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azure-wolf-227 · 5 years

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Rosebird Week 2019: Day 1

Hi, I’m starting this late because of real-life interfering and this one-shot ended up being harder to write than I expected. This resulted in the following one-shots being delayed as well but I’m working to catch up.

Also, these one-shots will be set in the same universe as the RWBY story that I’m planning and will be considered canon with it.

Day 1: First Meeting

Summer is excited (and nervous) about attending Beacon and meets the most beautiful woman ever.

Meanwhile, Raven wouldn’t admit that the clumsy, hooded girl who crashed into her has lovely eyes.

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“Oh my Gods!” Summer Rose glanced out the huge windows excitedly, watching as the airship that she was traveling in approached Beacon Academy, the white-hooded girl’s enthusiasm increasing with each passing second. How could she not be excited? This was the greatest Huntsman Academy in all of Remnant! They only accepted the best of the best, their graduates often going on to become living legends. Heck, even the professors were often legendary Hunters themselves!

A sudden thought struck her. “Oh, my Gods, what if I’m not ready?” the silver-eyed girl frantically whispered to herself as her mind conjured all sorts of nasty scenarios where she ended up either dead or expelled, or worst still, got whoever she would be teamed up with killed or expelled. Unbeknown to Summer, her Aura was reacting to her inner distress, and a small gale blew through the ship. The other future students stared with a mixture of surprise, confusion, and awe as red and white rose petals manifested from the hooded girl’s cloak and swirled around her form on the wind.

Summer was unaware of this as she tried to calm down her anxious thoughts and put her worries to rest with some self-reassurance. ‘It’s fine, everything will be okay. I may haven’t attended a combat school, or any kind of school for that matter and my upbringing wasn’t in any way normal, but my fighting skills were good enough to impress Professor Ozpin into admitting me one year early.’ Her expression turned into one of determination.

‘Besides, Aurore, Ro, Dodger, and Olive also believe in me. I’ve never let them down before and I won’t start doing it now!’

It was then that Summer noticed that all the other passengers had their eyes on her. Wondering what they were all her eyes widened when she noticed the petals fluttering around herself, the accompanying wind now a gentle breeze to match her no longer frantic emotions. Summer blushed a deep red and pulled up her hood to hide her face, her mortification increasing as the majority of those watching recovered from their shock and chuckled, except for one tall, muscular blond guy who gave Summer a look of sympathy. Luckily, her embarrassment didn’t last long as the ship finally docks, and the students can disembark.

Summer makes a quick escape by manipulating the wind to give herself a boost in speed. Unfortunately, since she had her hood up over her head while her eyes were focused on the ground as to not make eye contact, her field of vision was impaired so it was no surprise that she did not see the dark-haired girl right in her path.

The white-hooded girl squeaked as she crashed into someone, who fortunately was skilled enough to not be plowed over, though her face ended up pressed against a pair of soft, firm masses. Before she could try to figure out what these orbs were, Summer felt a hand grasping the back of her cloak and pulling her away, their strength great enough to even lift her off the ground.

“What are you doing?” The female voice was slightly deep, resounding with strength and annoyance.

Looking up, the first thing that Summer saw were the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. They were the color of a red sunset and seemed to almost glow with their own light, boring into her soul with their piercing gaze. It was another moment before Summer stopped focusing on the eyes to take in the rest of the woman’s appearance. Her face was slightly round with a sharp chin, a cute nose and full lips set in an annoyed frown that matched the look of her eyes; her skin was a light color but not as pale as Summer’s, her long ebony hair tied up in a ponytail, styled in a way that it resembled a raven’s plumage; she was very tall with a muscular but curvaceous body, wide hips and a pair of large breasts (and Summer blushed deeper than before as she quickly realized that was what she had faceplanted); she was wearing a black-and-red outfit with samurai-like armor, a sword hanging from her hip. In short, she was the most beautiful woman that Summer had ever encountered.

“Hey! Are you deaf?”

Summer was jolted out of the spell she was under and realized that she had forgotten that the dark beauty had asked her a question. “Oh, sorry.” She mumbled but that seemed to make the other woman angrier.

“Sorry? You almost knocked me into the ground then just stare at me like an idiot and all you have to say is sorry?”

“Um, well…” Summer wasn’t very good at talking to new people and this girl’s attitude was making her more nervous and she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I really didn’t mean to put my face in your boobs!” ‘Idiot! Why did I say that?’

The tall, dark beauty looked at Summer like she couldn’t believe what has just come out of her mouth. The shock was so great that her grip on the back of Summer’s cloak loosed and the smaller girl was dropped back on the ground, who thankfully didn’t fall on her butt. The dark girl just kept staring at Summer with a mixture of annoyance and disbelief.

“Geez Rae, we haven’t been here for a day and you already have girls wanting your goods. I’m so jealous!”

The two women turned to look at the voice’s owner, a young man about their age, his hair, eyes and skin tone the same as the taller girl’s. He was wearing a white shirt that was half tucked in his black slacks and a ratty, red cape draped over his shoulders. Summer could see that he was also a sword user, the handle of his blade visible over his shoulder. And while his appearance was similar the dark woman’s, his face was instead set in a playful, teasing smirk.

While Summer looked at him with curiosity, ‘Rae’ appeared to be more exasperated and annoyed than before. “Shut up, Qrow.” She glared at who was obviously her brother though Qrow seemed unaffected by the burning eyes. “Aw, come on, sis.” teased Qrow. “No need to be embarrassed! You’re very good-looking so it’s not strange that people would want a closer look.”

“Qrow, I’m serious! If you don’t shut up, I’ll kill you!” He just chuckled softly with that teasing smirk, not looking worried at his sister’s death threat.

Summer let out a giggle at she watched the siblings interact, remembering how Ro and Dodger liked to tease Dawn all the time. Her giggles caught the twins’ attention, ‘Rae’ switching her glare to Summer while Qrow chose to introduce herself.

“Hey,” he gave a wave. “Name’s Qrow, and I see that you’ve met my big sister, Raven.”

“I’m Summer, nice to meet you both.” ‘Yay, I’m making friends!’ Qrow nodded. “Likewise,” then his smirk widened as he motioned to his still scowling sister. “And Raven feels the same but she’s too shy to say it.”

“Augh!” shouted Raven exasperatedly and stomped away as Qrow and Summer laughed.

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‘Stupid Qrow, can’t go one day without getting on my nerves! One day I’ll finally lose my patience and kill him for real.’ Thought Raven as she stood at the back of the crowd waiting for the opening speech. The crowd gave her spot a wide margin, most likely intimidated by the angry energy that Raven was emanating. Good, she wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone else today.

As she subtly watched the entrance while she quietly seethed, Raven saw her brother and the hooded girl come in. They exchanged a few parting words before the girl headed for a spot closer to the stage while Qrow looked around for a moment until he spotted Raven and headed towards her. Raven glared as he approached but, as always, it was ineffective. Immunity to Raven’s patented death glare was one of the advantages of being related to her.

“Hey, sis,” His greeting was met with angry silence. “Don’t tell me you’re still angry?” Raven’s glare intensified. “Come on, it was just some teasing! Your girlfriend thought it was funny.”

“She’s not my girlfriend!” That managed to break Raven’s silence. “Just some clumsy girl that bumped into me because she wasn’t paying attention. What is she even doing here? She looks like she’s, I don’t know, twelve or something.”

“Sixteen, actually.”

“Really? She was short for her age then. What else did you to talk about?” By this point, Raven’s anger was momentarily put aside as her curiosity was piqued.

“Mostly about our weapons, girl is a bit of a nerd about them and was interested in Harbinger. She then showed me her own and it was really impressive.” Qrow was himself a weapons enthusiast and crafter, so he clearly was happy about talking with someone with similar interests. “She also told that she got early admittance because she impressed the Headmaster.”

Raven’s eyebrow raised, interested. “Really, what did she do? Defeat a Beringle with her bare hands?”

“Don’t know, she said it was personal but that’s beside the point. If she managed to get into Beacon early then she must have some skills, apparent clumsiness aside.”

“Well, whatever we did to get in early doesn’t concern us or our mission, so don’t get too attached since, if she manages to graduate and become a Huntress, we might one day end up having to kill her.”

Qrow’s smirk faded into a frown as he was reminded of their mission. He hadn’t been happy when the Tribe’s leader told them to become students to learn how to counteract Hunters and make the Tribe stronger. Neither had Raven for that matter despite her harsh personality and love of fighting. She did not like killing people without a good reason, but the Leader’s word was the law on the Tribe so Raven resigned herself to completing the mission.

Qrow scoffed. “Whatever, I’m still going to talk to Sum later and no one from the Tribe is her to keep tabs on us, so what they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

“Ugh fine!” Raven said exasperatedly, knowing that she couldn’t stop him anyway. “Do what you want! Just don’t start flirting with her.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. She’s not my type anyway, even though she’s cute.” Qrow’s smirk was back as well as the teasing. “So, you don’t have to worry about me stealing your girlfriend.”

“Qrow!”

But before Raven could try to strangle him, Professor Ozpin cleared his throat to indicate that he was about to give his speech. So, Raven just settled for sending burning glares her brother’s way, but he just answered each of them with a smirk. Finally deciding to just ignore him, Raven focused on Ozpin’s words of ‘encouragement’, though she caught sight of a familiar white cloak near the front.

She found herself blushing as she remembered how the girl crashed into her chest but tried to shove these thoughts into a far corner of her mind as they would only distract her from the mission.

Though she admitted to herself (but to no one else, ESPECIALLY not Qrow), those silver eyes were quite beautiful.

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Yeah, I gave Summer Airbending as her Semblance, so I don’t want to hear any complaints! As for the comments about Summer having never gone to school, those are part of the backstory that I gave her for my story and it won’t be revealed until I have it posted. The same goes for the people that Summer mentioned.

Edit: In the part where Summer mentions the people who believe in her, I changed one of the names from 'Dawn' to Aurore (formerly it was Roxie) because I liked it better (and it means 'dawn' anyway).

#rose bird week #summer rose #raven branwen #qrow branwen #summer x raven #day 1 first meeting #alternate universe

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4lyeskas · 6 years

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a dialogue, not a fight

read it on AO3 SERIES: Voltron Legendary Defender PAIRING: Shiro x Keith RATING: T+ (allusions to past character death and violence) TAGS: past character death (Matt Holt); mentions of violence; pre-slash; Pacific Rim AU

a commission for sumafocases on Twitter

[ do not repost/edit | buy me a ko-fi? ]

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Five years ago, almost everyone would have pegged Shiro as a champion fighter. One of the Garrison’s top pilots, the Jaeger program’s poster boy, the wonderkid.

Shiro the Hero, they’d called him.

With the Voltron Jaeger, he and Matt had had six Kaiju kills on their list. On their watch, the California line had gone unbreached for three years, until it hadn’t.

Shiro remembers. Those kinds of things, they stick.

He still wakes up some nights to the sickened feeling of someone being there in his head and then not.

The winter starts to roll in. The cold makes his skin sting where it meets the metal and plastic of the prosthetic arm.

He lets it hurt.

He keeps his distance from the Garrison, the Jaeger program. They don’t look for him. He changes the channel whenever anything shows up on the news.

The emptiness of Matt’s room almost hurts more than the cards that Mr. Holt still sends every Christmas.

At the peak of the Jaeger program, the pilots had been rock stars. Shiro had been so uncomfortable sitting for interviews, posing for photos, seeing himself plastered on magazines.

The thing about being the poster boy for success is that it makes you an easy poster boy for failure. Pilot error is as good a reason as any for the failure of a three-Jaeger mission, as the program finds itself on shakier and shakier ground.

These days, nobody recognizes Shiro on the street anymore, which is fine by him.

He’s not a hero.

Allura finds him in Santa Monica, picking up shifts on the coastal wall project.

Not that the wall matters, not after they’ve just seen a Kaiju smash through it like it’s tissue paper. Shiro turns away from the news and walks out of the crowd of construction workers, into the cold. It takes him a moment to realize the gale whipping at him isn’t from the weather.

The helicopter lands some distance away from the construction site. Shiro can already guess what it’s here for.

Allura exits the helicopter gracefully, one hand holding her hair in place. She doesn’t seem at all surprised to see him there.

“Shiro,” she says, polite as you please. “It’s been a while.”

“Allura,” he parries. “You look well.”

“Indeed.” Her smile is thin and sharp, a scalpel blade. No pretenses. “Can I have a word?”

“You were rather difficult to find,” she comments, once they’re inside the relative warmth of the warehouse. “I had to chase you across a few cities.”

“Been moving along the wall.” Shiro shrugs. “Gotta make a living. What do you want?”

Allura looks at him for a long moment before she answers. “I’ve spent the last half year activating anything and everything we could get our hands on. Like an old Jaeger, a Kerberos unit. You might know it.” She raises an eyebrow. “It needs a pilot.”

Shiro snorts. “Doubt I’m the first choice here.”

“No, you are.” Allura leans against a pile of scaffolding. “In fact, you’re my only choice. The other Kerberos pilots are dead.”

This time Shiro takes a while before responding. He sighs, long and heavy; runs a hand through his hair. “Look--” He breaks off, bites his lip. “I can’t have anyone in my head again. And after the Garrison pinned all that on me, I can’t see why you’d want me.”

He shrugs, drops his shoulders, his head. Exhales sharp and pained.

“Haven’t you heard, Shiro?” Something about Allura’s tone makes Shiro look up. There’s the tiniest of smiles at the corners her eyes, her mouth. “The world is ending. So where would you rather die? Here, or in a Jaeger?”

The new base is at Kowloon Bay.

“The Garrison’s cut all funding for the program,” Allura tells him on the way over. “They let us transport the last Jaegers here, but other than that we’re on our own.”

“So we’re the cavalry,” Shiro quips, smirking.

“No.” There’s a twinkle in Allura’s eyes. “We’re the resistance.”

She takes him straight through the hangar to where they’re restoring his old Jaeger. They pass by the other units that are still active, other pilots. Shiro recognizes Ulaz and Thace, their Marmora Jaeger. He knows Pidge will be somewhere in all this, up to her elbows in Kaiju parts. He has half a mind to ask Allura, but saves it for later.

Voltron looms over them, looking almost like new.

Allura beams up at it. “She’s been almost completely done over. Keith tells me she’s got a whole new core, the newest tech.”

Shiro tears his attention away long enough to ask, “Keith?”

“Me,” says a voice from behind them. Shiro turns around to find a young man standing behind them, red jacket and a mess of black hair. He gives Shiro a once-over, then turns to the Jaeger. “I’m the mechanic.”

His scrappiness makes Shiro smile. “I’m the pilot.”

Keith sneaks a glance out of the corner of his eye. Shiro could swear he looks amused. “I know.”

If Keith thinks Shiro doesn’t recognize him after five years, he’s sorely mistaken. He just doesn’t know why the Garrison’s prodigy is out here working as a Jaeger grease monkey.

He’s only mildly surprised to find that when he steps into the gym -- when he can’t sleep, when he goes to quiet the restlessness under his skin -- Keith is already there.

In just a tank top and loose pants, he looks stronger than Shiro’s first impression. Keith startles a bit at the sudden intrusion, expression wary when he realizes who’s there.

“I don’t think I got to introduce myself earlier.” Shiro offers what he hopes is a friendly smile. “I’m Shiro.”

Keith looks at him flatly before pulling out some tape. “I know.”

So prickly, Shiro muses.

“And I know you.” Shiro looks Keith over. Decides to be a little brazen. “I’ve seen your fights.”

“And?” It’s almost a challenge.

“And what?”

Keith almost rolls his eyes. “What did you think?”

“You’re… unpredictable,” Shiro says, trying to be diplomatic. When Keith just stares at him with eyebrows raised, Shiro huffs out a laugh. “Fine. You’re volatile. You constantly deviate from standard protocols and combat techniques. You take risks that put you, your crew, and your surroundings in danger. You couldn’t hold a partner for more than a year.”

Keith snorts, rolls his eyes. “I have a ten-hit kill list.”

“I know.” Shiro grins. “I never said you weren’t good.”

Red blooms high on Keith’s cheeks before he can turn away. “Flattery’s gonna get you nowhere.”

Shiro just laughs again. “Allura said you had a hand in picking out my co-pilot candidates.”

Keith shrugs, starts to wrap his hands.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Shiro says, and heads back to his room.

There are four co-pilot candidates lined up. Allura’s vetted them herself. They’re well-trained and highly skilled. Shiro knocks all of them down to the mat with ease, in thirty minutes total.

Allura is unimpressed. Their audience murmurs in appreciation, admiration. There’s just one person that Shiro’s looking for, though.

(The red jacket tied around his waist is a dead giveaway.)

“Can we change this up?” Shiro asks loudly, turning to Allura where she stands at the head of the room. “Because this is getting us nowhere.”

“Do you have any suggestions?” she asks pointedly.

“Actually, I do.” Shiro adjusts his grip on the stave, swinging it round to point directly at Keith, who’s been standing at the back of the room. “How about we let him try?”

Allura narrows her eyes, just a little. “He’s our Jaeger mechanic.”

“And he’s wasted being stuck back here.” Shiro stands firm, holds her gaze. “You know how good he is.”

Allura stares him down. Shiro holds his ground. Then she sighs, turns to Keith. “Do you want to?”

Keith looks from Allura to Shiro, pursing his lips. Shiro looks right back in a challenge.

After a long moment, Keith pushes lithely off the wall, tugs his jacket off his waist.

“Fine.”

The room falls silent as Keith sets his boots at the edge of the mat, stave light in his hand. He walks up to and past Shiro, shoulders back, head high.

“Remember, this is about compatibility. It’s a dialogue, not a fight.” Shiro takes his place at the other end of the mat, smirking. “But I’m not gonna dial down my moves.”

“Good.” Keith’s answering grin is more feral, bared teeth. “Neither will I.”

Shiro moves first. Keith lets him. The stave stops a hair’s breadth from Keith’s forehead, but he doesn’t even flinch.

“One,” Shiro says quietly.

There is the space of a breath, then Keith’s knocked Shiro’s stave out of the way. He ducks around and Keith’s weapon is at Shiro’s throat.

“One-one,” Keith says, and there’s a smirk somewhere in that tone.

You’re on.

Keith fights like he pilots a Jaeger: fast, reckless, intense. He’s quick, stronger than Shiro expected. His approach makes Shiro think of a scrap fight in a back alley, bruised knuckles and a cut on the cheek.

Shiro does combat like in his own Jaeger: grounded, tactical, a solid and unwavering force. He keeps himself braced against Keith’s attacks, watches for openings and covers. Patience yields focus. Strategy yields victory.

Needless to say, they are evenly matched, and it’s exhilarating.

By the time Allura calls a stop to the fight, it’s four-three to Keith. Both of them are breathing heavily; Keith’s hair tied high and Shiro’s matted to his forehead. There’s a spot on Shiro’s ribs that’ll bruise in the morning.

But Keith’s smirk is echoed by the satisfaction ringing in Shiro’s body as they look at each other across the mat, so it’s worth it.

Here are their truths:

Keith carries anger with him like the knife strapped to his right thigh. He holds too many things close to his chest and resents having people in his head. Fury is an excellent mask for insecurity and fear. When you have lost too much, you remake yourself so that you keep no one and nothing, so you have nothing to lose anymore.

Shiro carries guilt with him written in the scars on his body, the raw edges of skin bitten into by metal and plastic. He wields it like a shield, lets it pool in his lungs. For all that he objectively knows it was not his fault, the thought still imprisons him with its weight. Self-destruction is not redemption but he doesn’t know what else to do.

Here is what they do:

Shiro stands beside Keith and teaches him that he doesn’t have to fight the world on his own, that there is more than enough to him and it is worth every effort.

Keith unspools Shiro’s brokenness and shame and says, I am staying right here, because Shiro is what he is and it is still worth everything.

In the drift, there is nothing you can hide.

But with everything between them, ragged edges and faint hope, they make it work.

The first time they hold the neural handshake successfully, the first time the Voltron Jaeger comes back to life -- the first time Shiro sees Keith laugh, head thrown back and carefree -- it makes the struggle worth it.

Shiro looks over at Keith and winks. “Let’s kick some Kaiju ass.”

Keith’s answering grin is like sunshine.

#sheith #takashi shirogane #keith kogane #voltron #vld #voltron: legendary defender #vld fanfic #fanfic #my fanfic #my writing #compilation #otp: across the universes #commission #commissions

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