. And his last name speaks to that. It speaks to the fact that even though he, and his semblance, view him as bad luck, he is blessed. He is lucky. Just in ways you wouldn’t necessarily think about it.

As for the black/white dichotomy. Well, Qrow’s aesthetic has always been grey, and I think that’s a nod to it as well. Crows are black, but the name is white. Qrow sits in the middle. A further nod to the fact that despite his bad luck, he is still a good person and good things still happen to him.

Names and colours, yo. Pretty cool.

[bristlybranwen]

"Drink Me" / Caradoc & Bran & the "apple juice"

Past

Hogwarts, Bran’s 5th year, November

“Dearborn, right?”

“Yes?”

“Take this.”

“Oh, I don’t-,”

“Drink.” She held the cup closer to his face.

He cleared his throat and took it with a shy smile. “Thank you. Um.” He looked into the cup. “What is it?”

She grinned. “Don’t worry. Only apple juice.”

Unsure he raised it to his lips, took a sip and -- spat it out right away again, staring up at Bran’s explosive laughter with big, startled eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she explained, “but toasting on people with water is bad luck. And I’m about to make a toast to myself so you better be toasting with what I gave you.”

And she climbed onto the table. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, QUIDDITCHLERS AND QUIDDITCHLEES!” The attention of the whole common room was quickly on her. “After five shameful years where we have embarrassed ourselves against those snakes again and again, we have finally proven that Gryffindor is in fact superior to Slytherin! And all that, of course, thanks to your one and only, your marvellous, brilliant, amazing, strong, persistent, smart-...”

“Oh, shut it, Branwen!” Fabian Prewett laughed and tossed a pillow at her.

She caught it and grinned. “... yours truly, your new captain: me! Branwen Yaxley.” She raised her glass. “Let’s hear it for me!”

The common room, filled in all sorts of warm house colours roared with laughter and cheer, and as her name thundered through the room, she grinned past the crowd at the young Hufflepuff with his apple juice and mouthed a threat:  “You’re next.”

-

Hogwarts, Bran’s 5th year, May

“Come in, come IN, don’t be shy, don’t be shy!” Bran grinned as she waved a flock of Ravenclaws into the Gryffindor common room, the pink lady not at all pleased by that. But Bran ignored her like she always did and especially when she caught a familiar face appearing at the top of the stairs.

“Caramel Dearborn! You sluggy little twat, c’m’ere, how ye doing, hm?” she asked.

“Is it okay I brought them? They don’t play but-...”

“Of course it’s okay! Every house that beats the shit out of Slytherin is welcome here, you know that.”

Dearborn grinned and brawled a bit around when his buddies excitedly gave him punches to his arms.

“Ask her,” one of them then said and Dearborn took him into headlock. “Right. Um. So,” he brought Bran’s attention back to him, “I mean. I’m sure you’ll have some but. There’s apple juice inside again, right?”

Bran snorted out a laugh. “You bet ye ass there is. Come in, man, under the couches. Take as much as you want, it’s the least I can do after I knocked you off your broom during the last match.”

“Oh. Pfft. That’s okay,” Dearborn grinned. “I think we paid you back fair and square when we still beat you 100 to 260, no? Imagine how bad it would’ve looked for you if I had actually played the whole match through.”

“Cocky!” Bran said, eyebrows shooting high, arms crossing.

“But not wrong,” Dearborn shrugged, still grinning and letting his friend out of the headlock finally to step up to bring his face before Bran’s, challening her. “The Hufflepuff team is better than yours with me on it, and you know it.”

She growled. “Do you want war, Dearborn?”

“Only if we toast to my victories with apple juice.”

Bran blinked. Smirked. Grinned. Then laughed out loud, patting Dearborn’s shoulder with a heavy hand. “I like you, Dearfuck. Get your ass in now.”

-

Hogwarts, Bran’s 6th year, December

“I’m not playing.”

“What the fuck do you mean you’re not playing?!” Bran sniffled past her clotted nose while behind her her Chaser Katherine Twycross sneezed heftily.

The Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain gave her a pitying look then shrugged. “I’m not playing. This is absurd. You’ve only got one Chaser, no Keeper and no Seeker! And those that are here can barely stand on their feet.”

“Don’t pity us, Bones,” Bran hissed through her teeth -- until the harsh air reduced her to coughs.

Rigby Bones looked disgusted at that and took a step back, holding out a tissue by the tip of his fingers. “Please spare us, Yaxley. Let’s just move the game to next week you’re actually a threat.”

“WE’RE A THREAT ALL RIGHT, YOU FUCKING POOFTER!”

Bones bristled and his mildly bored, mostly disgusted expression changed into something harsher. “I’m doing this for you. It’s only fair to let you play with a full team.”

“Well we don’t need you to do anything for us. Step up and fight like a man for once. Or have you kissed so many boys that you’re sprouting ovaries now?”

“Fine!” Bones turned. “The game’s on! And it shall go into the history books as the game which vaporized Gryffindor once and for all! I hope you can bare the eternal shame, Yaxley!” And he stalked away, readjusting hat and sleeves.

The rest of the Hufflepuff team hovered however. They did share their Captain’s notion, after all, and looking at the three miserable Gryffindor players who wanted to play but could hardly even keep themselves in an upright position? They were Hufflepuffs, and as Bran liked to note, that made them too soft for their own good.

It was Dearborn who eventually sighed and stepped forward. He’d grown a lot since last year and was taller than Bran now. “Half of the school is sick, right? There will be hardly anyone in the stands, and definitely no party afterwards. I mean, I get it, Yaxley, but that doesn’t sound fun at all.”

Bran pressed her lips together. “You’re an alcohol now, Horseborn? Just out for the drinks?”

Dearborn grinned. “Where else am I gonna get my apple juice if not after Gryffindor beats Hufflepuff fair and square?”

Bran snorted, then sighed. “Fine. Tell your Captain we move the game to next week. But then no more excuses! I don’t want to win because you treat us softly.”

“Deal.”

Behind Bran, Twycross fainted.

-

Hogwarts Express, Bran’s 6th year, June

“Yaxley!” Dearborn called her as Bran passed the compartment where he and some friends were enjoying their ride home.

“Oh, Carrie,” another Hufflepuff sighed, visibly not eager to have Yaxley join their party.

She pulled the door open anyway and leaned against its frame with a grin. “Professor Caradoctor Dearborn. How’s it going? Happy to be heading home?”

“Good! Always! Look what we got!” And he held up what was in fact one of the jugs in which the school served apple juice in the morning, and Bran laughed out loud.

“I’ve corrupted you, and it feels good.”

“Want some?”

“Nah,” she shook her head. “Next stop’s mine. Have fun this Summer though. Practice hard. If i end you next year on the field, I want to know that you’ve actually tried.”

Dearborn replied with a fairly vulgar hand gesture and she snorted out a laugh, the mirth of the sound still ringing through the train after she was long gone.

-

Hogwarts, Bran’s 7th year, November

“Twatto! Apple juice?” She handed him a cup.

“Cheers.” He sipped it and immediately spat it out again. “What THE--,”

Bran hurried away, chortling.

“WHY WOULD YOU GIVE ME ACTUAL APPLE JUICE, YOU PSYCHOPATH!”

-

Hogwarts, Bran’s 7th year, January

Bran was knocked neatly off her feet, landing on her back. The air was pushed out of her lungs at the impact and she wheezed, struggling to get it back in. A moment later Gryffin Shunpike was on her, and her face was met by a hard fist. She tried to throw him off but to no avail, he was too big and too angry. He legs kicked between his and for a moment he groaned in pain, but it only infuriated him more. He grabbed her hair and crashed her skull into the ground.

Then, suddenly, just as her vision went dark, the weight of his body was lifted off her. She grabbed for her wand before she could even grasp a clear thought again.

“ARE YOU INSANE?!” It was Dearborn, Prefect now, dragging Shunpike away and almost hurling him against a wall. “Bugger off!”

“She started it!”

“And you’re five years old?! LEAVE!” But when he turned around he didn’t want Bran’s gratitude, only her wand pointing at him.

Her eyes were wild and her face bloody, her limbs shaking. “Shouldn’t have done that.”

“Oh, really?”

��I can fend for myself, Dearborn. I don’t need a baby sitter.”

“Right. You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t ask for your help!”

“All right! Whatever! What happened?”

“It’s none of your fucking business!” She turned around herself, pointed the wand at the shocked bystanders. “And none of yours either, you leeches!” Then she wiped her sleeve over her bloody nose and gave Dearborn a last glare before stomping off.

Behind her, she could hear the hushed voices explaining it for her:

“He called her out on the rumors.”

“Rumors?”

“Y’know. The new ones.”

“That she’s...”

Dearborn didn’t say anything to that.

Quickly Bran had to realise that the reason for this was because he was following her. Persistent Hufflepuffs, never knowing when it was enough, did they? “Leave me alone, Dearborn.”

“I didn’t know you were so weak, Yaxley.”

She stopped dead in her tracks. “Excuse me?”

He took his time to catch up with her. “Well, when you came out as gay, I thought that was pretty brave of you. You might not be the next heir of the Yaxley family, but still. It’s a bold move.”

“What’s your point, Dearborn?” She felt uncomfortable. Vulnerable. “Because I don’t need a cheerleading squat.”

“My point is that I didn’t expect that after this, you’d be such a pussy about it every time someone would bring it up.”

The wand was by his throat instantly. “Call me like that again.”

But he continued, unfazed, casual. “Surely you must’ve seen it coming that people would give you shit for it.”

“So?”

“So?!” Dearborn huffed, amused. “Don’t let that get to you, then! You’ve already proven that you’re braver than any of them. If you now go around chasing people who insult you, they’ll think you’re insecure after all.”

“I’m not insecure!”

“Their insults only mean something if you get insulted by them.”

Bran clenched her jaws and thought about this. The anger in her eyes mellowing out. Eventually pulled her wand away. “I’m getting a drink and you’re coming with me.”

“I’ve got ... class now.”

She threw him a glare and he nodded. “You’re getting a drink and I’m coming with you.” Tall as he was now, he put an arm around her shoulders and grinned when she just glared some more. “Sooo... that Chloé girl you were caught kissing... Tell me about her.”

Bran huffed.

“Is she into Quidditch?”

“Not the brooms, anyway.”

“No stick, only the bristles, huh?”

She laughed.

[mooksie01]

With Teammates Like These, Who Needs Friends? (2/5)

Chapter Summary: Clover is screwed.

There are three points of evidence that definitively back this conclusion:

1. The other Ace Ops are never going to leave him alone about his so-called "crush" on Huntsman Branwen 2. He has somehow already upset said huntsman in their first real interaction with each other 3. He has been partnered up with the twice-aforementioned upset huntsman for a mission into the abandoned SDC dust mines

Warnings: Swearing (you can pry Clover-The-Undercover-Pottymouth from my cold, dead hands), Slight Spiciness, Light Angst

Link to Chapter One: [X]

AO3 Link: [X]

Notes: Hello everyone! I cannot believe how positive of a reception this story has received from you all. I could not be more grateful to all of you who have read the first chapter, liked, and reblogged--you're all absolutely amazing. As a heads-up, chapters 2-4 of this story will focus a lot more on Fair Game, then chapter 5 will transition back to some Ace Ops interaction that will set up for future installments of this series. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Please, please like, reblog, and comment <3

---

Clover is thinking about Huntsman Branwen and he is fucked.

“Clover.” General Ironwood gives him an odd look. 

The near-hysterical vestiges of his functional mind wonder at the tinge of concern in the address.

“Clover? Did you hear me?”

“Yes, sir.” Clover replies, on autopilot.

He’s screwed, he’s fucked, he will never hear the end of this from the rest of the Ace Ops and he is fucked six ways to Sunday.

General Ironwood watches him for a long moment before turning back to the papers he holds in his hands. Normally, Clover would plan out these smaller missions, but seeing as how this was the first one that would combine the Ace Ops with Huntsman Branwen and his team, and as this mission was so vital to the plans for the Amity communications tower, General Ironwood had personally seen to the arrangement of the troops. After their meeting is through, it Clover’s job will just be to pass on this information to everyone and insure that the operation runs smoothly. Which is why he really needs to stop being so distracted by his impending doom and focus.

“Yes, well… as I said, Clover, you’ll be working with Qrow today.” General Ironwood glances up at him again, making brief eye contact before shifting his focus back down. “I can see that you’re worried about him, but I can assure you that he’s a perfectly able huntsman.”

“I have no doubts about that, sir. I’ve seen his record,” Clover hurries to put in, concerned that the general will believe him to be unable to work competently just because of a minor team reassignment. 

(Is he going to be able to work competently?)

“Then what--” General Ironwood stops and narrows his eyes. For a heart-stopping moment, Clover worries that he has been somehow caught-out in his (non-)attraction to Huntsman Branwen. Instead, though, the general simply sighs, “Has Winter been bad-mouthing him to people again? I’ve told her time and again that that sort of behavior is extremely unprofessional….” 

Clover shakes his head hurriedly. He may want to save face, but he isn’t willing to get Winter in trouble to do so. She’s a good soldier. “No, sir. I apologize, I have no issues with the mission assignments. I just didn’t sleep well last night.” 

Which. Isn’t technically untrue. It’s just that the reason he hadn’t slept well last night had been because his dreams had been plagued with gorgeous, dancing red eyes and high cheekbones and alabaster skin that he was sure would bruise so easily if met with the proper treatment....

Holy shit, he’s about to have a problem in the middle of his briefing with his commanding officer; Marrow was right, he’s acting like a teenager. He’s in his mid-thirties, this should not be a problem for him anymore!

General Ironwood still doesn’t seem entirely pleased with his response, but after a few seconds, he gives Clover a final, firm nod. “Alright. Dismissed.”

Clover nods back then stands and hightails it out of the general’s office before anything else can go wrong. 

Isn’t he supposed to have good luck?

Apparently not, as, within moments of leaving (not fleeing!) the room, he quite literally runs straight into Huntsman Branwen as he’s turning a corner. 

They collide hard, and Huntsman Branwen likely would’ve been sent to the ground if not for Clover quickly reaching out to grab him around the waist and haul him up. Of course, this causes them to be… very close for just a moment, and the faint heat radiating off the other man’s body is just a little bit intoxicating, and Clover just hopes that Huntsman Branwen can’t see the flush on his face. 

Huntsman Brawen pulls away and takes a step back, reaching up with one hand to rub at the back of his neck in a move that Clover would call sheepish if not for the fact that he can’t imagine the man before him as ever being shy or embarrassed; Huntsman Branwen is  practically a legend in their circles. The most skilled scythe-wielder in Remnant, some say. A member of the once-renowned Team STRQ, which was still only the second team in history to win the Vytal Festival Tournament twice consecutively (and considering that the first team to do so had been mysteriously stripped of its titles later on, he isn’t sure that it counts anymore).   

Still, the faint redness spreading across Huntsman Branwen’s cheeks seemed to suggest otherwise. 

“Shit, sorry,” Huntsman Branwen mutters, pulling Clover out of his musings. And Brothers, his voice. “Wasn’t really looking where I was going…. Didn’t mean to run into you.” He has a thick Mistrali accent, and his quality of voice is unexpectedly rough. Clover is pretty sure that he can feel his higher brain functions melting into goo. 

Clover isn’t blind and he isn’t deaf. He knows an exceptionally attractive man when he sees one, and if it weren’t for the fact that his team would tear him to shreds (and that he isn’t sure what the general would think if he got involved with Huntsman Branwen), he absolutely would have already started to pursue some sort of connection with the other man. As it is, though, he doesn’t think he could deal with the mockery that would come from encouraging his “crush,” as Elm would say, on Huntsman Branwen, so it’s probably for the best that he avoid doing so. 

Resolved, Clover straightens to his full height, causing Huntsman Branwen to have to look up a little to meet his eyes. His chest squeezes. “It’s perfectly alright, Huntsman Branwen. The blame is at least partly mine; I should have been paying more attention.” 

The other man cocks an eyebrow at him and folds his arms across his chest. Clover makes a very valiant effort at not looking at the way his biceps flex and stretch the material of his new clothes (which are… extremely flattering, to say the least). “‘Huntsman Branwen’? Atlas and its titles…. Just call me Qrow. The other thing just sounds weird.” He moves one hand down to rest against his hip and lets the other hang loose at his side. “And you’re Clover, right? One of Jimmy’s Special Operatives?” He tilts his head, birdlike. 

Clover’s breath catches for a second at the way that his name sounds coming from Huntsman--Qrow’s--lips. He thinks that he’d be wheezing if he weren’t trying so hard to be as in-control as ever. 

Please, Brothers, let this man be into men.

He crushes the errant thought as though it were a Sentinel, with the same cut-throat efficiency.

“That’s right,” he crosses his own arms and thrills a little at the way Qrow’s gaze bounces down and lingers for a second too long before returning to his face. “You’re in luck,” he says, going for humorous, but apparently failing, if the way Qrow’s slight smirk dips is anything to go by, “General Ironwood wants us to pair up together for today’s mission. Maybe it’s a good thing we bumped into each other beforehand.”

Qrow looks away, a full-on frown tugging at his (gorgeous) lips, now. Clover internally panics. What did he say? “Luck, huh?” Qrow scans Clover up and down, his face falling a little more. “Is that what… all of this is about?” He gestures expansively at Clover as a whole, and there’s a note of hurt in his voice that Clover can’t quite puzzle out, but before he’s able to voice his concern, Elm appears at the end of the hall. 

Normally, Clover would be happy to see her. Right now, he is tempted to wring her neck. Not that he could, probably--she is both taller and objectively stronger than he is--but it’s a therapeutic thought, even if he is ashamed by it. 

She looks back and forth between them for a moment, a wide grin quickly spreading across her features. Clover barely resists the urge to groan. “Clover,” she practically sings, “you and Huntsman Branwen are needed in the mission briefing room! Two of those kids are already waiting there for you!” She walks away, snickering. Her heavy footfalls echo long after she’s out of sight. 

Qrow gives him one last glance before turning and hurrying away, his tattered red cape fluttering behind him. 

And Clover stands alone in an empty hallway, wondering what the hell just happened, listening to the quickly-receding sound of Qrow’s footsteps. 

---

More Notes: So, there we go! Clover is a mess, and honestly? Relatable.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I'll see you again tomorrow for the next one! <3

(Also, side-note, I may or may not have written a small story that centers around the rare-pair to end all rare-pairs: Clover/Qrow/Elm. Would anyone be interested in reading that if I posted it?)

[antman-56]

The Long Night Pt. 22

BEEP BEEP BEEP

That sound was starting to get annoying but the only good thing about it was it telling the whole world that Taiyang was still alive. Raven was seating next to him, reading aloud and drinking tea.

Raven (chuckling) : I’m pretty sure this part would have made you laugh. It’s about a bard that can’t keep it in his pants and Geralt saves him by telling the lord that the bard was kicked in the balls by an ox.

Tai remained motionless. He had been for almost a month. Their were times he made a sound of discomfort or joy and one time he opened his eyes, blinked and then passed out again. 

Nurse : Um Miss Branwen, visiting hours end in 10 minutes. But if you like we can let you stay for half an hour more.

Raven : The 10 is fine, thank you.

Raven went back to reading. As the nurse left she heard her say that the kid was lucky to have such a caring girlfriend. 

If only they knew the truth.

Raven got up from her seat and gave Tai a kiss on his forehead.

Raven (whispering) : Wake up soon. I love you.

Raven left the medical wing and was now on her way to the dorm. She was thinking about the homework she still had to do and determining if it was worth it.

She was outside the medical wings doors when she texted Summer :

*Raven :Hey heading home

*Summer : K and could u go to the store and pick up milk

*Summer : ill pay u back

*Raven :Fine 

After a couple of minutes of walking she noticed she was being followed by a group of men, maybe 4 or 5. They were good if it took her this long, she blamed the teachers for the homework. She had no weapons on her and they were behind the cafeteria far away from the residential dorms were located. She began to walk faster and staying in the light. She was beginning to panic, if they were TRBO, JACB, BLAD, or all of them then she was screwed. 

She started looking around to find a pole, a rock, anything to use as a weapon. Then she saw the convenience store was just up ahead and ran for it.

When she was at the door she turned around out of breath and ready to scream. She didn’t see any of them. She went inside the store and took out her scroll.

*Raven : Hey can u send qrow over with Omen

*Summer : Y

*Raven : Some guys r following me and right now in store

*Summer : Stay put well be their fast

Raven stayed in the store and began browsing and occasionally turning towards the window to see if they were still their. And was scared when she saw a silhouette of a man. 

***Next Day***

Raven and Summer were walking towards their class while Qrow stayed in. His class wasn’t for another 2 hours.

Summer : Do you have any idea who it could have been?

Raven : Maybe TRBO, JACB, BLAD or a mix of them? I don’t know! I just ran.

Raven hated to admit it but she felt weak right then and there. If she had Omen with her she would have ran at them without hesitation or remorse. 

Summer saw the look on Raven’s face. Frustrated, angry, ashamed, and worse of all afraid.

Summer (stops and puts her hands on Raven’s shoulders) : Hey, anyone in your situation would have ran. Their is no reason to feel ashamed about it.

Raven : Summer, I was weak.

Summer : Were all weak. When we are around the people we care about, we are at our most strongest. That’s why were Huntresses.

Raven stayed silent. The last time she was with Tai he was holding his head and screaming. They were weak, SHE was weak even around the man she loved. And for the other reason, well Summer would change her mind if she knew.

Raven (taking hands off her shoulders) : Anyway, changing subject. Anything new with Qrow?

Summer : Well I asked him to smell my new conditioner and for his opinion.

Raven : Aside from that being a wired way to flirt, were you in a towel and fresh out the shower or clothed and dry when you went to him?

Summer (slight blush) : Clothed.

Raven : Well did you get close close or close?

Summer (blushing and quickly) : I got close enough to hear his heartbeat explode.

As the girls kept chatting about Operation : Dumbass they were being observed from the rooftops.

Freya (sitting at the edge) : Why are we doing this again?

An Mai (holding binoculars) : James told us to follow her. He believes their is a mole in our group.

Freya :  Hey I’ve kept my mouth shut. I owe Willow everything I have. And Summer is probably the nicest person we have ever met from Beacon. 

An Mai : I agree, but if we do have a mole we have to take every precaution otherwise Tesla wins.

Freya : She let me braid her hair. That’s a sacred trust. And are you sure no one can see us?

An Mai semblance is blend. She can camouflage herself and her immediate area if she is calm. 

An Mai : Yes, i’m sure. I mean I was able to get past Casey Lee Williams backstage security.

Freya : Best! Day! Ever! But what dose Jimmy think she’ll do?

An Mai : Don’t know, that’s why we need to watch her and her team.

Freya (pouting) : Doesn’t mean we have to like it.

An Mai : Agreed.

***BLAD Dorm***

Clothes were being thrown out of a closet and a tail was popping out of it. 

Alvin : No, not this one. No, that needs to be washed. No for obvious reasons. Guys, I need help!

Damien (laughing at the antics) : Glad your admitting it.

Alvin got out of the closet and glared at Damien.

Ben (annoyed) : Get your tail out of my face!

Lenny : Guys how does this make me look? Flashy and bold or dashing and daring?

Ben : Don’t care. 

Alvin : Guys!!

Everyone turned to him.

Alvin (exhausted) : I want to ask out that girl.

Lenny : I would go with her friend. 

Lenny put his hands hovering over his chest. Trying to imitate Raven’s breasts.

Damien : She’s taken by the blonde guy.

Alvin : Plus she’s mean. The small girl,  She’s nice.

Ben : She trapped you in a mine and blew it up!

Alvin :Still her voice!! It was angelic~

Lenny :He is right. Beauties come in all sizes, big or small. I’ll help you. 

Lenny rushed over to him and took out his measuring tape.

Lenny (Edna Mode impersonation)  : First off darling you lack the pazazz in your look. Your plain and boring and the tail, was so last year.

He playfully pulled it and Alvin went stiff.

Alvin : Hands off the tail!

Lenny : My bad! But in all seriousness you need -

Damien : Muscle! (pushes Lenny aside and makes a pose) That’s what all chicks want. Come with me to the gym and get on my program and I promise you after 3 weeks every girl will want you.

Ben : What he needs is confidence. Be funny and stuff around her. Chicks love the romantic crap movies show. 

Lenny : What no he needs to be unique not some muscle brain jackass or some beta male nonsense.

Damien : Muscled jackass!?

Ben : At least the girls I come home with don’t regret it the morning after!

Lenny : You want to fucking GO!!

Alvin : Can I p-

BL_D : NO!!!

Alvin walked to the window and watched the campus ignoring the fight right behind him and daydreaming about a possible future with a beautiful girl with silver eyes.

Imagining a nice house on a hill, a litter of children with silver eyes and with different faunus features from fluffy tails and ears to looking almost normal. Them going to a local community center to sing as a family, taking on huntsmen missions as a couple and maybe family. He just stared at the window with a smile.

Damien was holding Lenny up in the air and was about to choke slam him. He had Ben in one arm wrapped around his neck to hold him in place. 

RING RING RING

Alvin snapped out of his dream and turned to the source.

Ben : Let me go.

Damien dropped Lenny on the floor and let go of Ben.

Ben walked to the scroll and picked it up.

Ben : Miller speaking, Turbo whats the problem? 

Lenny and Damien were looking at Ben and hearing him say “Okay” or “I got it”. He hung up the phone and used his semblance.

Ben (interanlly) : We got a two problems.

The rest of team BLAD ran to get notes books and pencils. 

((/// * is writing and   I   for Ben is using his semblance))

*Lenny : What?

Ben (  I  ) : We lost our only sponsor.

That spooked the team.

Damien (yelled)  : WHAT!!

Ben : Quiet!

*Lenny : HOW?

*Damien : Butch was our one and only sponsor. What do you mean he’s gone.

Ben (  I  ) : Something happened and now he lost control of his territory.

*Alvin : Alright, whats the other problem?

Ben (exhaled,   I   ) : The KTs are gone. All of them were found dead in an alley and the survivors were just found near the border. 

Ben looked away from the group, especially Lenny, not able to meet their gaze. 

Lenny (  I  ) : How?!

Ben (  I  ) : Crucified and burned. It had the True Sons of Icarus name all over it. 

*Alvin : So, the gangs dead.

*Lenny : No! WE are alive and we’ll get our revenge!

He said the last part with a sinister tone. 

*Damien : Well lets go pay the Sons a visit.

Ben (  I  ) : Not yet. They have about 60 guys maybe more.

*Lenny : Then what?!

Ben (  I  ) : They’ re at war with The West Triads, The Wolf Pack, Samedi’s Prophets and The Lost Kingz. Their all fighting over Butch’s territory and JACB is gonna help us take them out if we help secure Butch’s territory after he kicks the bucket.

*Damien : So, we kill whoever wins and if the Sons, win its two birds with one stone. 

Ben (  I  ) : And Tesla said he would be our sponsor if we do this.

*Damien : How?

Ben (  I  ) : Well two teams are graduating and one spot is open for us.

*Alvin : I don’t know about this, what happens if a White Fang show up again? 

*Lenny : They won’t. Police Chief Mann made it almost impossible for them to protest legally and if they do. Cops are allowed to use force.

Ben : So, its decided. Get some rest and Alvin go up to her and ask her out. Maybe she likes you too.

Alvin nodded and went outside to test his luck. Tonight was the night.

[nezzfiction]

STRQ Team Ch. 2 - Athos Bleu

Series Synopsis: This is not the fairy tale of hopes and dreams. This is a tale of legacies, of predecessors. Of those that came before, who fought and offered their strength to those who would come after. Before Team RWBY, there was STRQ Team. Summer Rose, Taiyang Xiao Long, Raven Branwen, and Qrow Branwen. Through the actions of these four special individuals, some of noble cause and some borne of infamy, the gears of fate will be set in motion for the World of Remnant. And the future as a whole.

Links to read the series: Ao3 or FF.net

Or hit the jump below:

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Athos Bleu

.

The Strength in One

Becomes the Strength in All.

.

.

From the farthest corners of Remnant, students of all shapes and backgrounds filtered into Beacon Academy’s auditorium. Some came from within the Kingdom and others without. But whatever their origins, they shared a single objective.

To earn the title of Hunter.

…

“What took you?” Raven asked.

“What? Lonely after leaving you alone for five minutes?” Qrow asked back.

“No. Just wondering how long it took you to get anywhere with your mark. By the looks of it, you didn’t even get her number.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Sure, it wasn’t,” Raven rolled her eyes to Summer, who just walked through the entrance hall. She scrutinized the girl’s figure, flirting with a few ideas. “This isn’t the time to get distracted, little brother. Doubt we’ll be here for long.”

“Still trying to figure a way out, huh?”

“Of course.”

“You know, if we stir shit up here and get expelled, Temujin and Shepherd would probably just send us to another school.”

“Then, we raise hell there, too. Whatever it takes to get it through their thick skulls that this idea is a complete waste of time.”

“I gotta be honest, sis. I think we’re gonna be here a while. We might as well get acclimated,” Qrow started walking backwards in line with Raven’s pace. “It can’t be all that bad, or else Shepherd and Temujin wouldn’t have sent us here in the first place.”

“I know that much, idiot. They want us to be normal kids like the rest of everyone our age.”

“Then, why are you fighting this so hard?”

“Because this isn’t home, Qrow. Home is Vacuo, with Temujin and even Shepherd. You wanna live the honest life on the straight and narrow? Good luck to you! But I’m going back—one way or another.”

“You’re wrong if you think I don’t want to go back to them.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I just…I want to respect their wishes. They’ve never been wrong before. Maybe, I dunno. We actually find this better life they keep talking about.”

“You are seriously dumb. Of course, if we stay here, we’ll have better lives.”

“So……What? You allergic to the idea of being at peace or happy?”

“Maybe, I don’t want to be happy.”

“…I’ve heard you say a lot of angsty teenage stuff, but that by far is—”

Suddenly, Qrow was knocked off balance, when he walked backwards into someone. He turned to see it was a short boy wearing bright baggy clothes, sunglasses, and a hiphop cap. Despite their height only reaching his shoulders, it was Qrow who was knocked on looser footing.

“Very smooth, little brother,” Raven snorted.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going, short stuff!” Qrow yelled.

“Y-y-yeah? But you were the one who bumped into me,” the other boy replied.

“Yeah, and how could you tell anything, when you’re wearing sunglasses indoors?”

The Branwen twins looked the kid up and down more closely.

Besides the sunglasses and the backwards hat, he also wore a mix-match of what could be considered the hippest fashion. The problem was, it was all too obvious the boy was trying too hard, and it resulted in him looking ridiculous instead.

“I take that question back. Didn’t even need to ask it.” Qrow snatched the boy’s cap to reveal their spikey, yellow hair. “So, is that dyed, or are you a natural blonde?”

As the boy readied to use force to take his hat back, Raven snatched it from her Qrow’s hand.

“Sorry about my brother,” she apologized, while handing the hat to its rightful owner. “He can be a dick about the dumbest shit. My name’s Raven. And, you are?”

Raven leaned close to him with an air of seduction. By the way she shortened the space, it was clear she tried to emphasize her ample but still growing chest. It made her target sweat profusely.

“T-t-taiyang. Taiyang Xiao Long.”

“Taiyang Xiao Long…” Raven echoed in a low tone. “It’s a strong name.”

“Eck!” Qrow expressed behind, with a finger in his open mouth.

“See you around, Tai,” Raven winked, and then made her way closer to the auditorium stage.

Taiyang couldn’t help watching the girl’s figure leave, her hips swinging with a subtle sashay in her step.

“So, gross,” Qrow commented, once he caught up with his sister. “Seriously?”

“That, little brother, is planting the seeds of weakness.”

“So you can reap the later victories,” Qrow completed Temujin’s saying. “Still, almost had me fooled you were interested in the little twerp.”

“Please. That’s why I keep telling you, you need more training. Things aren’t always what they seem.”

Raven glanced back at Taiyang still gawking at her with a lovestruck stare.

Not to mention, his fatal lines are unusually small.

Despite how he looks, he’s obviously trained to minimize his weak points.

She played back the moment Qrow bumped into him. The boy’s feet stayed firmly planted to the floor. And even though, he was knocked into by someone bigger than him, his stance remained completely solid, while also being caught by surprise.

He’s definitely no pushover.

Raven brandished a fake smile and gave a fingery wave. Taiyang responded with a robotic wave of his own.

Well, I guess everyone this age is weak to a little stimulation.

“Taiyang Xiao Long, huh?”

…

Might’ve been a threat—

If he wasn’t such a chump.

.

X  X X  X  X

.

As the last of the students entered the auditorium, the lights dimmed and the Headmaster of Beacon took the stage.

He was a tall man with a lengthy beard, dressed in formal, forest-green robes. Lining his hood and collar, sprouted vibrant vegetation and a few stems of flowers. The irises of his eyes possessed a bright pink luster to them, lending him the appearance of something supernatural. In his grey beard, the heads of a small falcon, snake, and spider, peaked out momentarily. Once they saw the crowd, they seemingly retreated back into their nest.

“I am Headmaster Myrddin. Welcome to Beacon Academy.”

His voice carried over the entire chamber without the use of microphones or sound systems. And he did not yell, yet it was as if he were whispering in the ear of all those in the audience.

“Today will mark the first step in the rest of your lives. You may think I am overdramatic in saying this, but your years spent here will introduce violent change into what you think you know; about life, about the world, and especially—about yourselves.”

Murmurs rose in the students, but immediately quieted again once he spoke.

“For it is only within the storm we find what truly matters, what it is that truly survives. And in that material, weapons are forged for the sake of…Hm.”

Myrddin stopped himself midsentence.

“No…No, I don’t think I will reveal that quite just yet.”

More confusion erupted from the audience, but the Headmaster only resumed his speech.

“I’m sure you would rather take some time to get acquainted with our facilities, but first things first. A test will be implemented tomorrow morning. Prepare your equipment, talk amongst yourselves. Perhaps, strategize as you see fit. Be ready when the sun rises. That will be all.”

As Myrddin left the stage, leaving the new students in complete bewilderment, the lights of the auditorium turned back on. Little did the audience know, while they were watching the Headmaster, their future Professors and Mentors were watching them.

On the second floor of the theatre, a group of veteran Huntsmen and Huntresses observed from a one-way window.

“Haha! I wonder which one of these young minds will have the honor of receiving mentorship under me!”

“Indeed, Peter! Our first year as Professors seems marked by a similarly interesting generation of students!”

“How about a wager then, Barty? There is the Vytal Tournament later this year! Let us see who can train the best team of youngsters! Ah… I wish I had a Mentor like me when I was their age. Then, blah blah blah blah…”

As a number of professors discussed and spied on the potential candidates of students, one particular faculty member seemed indifferent to it all.

He leaned against the back wall with his arms crossed. The cape and leathers he wore were dyed a deep, sapphire blue. They were worn and torn from long-time use. His wide-brim, musketeer hat tipped low above his eyes. Two large feathers, one black and one white, tucked into its band.

Rather than paying attention to the students or the Headmaster’s speech, he seemed only to be waiting for the orientation to finish.

In his boredom, he drew a steel flask from his pocket and drained it heavily. His brown mustache and beard, which bristled out like wild grass, caught some of the liquor. A sloppy arm went to wipe it.

The man appeared rather unkempt and rough around the edges. But a certain intimidation hung around the atmosphere of the veteran Huntsman. A presence that warded off practically all his colleagues, save for maybe one.

“Any of the students catch your eye this year, Athos?”

“Ozpin,” he muttered with slight acknowledgment. His voice resounded with a low, tough crass. “No, none. Myrddin said something about this batch being special, but the brats look as unimpressive as last year’s, and the ones before that.”

“Really? No interest at all? Not even the young Summer Rose?”

“Yours and the Headmaster’s shining, prodigy. Hook from Signal, put in a good word about her, too.”

“And?”

“…She’s got silver eyes. Practically doomed and cursed to live a life of tragedy.”

Ozpin sighed. “How about the Branwen twins?”

“Peh. ‘Branwens’. Thought they all died out. Can’t believe Temujin didn’t want to save a pair of talented killers for herself. Make better assassins than Hunters. But I guess, assassins are just another a kind of Hunter.”

“Hm,” Ozpin chuckled. “And here I thought this would be the year a group of youths finally earn apprenticeships with the legendary Athos Bleu.”

“Stop blowing smoke up my ass, Oz. There’s nothing legendary about me.”

The man emptied the rest of his flask annoyingly. Seeing as he didn’t feel drunk enough, he decided to ditch the rest of the ceremony to find more booze.

On his way from the balcony, he caught sight of someone through the window.

Taiyang Xiao Long, huh.

He’s probably a standout, too…

If he didn’t get all googly-eyed around the Branwen girl, like some kind of chump.

.

X  X X  X  X

.

At the strike of dawn, the “prospective” students of Beacon Academy gathered at a grass clearing. Before them, was the tree line of the Emerald Forest. And standing along its perimeter, facing them, were various Professors.

As the students wondered what kind of entrance test they would be taking, an unknown figure stepped in front of the faculty to greet them.

The woman gazed intensely at them all with an almost angry look. The black fur trench coat she wore was lined with armor. As if to accentuate the intimidating impression she gave, her face and skin exposed by her low-cut shirt, were covered in tattoos. Her hair was colored with a burning red, and the silver decorations weaved into their ends clinked as she turned to scan all of them.

“My name is Gavein Caliburn! But that’s Professor Caliburn to all of you!” Her voice rung across the landscape with a tone that was noble, inspiring, and proud, but also frightening. “I am the Vice Headmaster of Beacon Academy. Professor Myrddin had to attend to other matters, so I will be explaining the details of the test!

“As you may have already heard, students here are divided into teams of varying numbers. You can be divided into teams of one, four, even ten or twenty. Each team, is led by a Professor or ‘Mentor’ as you will refer to them in the future. Your placements will be determined entirely on the results of your test. Any questions?”

Not a single hand or voice spoke up, though, likely not for a lack of curiosity.

“Very well. As prospective students aiming to become future Huntresses and Huntsmen, you will—in frequent cases—obviously be required to Hunt. Therefore, this test is designed with the straightforward purpose of measuring that skill.”

She extended her arms to her right and left, referring to the Professors behind her.

“Your future Mentors will enter the Emerald Forest. After five minutes have passed, you will hunt them down.”

…

All the students immediately started murmuring to each other with uncertainty. Several voices cried out in hushed words:

“Is that all the instructions we get?”

“We’re supposed to hunt veteran Huntsmen and Huntresses?”

“So, we have to find them? Wait, do we have to capture them, too?”

“That’s too hard, isn’t it?”

“We probably aren’t meant to succeed, right? They just want to see what we can do.”

Many of them wanted to raise a question, but were too afraid to ask. Nothing in the Vice Headmaster’s demeanor gave the impression that anything was up for debate. Instead, the students stared helplessly, hoping someone would point out the absurd difficulty of the exam.

After some time passed, and it seemed no one would raise a point, a single hand went up.

Professor Caliburn mugged at them, before calling them out.

“Yes, a question.”

“When you say hunt down a professor,” Raven started. “We talking capture…or kill?”

For the first time since she appeared, Caliburn broke into a surprised smirk.

Cheeky brat.

“I’ll leave the method up to you to determine. But I will say this, you’re usually tasked with eliminating Grimm, than taking them alive. Interpret that how you like.”

Caliburn turned a glance to her colleagues. More than a few were surprised by Raven’s question. Some tried to play it off as a student getting ahead of themselves, but there was no mistaking a subtle trace of fear underneath. And then, there were the words from the Vice Headmaster herself.

Should serve to keep the Mentors on their toes, too.

“Ah! Youth! This is getting very exciting, Barty!”

“Indeed! I, myself, feel positively ecstatic by the potential of these newcomers. Or maybe, it’s the coffee!”

Well…some of them, anyway.

Caliburn shrugged, and like a conductor, swiped her hand across the air.

“Scatter!”

On her signal, the various professors dashed into the Emerald Forest at full speed. Their figures, disappearing completely in a matter of seconds.

The students could only gawk at the monumental task set before them. Some seemed overwhelmed before they were even given the chance to start. And it took a while for a few to notice that there was one professor that didn’t leave with the others.

The Vice Headmaster sighed at the man sitting on the ground, drinking liquor from a barrel with the utmost casualty.

“Really, Athos? This year, too?” she shook her head at the professor’s delinquent antics.

The man gave a loud burp, before replying.

“Not all prey run.”

“You’re just being lazy.”

“I’m being helpful.”

“Sure, you are.”

“……Drink?” he offered, clutching the barrel’s rim with a single hand.

Caliburn rolled her eyes, and then, joined him in sitting on the grass. The two traded the barrel back and forth, enjoying a casual discussion.

Meanwhile, the prospective students all eyed the odd Huntsman as he grew increasingly drunker. Not knowing what to make of it, they wondered if the man was simply open to taking anyone as an apprentice.

After some time passed, Caliburn stood up and took the vibrating scroll from her pocket.

“Twenty seconds until you start!” she announced.

At the same time, Athos lazily got up, continuing to down large gulps of liquor.

“Ten seconds!”

All the students drew their respective weapons, and took their starting run poses.

“Five…!”

Athos pulled out a long musket rifle that had a full-length sword attached to its end, like a bayonet.

“Three…!”

Any light breeze dissipated, as the air went dense. The smell of alcohol lingered the air, along with something else. Not an actual scent, but a possible feeling of dread.

“Two…!

An explosion of bloodlust could be felt. Athos kicked off the ground violently, sending dirt and rock up behind him.

“One…!”

By the time Vice Headmaster Caliburn finished the countdown, Athos was landing his rifle amidst the first batch of students.

The earth sundered with a thundercrack. A violent shockwave blasted most everyone off their feet. Students were sent flying. And when the dust finally settled, they watched the Huntsman strut threateningly from the crater.

His musket resting across one shoulder, while he took his time downing another helping from his liquor barrel.

“Hah…” he sighed contently.

Another shockwave, and Athos was swinging his rifle wildly again.

Realization dawned on the students, for some of whom it was too late. Unlike the other professors, the students were not meant to hunt Athos Bleu.

Athos Bleu was meant to hunt them.