#hes so reverent towards her i cant deal | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theoriginalladya · 3 years

Text

A Constant Wish

A Constant Wish

Summary: An anniversary, but not of the enjoyable kind. Nine years on, and Commander Shepard is still dealing with the fallout from Akuze. It's up to Kaidan Alenko to guide him through it.

Tags: Sole Survivor, survivor’s guilt, death, grief, Akuze, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, mshenko

Characters: Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko

NOTE: Four years ago today, my mother lost her battle with cancer. Today, even though I knew the date in my head, it didn't connect until my youngest brother mentioned something in our family text chat. It hit me like a ton of bricks, just as it did then. I've learned to move on, to keep going, to keep living, but this day each year is always the hardest fucking day to get through. And so I wrote this with her in mind for my Caleb Shepard who has his own ghosts to deal with.

Love you, Mom.

A daily thought, a silent tear, A constant wish that you were here

~~~~

Kaidan wakes suddenly, inexplicably, to darkness and the sense that something isn’t quite right. Not a nightmare, not someone waking him with a touch or a sound, but that unerring feeling that something is just… off. It isn’t panic so much as a general unease, but he’s used to listening to his gut these days; it’s saved his life or that of a squadmate or even Shepard himself more than once.

Shepard.

Rolling over, he discovers the bed is empty but for him. That sends his heart racing faster than he expects and he nearly falls face first to the floor as he scrambles out from beneath the covers. The time it takes to yank on his sweats and a t-shirt seems an eternity, but he is fully aware thanks to the cold flooring beneath bare feet.

A thorough search of the upper part of the apartment finds nothing out of the ordinary. The side note to that is he also fails to locate Shepard. Granted, he still has half the apartment to investigate, but the fact he cannot find a recent trace of his presence is a bit disconcerting.

He descends to the lower level and begins by checking the back room. Empty. Next, the living room and the bar. Also, empty. The lights in the kitchen are dim, just the way they left them when they headed upstairs after dinner. Still no sign of the man.

Kaidan tacks his way across to the opposite set of stairs to head back up – maybe he missed him in passing? As he walks past the hall branching off to his right into the den, habit has him glancing that direction. In front of the faint flickering fire light, he catches a silhouette; a familiar shape seated at the poker table, hunched over, glass in hand. Unease morphs to concern and curiosity, and he pads down the hallway, calling out softly as he reaches the doorway, “Shepard? You okay?”

The silhouette jerks suddenly as if startled, then relaxes with an exhale of breath. “I’m fine, mo ghrá.”

Kaidan takes the response as an invitation to join him, and he slides into a seat at the table. “Drinking alone? In the dark? Gonna have to do a better job of convincing me you’re fine,” he challenges, albeit gently.

Shepard huffs; a soft sound and one nearly drowned out by the pop and crackle of the fire. He sets the glass on the table, rises to his feet, and walks over to the small bar in the corner. Within moments, he returns with a bottle and a second glass. This he fills and pushes towards Kaidan, then tops off his own before reclaiming his seat. “Not alone now, am I?” he asks, setting the bottle down with a heavy thud next to what look to be four playing cards.

From his position and in the dimly lit room, Kaidan can’t tell which ones they are. However, knowing Shepard as he does, he can guess their purpose. Why are you down here drinking and doing card readings in the darkest hours of the night?

Taking the glass in both hands, he pulls it close but does not drink just yet. Before anything else, he wants, needs, some answers. “What are we drinking to?”

“Not what,” Shepard declares, blue eyes piercing through the dark to meet Kaidan’s as he lifts his head, “who.”

Kaidan acquiesces with a slight cant of his head. “All right. Who?”

Shepard lifts his glass in salute. “Sergeant Angela Nevarra.”

Kaidan frowns. The name sounds hazily familiar; he’s heard it before but cannot place it.

“Sergeants Carter, Evans and Decatur,” Shepard continues, clearly not expecting a response. “Corporals Harris, Simmons, Grassini, Aoki, and Meijer. Malik, Masterson, Owens, Jenson, Weston, Alvarez…”

Kaidan listens in silence but keeps his eyes on Shepard’s face as he continues to list them off. As the list gets longer, comprehension dawns. Shepard stops reciting names at forty-eight and the quiet surrounds them again. Cautiously, Kaidan asks quietly about one name that was not mentioned. “What about Toombs?”

“Toombs.”

There is a hint of brutality in the way Shepard says the name which Kaidan doesn’t quite understand. For everyone else associated with Akuze, there is a fondness, a reverence almost in the way their former commander speaks of them, but with Toombs, it’s different. “That’s his name, isn’t it? The one we ran into on Ontarom? Back –”

Shepard tosses back the last of his whiskey, swallows it in a large gulp, and shakes his head sharply once. “Aye, I remember.” He slams the glass onto the table with enough force the platform quakes for a moment. “Heard from him last year, did I ever tell you?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but Kaidan shakes his head anyway. The time they’ve spent together since his recovery, since the war began, they’ve avoided the more… controversial topics. Not that Kaidan blames him for not bringing it up; it’s probably just as well.

With a soft snort, Shepard grabs the bottle and pours another two-fingers worth of whiskey. This is the third drink Kaidan is aware of, and he can’t help but wonder how many Shepard drank when he was alone, before Kaidan found him.

Their eyes meet again, and the look in them… Well, Kaidan understands now just why the man’s name in Irish is sealgaire, the hunter. It’s all Kaidan can do to hold his ground. And, that is knowing that the look isn’t directed at him.

Shepard’s scowl is dark and foreboding as he tosses back this drink, and there is a vehemence in his voice Kaidan has only heard maybe twice since he’s known him. “Threaten me without knowing what happened?” the commander bites out. “Briseadh agus brú ar do chnámha! Go hifreann leat!”**

Kaidan reacts immediately, reaching forward and prying the glass from Shepard’s long fingers. “Okay, Shepard, that’s enough. I’m calling time for the night.”

Shepard struggles momentarily, apparently not satisfied, but a moment later releases his hold. Sighing heavily, he covers his face with his hands. “Tá brón orm,”**

Kaidan pushes the glasses and bottle across the table and out of easy reach and moves to crouch beside him. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Shepard’s hands drop away, and when the blue eyes meet his again, Kaidan recognizes the truth. His mother once told him that if an Irish man or woman expressed true sorrow for something, there would be matching sadness in their eyes. The sheer magnitude of the sorrow he sees in Shepard’s gaze just now is enough to level the Reapers and end the war three weeks ago, he thinks. He reaches over and runs a hand along Shepard’s cheek in a gentle caress of understanding. “Hey.”

Shepard leans into the touch, eyes closing. When they open again the sorrow still lingers, but not with the same intensity. Without the glass before him to toy with, he reaches for the playing cards lying face up. “D’you see these?”

Kaidan spares them a glance, tilting his head to get a better look. “Did you do another reading?”

“Aye,” Shepard agrees, “but not tonight. These… This was my reading that night. On Akuze, before the attack.”

Past – Two of Spades.

Present – Ten of Spades.

Future – King of Clubs.

Crossing Present – Ten of Diamonds.

None of it makes much sense to Kaidan – it never has – so he looks expectantly at Shepard. When he remains silent, Kaidan asks, “What did they tell you?”

Shepard pauses for a moment, turning his head to look straight at Kaidan. “That my world was going to go all to hell once again, but that this time, on the other side, I would find a path to my future…”

Kaidan looks at the cards again. He recognizes the King of Clubs – it comes up often in Shepard’s readings, though Kaidan isn’t aware of any special attachment to it. The rest he can’t tell of he’s seen in readings before or not. Shepard’s hand flops onto Kaidan’s shoulder, his fingers toying with his hair near his collar. When Kaidan smiles back, Shepard’s eyes flare with an intensity that might be unsettling under other circumstances, but thanks to recent events in their lives, he has a much better idea of how to deal with.

Rising to his feet, he sighs. Any further explanation on the cards can wait until the man is sober again. “Come on, we need to get you back to bed, I think.”

Shepard follows without comment or question, and, surprisingly, without stumbling. When they reach the stairs, Shepard surprises Kaidan by sliding his arms around his waist and hugging close to his back, resting his head on his shoulder. “You understand, aye?”

Already a step above the man, Kaidan stops and half turns to face him. The question is very open-ended and he cannot miss the obvious pain. It isn’t difficult to guess what he is referencing. “About Cerberus?” Shepard nods. Sighing softly, Kaidan wraps one arm over Shepard’s at his waist, and tilts his head close enough to ghost a quick kiss across his lips. “Do you honestly think I would be here now if I didn’t?”

Shepard’s face screws up in confusion for a moment, an endearing look Kaidan doubts the commander would ever agree with if he is made aware of it, so Kaidan keeps the observation to himself. Running his free hand over Shepard’s cheek again, he clarifies quietly, “Yes, mo shearc,** I understand. You are not them; you never were.”

Hope wars with uncertainty behind those blue eyes; it’s strange to see Shepard this vulnerable, and a little disconcerting. How much is the drink and how much just… is?

“You really believe that?”

Kaidan nods. “Aye, I do,” he replies, echoing Shepard’s usual response and leaning in for another kiss. “Now, come on. You need to sleep this off. We can talk more about it later if you like.” Though, as they ascend the stairs together, he is pretty certain it won’t ever come up again anytime soon. Perhaps this time next year, but not before. At least now, Kaidan is prepared.

~~~~

** mo ghrá = my love

** Briseadh agus brú ar do chnámha! = A breaking and crushing on your bones!

**Go hifreann leat! = To hell with you!

** Tá brón orm = I’m sorry

** mo shearc = my love

#A Constant Wish #Ladya writes #Caleb Shepard #mShenko #Kaidan Alenko #tw: grief #tw: death #Sole Survivor #survivor's guilt #emotional hurt/comfort #Akuze #angst #mass effect fanfiction

61 notes · View notes

catlordewrites · 4 years

Text

Between Rivers Chapter Three

A Mandalorian can't show their face to anyone - with the exception of immediate family. Although they haven't known each other long, there's definitely something growing between them. But is it enough? When an ex-spy must look beneath the helmet to save Din Djarin's life, there's only one option that allows him to continue following his Creed. Marriage.

This story can also be found on Fanfiction.net and Ao3.

Chapter One - Previous Chapter - This Chapter - Next Chapter

Chapter Three

Morning came gently on Movet. The sun’s rays found the mountaintops long before it reached the valleys, setting the snow on the peaks ablaze with white fire, which in turn reflected into the lower regions and cast them in an ethereal glow.

Din, of course, was awake long before then. He’d slept well on the bed of soft furs, having removed most of his armor save for the helmet. By the time he’d decided to sleep, he had relaxed enough to believe that the quarry had no ill intentions towards him, but that hadn’t stopped him from wedging the desk chair under the door and drifting off with his blaster in hand.

He took the predawn birdsong as his signal to start the day. Each piece of armor went back into place like scales. Despite the battered and worn nature of each piece, despite the dents and scratches - some present when he’d received it, others added since - he buckled each in place with reverence. His armor was an extension of himself. It kept him alive. It was his Creed. The Way.

When everything was in place, he was again tempted back into the front rooms by the smell of cooking. He made his way back to the kitchen, only to freeze in the doorway at the sight of a stranger fussing over a pan of bacon and eggs.

His hand had actually flown to his blaster before he recognized the elegant heart shaped face and squat build. Despite not having looked up at his entrance, a small amused smile twitched on the quarry’s lips.

“Glad to know my disguise is effective,” she said brightly.

Her hair was a little shorter now, hanging loose around her shoulders instead of draping down her back in a braid. The auburn hair he’d come to associate with her had been smothered by a rich shade of raven black. It was still damp from being rinsed. Beneath the smell of bacon was the bitter tang of dye.

Din nodded curtly. “It is.”

He was unexpectedly disappointed. Not that his opinion mattered in the slightest, but he’d thought the original fiery auburn had suited her quite well.

She hummed her appreciation and slid half of the bacon and eggs into a plate, which she passed to him, saying, “Well, we can’t all maintain anonymity behind a helmet, Mandalorian.”

“I suppose not.”

Her eyes were different too. Dark brown.

He tilted his head curiously.

Her brow furrowed for a moment as she studied him, then relaxed with an easy smirk. “Oh, the eyes! Colored contacts.”

“Huh.” He had to hand it to her, if he had just seen her in passing, he never would have known. “It’s… very good.”

She nodded at the half-forgotten plate he held. “Eat. I will tend the olfdo, and then we may leave.”

~0~0~0~ . ~0~0~0~

Half an hour later, they set out to find the Razor Crest. Din described the small clearing he’d landed in and where it was in reference to the river. The quarry said that she already knew.

He didn’t ask how.

As agreed, he didn’t comment on the blaster she tucked in her waistband or the knife hidden within her boot, though he did pay careful attention to them - just in case she changed her mind about their deal.

It was a long walk, but a nice one. Yesterday he had been in hunting mode and couldn’t afford to admire the sunlight filtering through the monolithic evergreen trees - even as he slunk through them. Now, he was able to appreciate the way the spongy carpet of lichen and fallen pine needles absorbed the sound of his footfalls as well as the faint hum of birdsong and summer insects that disguised his modulated breaths. Small mammals scurried through the underbrush, occasionally startling and diving back into burrows.

Some of the wolves - or olfdo, as the quarry called them - trailed after them for a while, weaving in and out of underbrush and snapping playfully at the insects they stirred up as they went. But eventually they melted one by one into the foliage.

He and the quarry chatted as they walked. Din found himself starting to enjoy her company. Although she neatly skirted any indirect inquiries about why she had a bounty on her or why she chose such an isolated place to retire, she was more than happy to discuss the olfdo, the landscape, and the Movetian lifestyle.

As expected, she was a jack of all trades. She talked woodworking, hunting, fishing, tanning, and local flora and fauna. Apparently she had a very large underground greenhouse where she grew vegetables and wildflower seedlings all year long.

He asked her what else she had hidden underground.

She chuckled knowingly, a sly glint in her dark eyes. “The essentials.”

Din had no idea what that meant, but was privately relieved that she’d been ready to strike a deal instead of making him work for her payload.

When they reached the energy perimeter, he was surprised to see it live and buzzing with electricity, as he hadn’t put it back up after deactivating it when he crossed. The quarry deactivated it with practiced ease and let him through.

He looked up from watching her recouple the lines to see Nana, the olfdo from the day before, standing on the other side and looking a little dejected. She twitched her ears at the Mandalorian and wagged her tail slowly.

“They gonna be okay while you’re gone?”

The quarry didn’t bother looking up from her work. “Yes. They have food.”

He hated to point out the obvious, but did so anyway. “And if you don’t come back?”

She sniffed. “They can also hunt.”

He nodded slowly, folding his arms across his chest. “There enough game within the perimeter?”

She nodded distractedly. “Mhm. Most of the time. The fielkir… the… the elk-deer… They jump straight over the barrier and come in and out all the time.”

Din grunted in acknowledgement.

“And, worse case, the olfdo can leave and hunt beyond,” she went on. “They do not like to, but the electricity doesn’t slow the adults down much…”

Din filed that away for later.

“...but it keeps the young ones in. And most predators out.”

His head tipped to the side. “The Olarba?”

The barrier hummed back to life. The quarry turned to face him, expression dark. “Most of the time.”

From there, it didn’t take long to reach the Crest. By then, it was well into the afternoon and the small clearing he’d stowed the ship in was slanted with golden light.

The quarry hummed her approval as she padded across the mossy ground, appraising the blaster cannons with an experienced eye. “Pre-Empire. Solid design. You’ve done well to keep her from the Imperial impounds.”

Din tapped at his vambrace, unlocking the hatch and lowering the ramp before leading the way onboard. The darkness within was welcoming after the long trek across unfamiliar woodland. A few of the lights flickered on, but didn’t offer much besides illuminating the dull metal walls and a few of the dusty crates shoved into the corners. It was empty and decrepit, but it was home. Or at least the closest thing he had to one.

The quarry’s soft footsteps on the ramp reminded him that there was more to do before he could relax. Din turned to face her. She stood between him and the hatch, framed by sunlight. He couldn’t make out her eyes in the darkness, but her stance was non threatening and relaxed.

“What’s the plan from here?” He asked, a little uncertain.

The quarry peered around his shoulder, her eyes flickering around the bay before settling on the carbonite freezer and the other bounties stowed behind it. She nodded satisfactorily to herself.

“Your normal method is the freezer, I take it. We can conclude our business now, then.”

Din frowned. “You sure?”

She felt inside one of her coat’s interior pockets and came away with a hefty pouch of credits. She bounced it once in her hand before holding it out to him.

When she spoke again, it was without her usual brusque Movetian accent, but with a different lilt that sounded as if it had been derived from Huttese and then lightly textured with slave cant. She delivered it flawlessly.

“Yeah. It’s the easiest way. For both of us, I think.”

He was still processing the sudden change in tone as she trotted over to the carbonite freezer and settled back into the harness. He finally followed, the credit pouch held forgotten in his hand.

She looked up at him expectantly.

Din hesitated, but wasn’t entirely sure why. Yeah, it was easier. Especially for him. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to being alone on his ship, deep in hyperspace where he could take off his helmet without constantly having to be on guard. But he’d found her to be easy company, something that didn’t happen often in his field of work, and he was at loathe to lose it so quickly.

A glimmer of surprise crossed her face. She studied him, her brown furrowed with concern. “Is there a problem?”

He flushed hot with embarrassment, but didn’t outwardly express it.

“No,” he grunted. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I’ve been in carbonite before,” she added. “I know what to expect. When you’re ready.”

He nodded once, then pressed the button on the side of the harness. When the fog cleared, he was left staring at her pretty face, stiff and lifeless under a coat of cold metal. Her eyes had squeezed closed at the last moment, her brow furrowed, frozen in an expression of mild discomfort.

Despite knowing that this was what she wanted, Din couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Would it have been wrong to insist that she stay out of the carbonite until they reached Nevarro? He didn’t have much to offer, but a part of him would’ve liked the opportunity to return her hospitality.

He scoffed at himself. Yeah, field rations and an uncomfortable bunk. Nice, Djarin.

The trip to Nevarro felt longer than usual. Din spent the trip doing his best to push the quarry out of his mind. He still had questions, of course. She was strange, yes, but fascinating. The name on the fob was Ena Sma, but from what he’d seen, he doubted that it was her real one. Just how many aliases did she have? And why?

He lost the chance to ask when he turned the fob over to Karga. He didn’t watch her be unloaded from the cargo hold of his ship.

He never tried to figure out what happened to her after, if she cleaned up the issue with the spice dealers or got killed in the process. He tried to convince himself that he didn’t care, but caught himself toying with the idea of visiting Movet again.

More than once.

Each time, he roughly dismissed the thought. What did it matter to him? She’d kept her end of the deal and he was 10,000 credits better for it. Part of his end had been to stay away from her little homestead. Not to mention that he had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn’t be welcomed back with open arms,

Needless to say, he didn’t think he’d ever see her again.

~0~0~0~ .

13 notes · View notes

malibvnghts · 3 years

Text

@2op4u / cont

Creaking of the doors upon entry reverberates loudly in the silence of the throne room. The air still with the chill of a thousand icicles that dare to pierce the very layer of skin bare to the air. Gentle sparkle of cryo, and yet something almost felt warm and inviting within these very walls. Clack of boot soles pick up pace after the shut of the door in approach. Slow sway of hips with each step, allowing presence to be known in approach. Even in the space of the Tsaritsa, the harbinger holds a gentle calm surrounding his persona. One person he’d do anything for. To permit their goals to come to fruition. What their desires withhold within their forms. Childe prepared to give his life for that very goal in mind.

At the base of the throne, he proceeds to drop to a single knee in bow, a lower of his head as the archon turns attention toward one of her harbingers. Youthful and yet all the same a weapon of war. Deep blue hues stare toward the chamber ground until at last her voice cuts through the stillness of the air. Snap of gaze upward to face as he lifts himself up from the ground. Sway of cloth in the motion, a pause in intent until she takes upon her seat with a softness to words yet still as emotionless as anticipated from Tsaritsa.

Nothing he never witnessed before. A memory of a sight in the back of his mind upon return from the Abyss, to lift himself before his Archon, and give his entire being to her from that moment forth. Delusion on his person one reminder of the very moment. A gentle soul yet hardened from the years. Wrap of a hand behind his back, pressing back side against his lower back. No sigh or signs of remiss, instead he keeps a calm about himself even before someone of such prowess.

To falter now meant caving in to fear, repression. Something readily experienced through belittlement of comrades, yet a smile to stay plastered to those boyish features. “Either good nor bad, I assure. I am afraid we have yet to make any more progress, yet we have not slipped backward. Plans are moving along as discussed. Our contracts are still revered in high esteem throughout Liyue, so no funding has been lost to us.” The technicality of it all slips easily past his lips. Arm drops back to his side, canting his head slightly to the left. “It has been quite some time since I returned to Snezhnaya personally,” admitting to such. “If you care for some company, I am happy to oblige.”

she listens to his report , sounds as if ALL harbingers have come to an impasse with their mission . no one is advancing , but no one has yet met a problem to retreat . progress is slow , but it is progress so she will not complain . this battle has gone for centuries , she can do with another few centuries ; haste makes waste and mistakes , she needs this to be PERFECT as she only has one chance . “ we are pleased to hear that there has not been much difficulties in the progress in liyue harbor , ” she says when he concludes his report , “ should you require more manpower , do not hesitate to call for them . ” she continues , but she knows morax is a REASONABLE man . . . childe should not be faced with any sort of problems when dealing with the geo archon . that is . . . if morax is still as she remembers centuries ago , at the end of the war ; despite his ferality , morax’s region has flourished greatly , so he must have gained some SENSE of humanity . childe mentions having not returned in a while . the tsaritsa recalls he has family here . family he’s seemingly still close to . no , not seemingly . he is close to . they must have been anticipating his return . she must not monopolize his time then . she will make do with a brief moment of respite with her harbinger , perhaps a quick meal or tea . . . then she’ll send him on his way home before he returns to liyue to attend to his matters . standing from her throne , hand reaching to take the staff next to her seat . . . to the untrained eye , the staff next to the throne seems just as it is . . . a decorative piece . to those that knew her well , the staff is but a spear in disguise . a weapon within her reach , standing as if to threaten those about her . she’s never made a move to conceal her weapon like those around her , the weaponry dissipating into thin air and summoned when needed . she does not mean to make herself seem harmless , the tsaritsa wishes for people to see her as a THREAT . but she is not here to threaten her beloved eleventh harbinger . she hands the spear to one of the maids trailing behind them , while the other breaks away to inform the kitchen that the tsaritsa wishes to dine . “ will you be returning home before leaving again ?? ” the tsaritsa asks , “ we would like to gift you and your family things for gratitude of your loyalty and dedication , ” she says , “ if you are returning home this eve , you may take it with you . . . or if you are in a rush , we can send an envoy with the gifts . ”

#( tsaritsa | threads )#2op4u

1 note · View note

jadekitty777 · 4 years

Text

See You Heal

Hey everyone, long time no update, right? Aha!

Alright time for something a little different but still sweet. This entry is a work entirely inspired by @ladyrobiness‘ beautiful Slow Sunrise series. I woke up one morning and the idea just hit me like a truck and well... I had to write it out.

This is a continuation to that series so, reading it first is absolutely required. But why wouldn’t you? It’s a beautiful Fix-It fic with lots of tender moments of healing for Qrow and Clover both along with them just falling in love like the adorable dorks they are <333

Here are the Ao3 links to both:

Robiness’ Story: Slow Sunrise series

My Story: See You Heal

It’s also below the cut!

Rating: K+

Pairing: Qrow/Clover

Word Count: 2800

Summary: Qrow knows ignoring the problem only makes it worse. Unfortunately, dealing with it has its own set of problems too.

Sometimes, Qrow wished his standard for dealing with shit wasn’t ‘‘Ignore it until it goes away’.

It didn’t work. He knew it didn’t work – and yet sometimes his traitorous brain thought: maybe this time it’ll be different. So, when the issue of Clover not liking anyone at his six came up, like a scroll that had been factory reset, he defaulted. Hoped in the most ironic ways that the problem would just fix itself or at the very least, never become a problem.

That was why, as he gusted through the air trying to spot the nearest nomadic settlement, all he could see instead was Clover’s dismayed expression.

Really, he only had himself to blame.

They’d been traveling through Vacuo’s unforgiving desert for hours. It was a six-day journey to reach Shade Academy, most of which they had to do on foot as no locals at the city border ever escorted anyone across the desert without a price. Though they’d gotten an early start, beginning their trek even before the sun had peaked the horizon, as the day waned the sands around them began to shimmer as the heat rose to unbearable heights. Add onto that an unstable ground that left them all unsteady on their feet, relentless winds that whipped sand along exposed skin and eyes, and the occasional Grimm or wildlife lying in wait for an attack, and it just seemed like a recipe for disaster.

So, when the Sidewinder Grimm leapt from the dunes they were walking across and struck out at Weiss, all but two of them either didn’t react fast enough, or stumbled when they tried. The first of the two that had was Clover, who had his fishing line around Weiss in an instant and yanked her his way. The second was Ruby, who sped above the field like a shot, petals and dust following her wake as she managed to get in the first blow.

Within seconds, the rest of them recovered and suddenly the snake had ten skilled opponents bearing down on it. It certainly wasn’t a long battle, but enough to get the adrenalin going. The kids seemed to take it as they saw it, realizing the threat was over once the smoke cleared. But more veteran huntsmen like himself kept on guard a little longer.

Or like Clover – who wasn’t expecting Jaune to come up behind him and give him a congratulatory pat on the back.

The reaction was instantaneous. Clover yelped as he twisted and swung Kingfisher right at the boy’s head.

The clang of metal hitting metal seemed to echo the world into silence.

Jaune, shield shadowing his face, looked tense and a little frightened.

Clover just looked horrified.

And then he was faltering back, dropping his weapon into the sand. “I’m- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to- are you okay?!”

“I’m, fine.” Jaune answered a little shakily, trying to laugh it off. “I don’t think now is the time for a training exercise though.”

Clover tried to meet him, but his own chuckle rang hollow. “No. No it’s not.” He ran a hand agitatedly through his hair. “I really am sorry. I, I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s too hot.” Weiss was the one to offer, turning the attention her way. “I’m having trouble too.”

It sounded logical. Believable. Of course the Atlesians weren’t accustomed to blistering heat like this and would be most likely to succumb to its’ effects.

Only Qrow knew the truth of the matter. Tried not to think how a desert wasn’t so unlike a tundra – open space, unsteady footing, extreme weather.

“We need to get out of this sun.” Blake decided.

Ruby nodded in agreement. “Right. Uncle Qrow, can you scout ahead and see if you can spot something?”

That’s how he ended up in the sky, canting in great big circles like a vulture and looking to every horizon as he tried to make out a camp or an outcropping or a cactus. Anything that might provide shade or water. It took a few cycles, increasing his radius at every turn, before finally managing to see several flutterings in the distance. Upon closer inspection, he knew it was the tarps of caravans, moving southwest. Which meant stable ground and civilization.

He dove back towards the group, morphing just shy of his landing. “Looks like someone’s on the move several miles that way. There’s probably a temporary camp nearby.”

Or if there wasn’t, there would be.

“Right, then let’s move.” Ruby ordered, turning to the robot beside her. “Penny maybe you can try and keep us cool in the meantime?”

“I will give it my best shot!”

Their conversation faded to background noise as his focus instead shifted to Clover who, for the first time since they’d begun traveling together, took lead instead of rear. A silent attempt to rebuild goodwill. But his posture was held straight, an unnatural rigidity to his movements.

Qrow joined him, not quite reaching for his hand, but allowing their knuckles to brush together. The effect was miniscule, but there, just the slightest drop of his shoulders as his face eased into a small, not-quite-there smile.

Okay. He could work with this.

It was funny how easy it was to trick a Vacuon when they thought they were the ones playing it. All it took was some altruistic speeches from the kids about wanting to help because that’s what huntsmen did and the words “free of charge” and suddenly they were traveling with a whole parade of people who thought they were getting protection for nothing. Which was mostly true – except of course, now they had a place to stay in and quicker way to the academy.

It also kept them busy, trading off shifts throughout the day to keep watch on their surroundings. Which meant it was almost two days later before he finally had a moment alone with Clover. The wayfarers who they were assisting had a strict habit of bearing down at the hottest part of the day to conserve resources and energy. With JNPR 2.0 on duty and RWBY helping with lunch, Qrow took the opportunity to retire to their makeshift quarters.

As he stepped into the tent, he found his segue into the conversation was going to be more on the nose then he’d planned for.

Clover was seated on one of the various sleeping mats, Harbinger in his lap as he tended to her gears. “Hey.” He greeted. “How’d scouting go?”

“Uh. Fine.”

Seeming to sense his unease, the huntsman paused, looking between him and the weapon. “Oh, sorry! I guess I should do this later.”

“No!” The word burst out of him, startling them both. Qrow cleared his throat, repeating more levelly, “No, it’s fine really. I told you to take care of her.”

To prove his statement, he took the few steps forward to sit directly across from him.

Clover eyed him skeptically for several long moments, perhaps trying to puzzle out if he was trying a backwards form of recovery or just talking big. He seemed to decide the former as he bent back over the sword. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. A lot of grit is getting in-between the gears. But I’m worried about messing up the mechanics.” He offered him a smile. “Harbinger’s really intricate. You did an amazing job.”

“Laying it on a little thick there, aren’t ya Ebi?” He scooted forward just a little, pointing to the correct parts as he spoke. “First loosen the spindle here. Then you can take out the suspension spring and remove this gear.”

They spent the next several minutes just going about the task. Even though he was guiding another’s hands through the motions, the work was so familiar it was relaxing. He even found it possible to keep hold of the small, easily lost pinions as they were removed. All the while, he studied Clover as he worked, the way his brow furrowed with deep concentration or how his strong hands never faltered as he took out each gear with care and reverence. As if the weapon was as cherished as his own.

“Last one.” Qrow announced as the fifth pinion was dropped into his palm.

“You know, before I really was praising you.” The smallest cog came out with a small pop, being added to the growing collection on the cloth Clover had laid out. He finished his statement with a mirthful smile, “But now I’ve determined you went too far.”

He snorted. “Sorry my sword-scythe-shotgun hybrid is a little more complicated than your basic fishing rod.”

He gasped in mock offense. “My darling may not have all your weapon’s fancy little tricks, but it gets the job done with just as much grace.”

“Oh, that’s what you call all that flailing around?”

“Watch it Branwen.”

“What? Am I-” The rest of his words ‘on thin ice’ died in his throat. “Uh-”

This time, Clover misinterpreted his floundering. “What, am I doing it wrong?”

He focused on where the other’s hands were, his own quickly reaching out to catch his, only to abort the motion just as quickly when his fingertips skimmed Harbinger’s surface. That Clover noticed.

He ran the same hand over the back of his neck. “Uh, don’t remove that unless you want her coming apart completely.”

“Alright.” Clover lifted his hand from the center plate obediently. “Are you doing okay or should we stop?”

Dropping the pinions onto the cloth beside the other parts, he tried not to let it feel like too much of a failure. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Why would I be uncomfortable?” He replied with a frown.

Qrow stared. Was he being serious right now? “You’re kidding. If anything you should be more repelled to be holding her than me.”

“But I’m not. I never have been.”

The frustration broke over like a wave so that his next words flooded out like a tide of turbulent emotions, “Why not? You’re the one who got hurt! Why is it so easy for you?!”

No, no. Shut up.

He slouched over, scrabbling hands through his hair, tugging at the ends as if it would ground him back to the present.

This was going all wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be getting angry.

“I-I mean-” He started to say.

Clover cut him off. “Have you ever considered things were different from my perspective?”

He blinked. Looked up. “What?”

The other huntsman’s gaze drifted, falling down to the blade still in his lap. He ran his palm along the surface. “I never saw it. Or if I did, my mind’s blocked it out. I… remember pain. How hard it was to breathe. But as far as anything I saw in that moment? All I can think of is gray. A dark gray, almost black, but kind of green too?”

Qrow frowned, trying to piece that together. Atlas wasn’t exactly known for its abundance of greenery. The only green thing he could think of was Clover’s own pin. Maybe it was just his body going into shock, making him see things that weren’t actually there.

“Either way,” He continued, idly tracing the intricate patterns embedded in the sword’s metal. “What I’m getting at is, the only reason I know this was the weapon that struck me is because I was told it was. To me, it’s kind of removed from the whole event.” His movements stopped, that same dismayed look from several days ago clouding his features. “Instead, I have other problems.”

Seemed like they were going to have that conversation after all. “Like what happened with Jaune.”

“Yeah. I hadn’t meant to attack him. I just thought…” Clover slumped, trailing off.

“That he was someone else. I know.” Qrow said in the space left behind. “Known for awhile, actually. I knew it was an issue, but I hadn’t said anything. Tch. I should of. Maybe then-”

A flick to his forehead had him jerking back.

“Stop.” Clover’s fingers soothed over the spot, sliding down along the contours of his face to cup his jaw. “You’re not responsible for my problems Qrow. It’s my job to acknowledge them and ask for help if I need it.”

There was a lot of things he thought to say, the most prominent being how Clover never seemed to have an issue laser focusing on Qrow’s problems and addressing them (though, to be fair, those results didn’t always pan out) – but what he finally decided on saying was, “Do you need help?”

Teal eyes went wide and he drew back. The look on his face, vulnerable and lost, was heartbreaking. “I, uh. I don’t know.”

“Would you like to try something?” He pressed on gently.

“Like what?”

“An exercise.” He waved towards Harbinger. “Set her aside and take off your shirt – Don’t smile like that, I’m not gonna do anything lecherous.”

Clover laughed. “Ah, there goes all my hopes and dreams.” Still, he did as commanded, laying the blade to his left before peeling off the green shirt he wore.

Qrow managed not to stare at the metal plating built into the center of his chest, stitching his body together like a broken doll. Instead he reached forward, undoing the red bandanna around the man’s arm – one of the only things he’d kept of his old uniform, besides the boots – and tied the cloth around his eyes instead.

“Uh, Qrow?” Now blind, Clover sounded a lot more uncertain.

He ran a hand through short brown locks. “When I used to teach, I would do this with the students.”

“Lot to unpack with that statement.” He was barely containing a laugh.

It was his turn to flick him. “Shut it and listen.” He got to his feet, speaking as he rounded the other. “It was usually for typical stuff. Figuring out what movements they knew by reflex and what they needed to work on. Keeping an ear on their surroundings when their eyes can’t. But sometimes,” He stopped directly behind him. “It was to help break bad habits.”

Clover was already tense. “Really?”

“Ruby’s footwork used to be terrible. Got worse when she discovered her semblance – she was tumbling all over the place. Taking away her sight made her focus harder on every step she made. Made her more aware of everything she was doing.” Qrow reached out, fingertips brushing along the base of Clover’s neck, the skin shuddering under his touch. “That’s what I want you to do. Focus on the way your body reacts and correct it.”

“This… seems a little unconventional.”

He knelt down behind him. “Sometimes it’s the unconventional methods that work. Now,” He laid his palm flat along metalwork layered over his spine, hearing the sharp inhale. “Let’s get started.”

Qrow couldn’t say for how long, exactly, the exercise went on for – but it was certainly not as long as he would have kept one of his students at it. Where he’d push them to continue even just a minute longer, he was more willing to pull back with the brunette, knowing this was taking a mental toll along with the physical one. So, when he noticed Clover’s efforts were turning to frustration, he was quick to call for a break, offering that maybe they could finish up with Harbinger in the interim.

Clover, stubborn man he was, didn’t want to quit entirely though.

That was how they ended up sitting back to back as Qrow polished off the gears and pins and Clover set them into place.

Healing takes many forms, Qrow mused as he handed over the third cog and reached for the next, the anxiety he normally felt completely, blissfully absent.

Felt the stretch of muscles against his own as Clover worked, his erratic breathing and shakes having steadied a while ago.

One day, he hoped they could come out of this without their demons controlling them.

Yet, he knew recovery was a difficult, haphazard mess of a journey; so that day was in a future he still couldn’t quite discern, no matter how hard he looked.

Not that he could say he was surprised. His life had never been simple and that track record wasn’t going to let up a four decades’ long streak so easily – but, for once, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

For the one brightness he could see in all this was right behind him.

Qrow slid down, just enough to rest his ear against the metal along Clover’s back, the reassuring thump-thump-thump of his heart a gift he’d never waste.

For it beat with the promise that he was here.

He was alive.

And, Qrow recklessly dared to believe, he was his.

Another gift he’d never waste.

A devotion he’d never dishonor.

A love he’d forever hold onto.

#qrow branwen #clover ebi #fair game #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

8 notes · View notes

teabunnypaws · 5 years

Text

Constellations Collide

An art trade I did with @dreamerdraws2018 !!! A fic about her OC’s Galileo and Nova meeting!!!

I hope you all Enjoy!!! Fic under the cut!!

On the outskirts of San Francisco, there stood a rather elegant looking post office. Humans and toons alike strolled by it nonstop and even got their mail from the place without ever stopping to think that it could be more than it seemed. The stylish exterior and tall clock spire made the place seem on the up and up, almost...church like in a way, but this place was anything but holy, despite the angel that lurked within its walls.

Oh sure the mail ran in and out, but behind the sacks of mail and the rows and rows of post office boxes, up a hidden staircase there was an office that housed one of the most powerful and feared Mafia Dons in the whole city.

It was a perfect cover, packages going in and out could hold anything...booze, drugs, weapons...even other toons and people..it all depended on how much money was paid and what deals had been laid. But despite the usual smooth workings of his empire, it had been...a day.

A very long…

Long…

ANNOYING day.

Excruciatingly so, if Galileo was being honest. Paperwork, calls, people just being downright damn bunglers at their jobs. It was quickly building up into too much for him and that...well that was bad news for everyone.

If the boss wasn’t happy, no one else was happy either.

Seated at his desk, surrounded by the organized stacks of paper, Galileo closed his eyes as he ran over the thoughts of the day. A low growl rumbled in his chest, the sound startling his men that stood at parade rest in the room. Slowly, they all tensed, subtly glancing at one another with a twinge of nervousness in their gazes. One had to learn to read the room when working for a Don, or you could find yourself looking like swiss cheese.

The constellation freckled angel shoved back from the desk, the movement and noise of the wheels of the black leather chair against the fine wood flooring startling the men. As he stood and pulled open one of his drawers, many pairs of eyes followed, shoulders and legs tensing as their boss reached into it and pulled out a rather expensive looking pair of shoulder holsters laden with a pair of even more expensive looking guns.

The lines of tense shoulders relaxed as the guns remained in place after the holsters were slipped on, Galileo shifting and adjusting slightly, making sure that should his wings come out, they wouldn’t snag on the straps. It was a custom made fit, perfect for one such as himself.

Once armed, sharp steps took the angel to a nearby coat rack where he tugged his jacket from its hook along with his hat, slinging them both on and giving a sharp turn of his head to the men. They were quick to stand up a bit straighter and suck in their guts a bit to avoid earning the boss’s ire. The silence hung heavy in the air for a moment, as if he enjoyed watching them shift and sweat under his gaze. Mercifully, he spoke, his voice tight with the annoyance he was feeling, “I’m going for a walk. Damien’s in charge.” And with that short and simple order, out he marched, the heels of his shoes snapping against the hardwood floor.

None were foolish enough to stand in the way, since..well..none of them had a deathwish at this time.

Once out of his office, Galileo let out a slow exhale, his eyes falling closed a moment as he stood with his back to the door. It was a simple looking door, plain oak with a frosted glass window; the words 'MAIN OFFICE' painted in gold lettering in the middle. Such a plain looking door, no one would ever suspect that the head honcho of a well known Mafia worked here...just as it should be.

He sighed and adjusted his coat before briskly walking towards the stairs that led down through the floors of the main building. Due to the hour, the usually bustling place was eerily quiet, giving the whole building an almost reverent feel to it. Galileo smiled just a bit as he made his way down the stairs, his gloved hand smoothing along the polished brass of the railing. The coolness of the metal soothed him as his footsteps echoed almost like gunshots in the silent building. High windows let in rectangles of light that shifted over his shoulders as he rounded a landing and continued downward.

Once on the main floor, he strolled past the main mail room, and past the rows and rows of boxes standing a silent vigil over the first floor. It was almost claustrophobic in a way, all those little doors stacked and piled so tightly together in such a small space. The room was quiet, and smelled of floor polish, soft motes of dust drifting lazily through the sunbeams from the nearby windows. Galileo give a glance at his rather well established front and couldn't help but smirk before he pushed open the wood and glass paned door. Effortlessly, he stepped out onto the front stoop and into the cool sunset air, taking a slow breath and looking around.

It was a beautiful sight to his eyes. Though it wasn't the main city, they still had their traffic, their toons and people running here and there like ants over a picnic. The angel stood there a moment, surveying his domain. Trucks and cars rolled by with their chugging engines, humans and toons milling about in their own lives. Coming from work, going to work..it was like a heartbeat...a heartbeat that pulled a ghost of a smile from Galileo as he made his way down the steps and onto the sidewalk to join the river of people.

Reaching into the inner pocket of his coat, Galileo pulled out a small silver case and a box of matches. Opening the case, he easily plucked a cigarette from its slot and slipped it between his lips. A swipe of a match on a nearby building and it lit with a brilliant flare, quickly quieting down to a small dancing flame as he cupped it close to his face, lighting the cigarette and taking the first slow draw. His tension lowered with that first inhale, flicking the burned out match aside as he pulled the cigarette from his lips and blew a slow lazy stream over his head into the sky, his eyes closing from the moment of bliss.

Continuing onwards, he set his sights on the far end of town, observing how the city changed as he got closer and closer to the edge. It was early in the evening, the sun slowly starting to dip towards the horizon, leaving heavy shadows on the pavement that stretched out wide as though to swallow up the small neighborhood. His eyes lifted to the blaze of oranges that lit the sky on fire, the slight twinkling of stars barely visible as night slowly drew closer with each step he took.

Beautiful…

A small smile quirked his lips as he pushed his coat back from his hips and sank his hands into his pockets, his back giving that slight telltale itch it always did when his wings were due to emerge. Galileo wound his way through the foot traffic, passing by human and toon alike until soon, sidewalk gave way to soft green grass and pebbles beneath his shoes.

He took one last long drag of his cigarette as his wings shifted and flexed outward, splaying wide as they appeared with the falling of the sun behind the horizon. A little sigh of smoke as he let the butt fall from his fingers, grinding it under his shoe before large wings flexed and with a strong downbeat, he became airborne.

Galileo barely took notice as his little strip of town became smaller and smaller at his feet, catching a thermal and easily riding it up and up, the wind whipping past his face and tousling his hair and clothes. His eyes scanned the landscape before he found his bearings and began to wing towards the observatory.

It was his secret place; a spot he went to decompress and handle the stress of his daily life and the small smile on his face grew calm and more natural as he swooped down and landed delicately on the small ledge that encircled the top floor. The telescope was there of course, but he preferred to be outside, where he could observe the skies in the open air.

Everything was going great, he was unwinding, decompressing...the tightness in his jaw was slowly unclenching. The knots at the base of his wings, the throb behind his eyes was ebbing away until he heard humming of all things.

To most it might have been a beautiful, melodious, even appropriate sound for the peaceful imagery before them, but to Galileo, it might as well have been nails on a chalkboard. Someone...had invaded his private thinking spot and his wings bristled in agitation. Part of him wanted to reach for one of his guns and blow the offender away, but...body disposal was not something he wanted to deal with at the moment.

Least of all by himself.

So instead, he decided for an alternative tactic. Dames were easy to frighten, especially ones that were foolish enough to go out wandering by themselves without an escort. So with a confident, if not malicious smirk, he opened his wings and glided down to the lower observation balcony where the song was coming from.

He took a pause to run his hand back through his hair to tidy it, straightening his lapels and his tie to make himself look pristine. One had to look the part when delivering a threat after all. So after a moment of preening and smoothing himself out, he squared his shoulders and made his way around the balcony to confront the intruder. Everything about him read intimidation; from the slight upward cant of his wings to make himself appear larger, to the deep disapproving scowl that etched his features.

Without trying to mask his footsteps, he moved around the corner to see a woman sitting on a folding chair with a small easel in front of her, busily capturing the twilight before her in sharp elegant sweeps of her brush. He paused for a moment, eyes flicking over the scene to take in just what was happening.

She was an unusual looking dame as far as Toons went, being one of those with a fairer grey complexion than those whose flesh was varying shades of ink black. Her face was rather elegant and gentle as she continued to put paint to canvas with deft strokes. Her hair was long, piled up into a messy bun atop her head with the tail hanging down, perhaps disheveled from her time working. Her hair actually caught his eyes for a moment, looking for all the world like the star laden sky that would soon be above them, her violet eyes flicking from the canvas back out to the horizon.

She looked serene...peaceful…

And he instantly loathed her.

This was HIS peaceful retreat, his calming place...and how dare she come in and steal his serenity for herself. He set his teeth, wings fluffing in annoyance as Galileo prepared to defend what he saw as his. “And just what exactly do you think you’re doin’? Spyin’ on me? Who do you work for hm? You might as well tell me, otherwise...things might get messy.” He said, his voice not holding back on the malice and authority as he stood next to this intruder, his arms folded over his chest.

Galileo’s glare settled onto her easily, the woman barely paused in her work as if she hadn’t noticed him...which annoyed him even MORE. Ugh. It was reasons like this he couldn’t stand dames most of the time. She turned her gaze up to him, a frown of her own etching over her lovely features as she slowly dunked her brush into a small mason jar of spirits and swirled it about. “I’ve been here for hours. It’s a public place, so I have just as much right to be here as you do.” She said, her voice prim and sharp as she returned his glare rather than cowering from it.

The constellation angel’s wings bristled again as she changed brushes and dabbed a bit of paint and continued back to her work. Ohhh now that burned him up. If there was one thing he despised, it was being disrespected. No matter that he was the one that had intruded on this poor woman’s private time...she had dismissed him. HIM of all people! “A public place huh? I can change that with just a phone call.” Galileo’s voice was tense with the threat as he stared down at her. “Then I’ll have th’ cops come and throw you out of here.”

A light scoff of laughter filled the air and she looked at him with a raised eyebrow and an almost amused expression. “Well you haven’t made that phone call yet, and it takes police at least a half hour to get out this way, so until then, I’ll remain right here finishing my landscape thank you very much.” She replied tersely, looking up at him with a stern look of dislike.

Again...dismissal…

He snarled, moving forward threateningly his wings flaring even wider. “That’s a pretty smart mouth for a pretty dumb broad. Don’t you even know who I -AM-?!” Galileo exclaimed, his wings shaking slightly in his fury as his hand twitched, eager to shove into the side of his jacket and pull out one of his pistols.

Galileo waited for to her reply, for her to recognize just who he was and to beg for his forgiveness and scramble to leave...but instead, she shifted her pallet and grabbed a painter’s knife, gathering some paint on it to put on some shadows and highlights as the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving the moon to light the pair.

The starry haired toonette huffed and looked to him with annoyance, blowing a strand of her ethereal hair out of her face. “A very loud, very rude man who is ruining a perfectly good view?” She replied sharply and Galileo was, for lack of a better word, stunned by her sheer audacity.

His jaw dropped for a moment before he snapped it shut with a click, his anger finally shoving past the restraints he had on it with that final quip. His hand reached into his jacket, pulling one of his pistols, the hammer cocking back as he lunged. One hand grasped her shoulder with a bruising tight hold as the other pressed his pistol tight to the base of her neck. “No. I’m the man whose evenin’ you ruined and who’ll be the last one to see your pretty face before I cover that canvas with the inside of your skull.” Galileo all but snarled.

The woman had taken a sharp inhale and froze under his hand, a malicious grin from him as he had finally managed to garner a proper reaction from this intrusive woman. What he didn’t expect though, was what came next.

Instead of the usual tears, begging and pleading for her life, she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin to stare at the rapidly fading twilight. She wore a brave face, even though he could feel the quiver of her shoulder, read the tremble of her bottom lip before she tightened her jaw, those violet eyes steeling as she seemed to wait. She wasn’t going to beg, she wasn’t going to prostrate herself before him in a desperate attempt to save her own life...no...she stood before him unwilling to give a single step to someone like him and that to him, was...well..rather intriguing he had to admit. He had given this treatment to full grown men twice his size and all they could do was blubber and beg and piss him off.

But not her.

This elegant, delicate woman stood her ground before him and that was perhaps enough to save her life. His wings shifted as they stood there in a deadlock, the wind whistling through the valley and ruffling his feathers and coat lightly. It seemed like an eternity before the sound of the hammer being released echoed through the air, along with a small breath from the woman. “Heh. You’ve got moxie...I’ll give ya that.” Galileo huffed as he pulled back, uncaring as she winced and rubbed her shoulder from where he had left a bruise from his grip.

She cut her eyes back to him with a huff. “I’m not going to apologize for being somewhere that I have every right to be in...not to you...not to anyone.” She replied lightly and Galileo almost laughed. Even when he had spared her life, instead of groveling at his feet in gratitude, she quickly made sure that he knew that she saw herself in the right.

Tch, dames. Who could understand ‘em?

He huffed as he tucked his gun away. “Hmf, you should be thankful I decided that I needed t’save this bullet for someone more important.” Galileo give her a sour look then before he turned away, glancing up at the sky as the night finally settled in and laid its stars out for all to see. This was a bust, he might as well go home and train for a while to blow off some steam.

“Don’t come here again.” He said, a simple warning before he smirked and flared his wings, giving the hardest downflap he could as he took off, relishing in the clattering of the painting and easel as well as the stream of angry words that chased him into the sky...along with a jar of paint thinner.

A slight glance back and he saw her there, on her feet, her pretty face twisted in her fury as she glared after him. Ahh….sweet revenge. Galileo couldn’t help but feel a bit smug as he began to wing his way towards home, pondering on how to get rid of this last bit of pent up aggression.

He hoped Damien was ready for an ass kicking, because he was getting one whether he liked it or not.

#My Writings #The Funny Papers: Toon Fics

4 notes · View notes

go-diane-winchester · 5 years

Text

Why is Misha the measure of morality for SPN fans?

Doll face sent me this. It seems infantile to disassociate yourself from people, just because they cant stand your favorite actor, even though, they might be nice people. How is Misha the measure of morality for his fan base? Why is it that even if you are an absolutely good human being, you must be shunned if you don't like Misha? Not being a Misha fan, nullifies all the good traits that you may possess. I have theorized that Misha's fanbase of hellerminions are actually like cult devotees. I did a post of Misha's character. The man exudes a type of charisma that attracts only certain weak personality types. He doesn't attract the attention of most sensible fans. Just the weak few. And, by weak, I mean socially and intellectually weak. I dealt with cultee characteristics in another post and how these characteristics correspond with hellerminions and their blind devotion. He and his entire fan base, behave like a well-oiled machine whose soul purpose seems to be to boost his status.

If the fan base is a cult, what type of cult is it?

It would be a cult of personality. This type of cult is rooted in a belief that reflects the charismatic personality and interests and proclivities of the revered leader. The whole point of Misha's cult is Misha himself. He is the glue that adheres them to each other. Cults of personality tend to revolve around a particular theme or interest. For the hellerminion cult, Gishwhes, Random Acts and Destiel come to mind. Gish is done, like a ritual every year, and destiel is used to fly the flag of the moral high ground. Shipping it, makes you a good human being. Have you noticed how non-shipper minions are still destiel positive. They almost never fight each other over shipping or even tinhatting. As long as something keeps Misha relevant, they are fine with it.

How does the hellerminion cult work?

It works like any other cult. It has a four tier power structure.

Misha the leader:

Misha has, over the past ten years, established an emotional bond with his fan base, based on how sympathetic he can make them feel toward him and how much respect he can generate from them, for being an ''out-of-place weirdo'' who succeeded. This puts him in a position of authority, where he is ''knowledgeable'' because he ''lived the hard life of a have-not loser'' and therefore knows ''how it feels''. He can advise them on how to deal with the pain of ostracization. He can also advice them on how to ''never give up'' and ''hang in there'', because you will succeed if you just ''be confident in your uniqueness''.

Transcendent belief system:

This is the overarching ideology that governs the thoughts and actions of the cult. In the case of the hellerminion fan base, the ideology is ''Misha's success is our success, so we must always prioritize Misha''. So they

will vote for him to win an award using various dummy accounts,

attack anyone online who dares to say anything remotely critical of Misha,

threaten to kill Jensen if Jensen refuses what Misha advocates sexually,

threaten to kill people who are not fans of Misha,

demand equal status for him from CW,

demand that he gets more episodes and screen time,

System of control:

This is a the code of conduct by which the cult operates. They are rules and regulations that every one of the devotees follow and it has to do with how they are allowed to think. Have you ever noticed how the hellerminions react in the same way to a scene? They also tend to get offended for exactly the same reasons and lash out in exactly the same manner. The online attacks are always synchronized. They all misinterpret a scene in the same overreaching manner. Amongst non-Misha SPN fans, there are disagreements regarding actors and scenes. That is how a normal social group works. People will disagree on certain issues and points from time to time. But amongst the cultees there is no division in their thinking. They are almost robotic is their homogeneous reactions to any external stimuli. If the stimuli is Misha related, they all react. If the stimuli is ship related, the hellers will react but the minions remain silent. They don't fight the hellers for shipping.

System of influence:

How come all of the hellerminions know how to react? This is because there is a hierarchy in place that influences the thoughts, opinions and understandings of the cult members. Misha, the apex of this pyramid, announces all the big rules and regulations by himself. This may be with regards to shipping, Gish, YANA and Random Acts. For smaller things there are journalists and influencers who disseminate information. These are people like Emily Cleghorn [Twitter], Sarah Burnhope [UK], Natalie Fisher [Hypable] and Melanie Adeline [Instagram]. Misha's cult relies on these people. These people have become very influential, so much so that the other cultees look up to them. My jaw dropped when I read this:

Reading this, you would think she is one of the stars on the panel, but no. She is a fan. Because she knows Misha Collins personally, she is now of great importance. Everyone Misha touches ''turns to gold''. He has the Midas touch. Look at the side panel of enthusiastic responses. Her fans are ecstatic.

From Bob Singer to the hellerminions, everyone behaves very oddly when it comes to Misha. Things that could get Jensen and Jared in trouble, Misha is allowed to get away with. Misha has no reason to be on the show, but despite being an unusable actor, he is given a chance to stay on board and collect a pay cheque. This is because Castiel is the mechanism that powers Gish, Random Acts, YANA and any other endeavor Misha may have. He irritates writers and NASA for his Gish stunts. He makes claims about Jensen's character and speaks with regards to Jensen's wife is a sexually inappropriate manner and still manages to keep his fans. The only thing that can explain this, is the cult hierarchy, with its influencers in place, working its magic to keep hellerminions on Misha's side.

A summary [added at the request of a reader for long posts]:

Misha is a measure of a morality for hellerminions.

Misha is like a cult leader and his fan base are like devotees.

His cult could be categorized as a cult of personality.

The cult's purpose is to keep Misha relevant and important.

Misha has a network of journalists and influencers who help him to keep the rest of the devotees in check.

Citation:

http://cultresearch.org/cults-today-new-social-psychological-perspective/

Excuse any typos. Thank you.

25 notes · View notes

the-house-of-the-nine · 5 years

Note

Dream: Three wishes they have. For Laz!

[I received three of these, so I will be writing this as a scene, characters who know Lazarius. . .they will understand the references. If your muse has not met him yet; shame on you, what have you been doing? Get on over here and RP! :D, no seriously, if you have only ever met ‘Nestor Brightsun’ his alias, well the end will make sense. Enjoy! And seriously come say hello! EVERYONE! Stop being shy!]

The dark chambers of the illustrious Inquisitor was often times a place for quite contemplation and planning. A place where he would brood and scheme and toil over the various dealings and problems the order faced. But tonight would be different. Tonight the candles were lit and the fire hearth was a blaze with a brilliant glow. There were no windows in the Bastille, so the best they could do was a brilliant bit of magical illusion provided by the Magus. A window to the outside where a window would have been showed the exterior of his former estate in Tirisfal.

“Ser, a curious message has arrived for you.” Kross stated calmly as he entered from a veil of white vapor manifesting from the cracks in the saronite stone.

It was a folded piece of velvet like parchment, penned in the most beautiful of hand writing, it read . . . “Dream, had you three wishes. . tell them to me, and Dream”

Lazarius peered upward toward the steward and furrowed his brow. A canted gaze while the sterling sheathes of his ear covers jingled softly against the various hoops across the lobe.

“Curious indeed.” crooned the dark eyed man. “And the author of such a bold and mysterious note?”

Kross stood there for a moment as his white reverent orbs cast toward his charge.

“It was left on the doorstep of the antiquities boutique just last night. It could very well have been from anyone. . .” he responded in a calm tone.

“Mmm.” Lazarius hummed, nodding his head and smirking. “I suppose Nestor will be responding to this one then?”

The dark venomous orbs would pan back to the letter. He was of course referring to the fact that most people who had met him in the human capital would know him as ‘Nestor Brightsun’, the alias he took when he was there and running the antique shop.

“Three wishes. . .goodness that certainly seems like an abundance. . .”

There was a slight pause, a thought perhaps as he began to ponder what it was that he could actually want. Material possessions were useless. He took what he wanted, and if he did not already have it, he took it anyway. His wealth and power were already his, and his prowess with magic was something he hardly needed a wish to improve.

“My mother. . .” he said softly. “Avarina Kash’ebahl, I would like to speak to her. Just one last time. I never knew here as my sisters and brother did. From what Pyravari and Siida had told me, she was radiant. Her presence like no other. A goddess among commoners. And yet a tender and loving creature that adored her family, and cared for them through all my fathers nefarious deeds.”

He nodded as Kross continued to play stenographer to his dictating Lord.

“My brother. . .” his venomous inky pools cast over toward the steward. “He is alive Kross. I was able to find Pyravari; raised and wandering as a knight controlled by Arthas. . . We were able to pinpoint Siida, free her from that mental prison . . . I know somewhere Valla is alive. Perhaps after learning we’d all perished he’d given up. Taken a new alias and moved to a far off place to live alone. Vari said he was in line to become a Ranger, perhaps even a general. He was a brilliant archer and huntsman, he must have taken to the wilderness. . . Gods I would like to show him we are whole again. Bring him into the fold. . .I could use a talented tracker. . .and one that was my brother. . .”

He smirked and nodded after that.

“One final wish Ser.” Kross added as it looked like Lazarius had all but completed his thoughts.

“To look Raelyndia in the eye. . .and tell her that I have surpassed her. Prove that her entire life's work still stands, and that I have improved it, I have perfected it. . . and I have become something more powerful than she could have ever imagined.” Lazarius slowly reached for a text on hieroglyphic Titan markings, begging to be left alone and starting to act busy.

“Ser you realize these responses are more attuned to your persona. . .” Kross added as he finished writing.

“Right. . .well then, just put More Money, More Antiques, and More Wine.” the narrowed eyes of the master peered downward as he waved him off. “Who really cares to know about a simple antique dealer really?”

“Very good Ser. . .” the old gilnean said in a calm tone. He would do no such thing. It was not good for him to deny the Master his truth. Lazarius spoke from the heart, despite his mastery of deceit. This would be returned to the author with the answers in tact, and of course, ‘Nestor’s’ money,pretties,and drink at the end.

A very special and love filled thank you to @madame-miersae @eve-daniels & @whatadarkbitch for all being curious what Lazarius’ wishes would be. Or. . .Nestors HAHA. So much love to all of you, seriously. I LOVE getting ASKs. And you’re all amazing people!

3 notes · View notes

kazytka · 5 years

Text

Affection in Affliction . Selapiel/No name

No name pointed a finger at the house upon a hill. Two stories tall not counting the attic. Brittle aged brick covered by nearly tree thick branches of ivy . Like snakes they warped around wooden ornaments, swallowed windows. And throttled the chimney . And jet there was a biter sweet to it all, as you came from the mist you cud hear the green wall sing whit the sound of thousand of bird voices. Crickets hummed and an occasional orange butterfly flirted thru the air. -This place seams...nice- Selapiel remarked looking a round, he walked hand in hand whit no names rigid un amused figure. And just as he was a bout to take a step forward and on to the house steps, a streak of ivory white flew past his face and splatted on to the ground whit a fleshy thud and a crack of bone. Warped in linens there lied a warp body of a new borne. -Indeed it is. Remarked no name politely. -what in fathers name is this?! Poor thing! -He bend down ans swiped the limp human conglomeration into their arms , read tears brimming, lips quivering reedy to give last rights. - It was to young to deserve this .- He remarked, and whit that as if on command the flesh warped and twisted in his hands like a particularity big maggot, joints and bones snapping together, until a healthy infant gazed up at there hairy faces whit a gleeful miaul, outstretching its hands. -its a millrace! - Selapiel moaned hugging the child that hugged back in an instant, seemingly unfazed by it’s previous demise. No name coked his dear like head to the side observing it keenly.-its a lovely package but I wouldn't call the content a miracle. -that's just the dipper smell. Children are the most innocent of all creatures. -the baby giggled at the compliment and subsequent poking of its fat belly. Then a voice wafted thru the air ‘my baby, my baby, oh where are you my baby!’ in a melodious voice. It came from the second floor, from within the only visible window in this whole house, open and gaping whit darkness. -is..is that the mom? - the baby reached its hands to the window, and after a moment it gave clear singes it wishes to be put down. -Seams to be. Put the beast down, perhaps it will decide where to go.- Reluctantly they did and the child that should all but flop on its chubby belly to young to even comprehend crawling on all fours. Took to a hardy crawl bypassing rocks, climbing up the initial steeps to the house and waddling inside, the white shroud stained whit blood trailing behind him. -This is not safe. I’m going to follow him.

-I was bout to suggest you do -no name nodded his head politely taking out a pipe and some wed from his coat pocket. -ill wait here.

-how so?

- well unless you can convince the lady of the house to let me in, rules be rules. - doesn't sound that hard. They steeped on to the .threshold

-Im positive shes a responsible individual trapped in a tragic loop of events, ill talk her down and send them both in to fathers waiting arms...so don’t get to comfortable whit that smelly thing - they pointed out as no name took a comfy seat at an overgrown bench near the wall. -ill take it in to consideration, love - the deer mouthed whit a glint of Irish accent. Selapiels tail swished the air as they rolled there ayes. The house must haw been quite well of in the day. As faded rotten paintings in peeling gold frames decorated the walls.Silver candelabra bloomed like tees whit crowns of silky cobwebs. And faded flowers whit heads hung low in shame filled every precious porcelain vase in sight. The ground floor held no singes of life. Even do Selapiel took their time to asses the surrounding the baby made it merely half way up the stairs, fallowing a well worn patch on the dirty rug. The song sounded again’ oh where is my baby, where is my baby, baby my dearest little angel where are you?’ whit a soft smile Selapiel stepped forward, scoped the child in its arms and proceeded up the stairs and to where the song led him. Tearing his way thru cobwebs and dust they found themselves next to a room whit a door cracked open. Inside sat a woman in a Victorian dress, fluffy and white like a weeding gown, cheeks unnaturally pink, contrasting whit her thin long face and brownish blond hair. this was the only place not doted by dust nor wear and tear in the house. Every inch or secession art was glimmering and dripping whit lace, silk and gold. Soft pinks and cream whites decorated the room. One would think this is as close as mortals would get to simulating clouds and heaven . The woman danced round the room looking under covers, and behind stacks of toys piled up in the corners singing for her baby to come out. Oblivious to her new guest. Selapiel sighed and banded down to allow the infant to just crawl out of its grasp and towards the woman.The moment it got a few steeps away his mother seamed to spot it. There was a glimmer of something in her ayes , like a smile in a predators gaze when they spot a bunny leaving the brush for an open field. Snatching the infant up they laughed and coooed dancing whit it across the room, making sweeping gestures and high leaps. The baby wobbled in her grasp depressingly throwing its small head back. A few times even the woman knocked it in to a decorative poster of her bead. Selapiels fur bristle at the sight, but she was happy so perhaps...she was just inept? Needed to calm down , that's all. - my child..pleas ...-they started ‘oh my baby, oh my baby, your here, my baby boy, my angel ‘ The woman proceeded to dance. ‘my we little cherub, are you prepared to fly?’ she sung to the baby dancing merrily and whit out a care, and as she sung the last tune she flung the child whit full speed and clear intent out the open window. ‘Fly!’ she chanted as the body initially rose up it quickly fell . And so did the woman's face witch turned to horror. And whit a cry of despair and a hand to her brow, she fell on to the soft plush carpet and began to wail. - Fairies stole my baby boy! My poor baby boy, somebody bring me back my baby boy!’ There were dark shadows looming over her as she vailled. Selapiel ran to the window and looked outside. No name was smoking his pipe and a bloody pulp on the pavement beloved close to him was already twisting and forming a new and right before his ayes he watch the infant form and start to crawl back up following its mothers voice.

-Why would you do that?!

-Fairies stole my child, it wasn't me...oh where is my baby?!

-Why would you say that!? -The woman gazed at the shadows. -I know my baby, my little angel. I birth and angel… -She looked at Selapiel for a brief second and that predatory gleam was back- So shouldn't it fly?

-How many angel did you haw? -They asked horrified.

-Enough to fill a choir. -she answered spreading her arms whit pride , before standing up and singing ‘where is my baby, where is my baby, baby my dearies little angel where are you?’ Selapiel tough this is madness, and perhaps he wasn't that far off. They turned back and ran down the stairs garbing the crawling infant on the way, wails and cries by dame it was not going back. As they sat on a bend outside whit the fussing red yelling infant in there lap they snatched the pipe from the black paws of no name and took a hardy intake. -father up above you better haw a good reason to show me this... No name leaned forward and twisted his head to look at the former angel

- whether a reason is good or not is a point of debate.

- I honestly think your trying to torture me at this point, gallivanting me far and near across this awful world just so I can talk whit ghosts and mourning spirits all day long. You surround me in misery I cant do thinning a bout.- They his teetering on a line of a sob you haw me smile and lay to rests there worries so they can move on but it never changes the tragedy...there tragedy, my tragedy. No mater what I do this child in my arms is and will be as cold as a lump of soil on a rainy day. Why !?

- Yes you made that complaint to me before. - No name nodes his head

-...says a bunch a bout you and even more a bout me.

-True, but this isn't a simple task like dealing whit somebody that had to maul over there grieves mistakes for a few centuries. She is not a ghost. -Then what? A manifestation of madness?

-Nothing quite so crude, if she was an elemental showing her to you would haw no merit beyond watching a baboon throw his own excrement's , personally I can think of more pleasant things to do than that. No, where you are now is the Mind of a currently living woman, going mad.

-...Wait what?

-You heard me, this small stint you see here..this is a manifestation of an ailing mind fixated on infanticide. Fascinating no? -Selapiel just stared at them. No name grumbled and caught, expecting a more appreciative stance to what he considered a quiet thoughtful gift.-Point being, you wanted agency and a chance to change bad faith. Consider this a token of my affections, in lieu of a rose a mind of madness you can do as you pleas whit. Perhaps what you do whit this gift will tell you all you need to know bout what you were and are. At this point its all I cant think to give...that isn't redundant that is. -He answers taking his pipe back from Selapiel and placing it in its mouth whit reverence. Sele just stared at him, then on the baby and the green facade of the house. -What of this house? Are other spirits attached to it?-I would think so...other spirits other minds, just like elements affect a home , people and events effect us botch on the outside levels and inside. If you chose to help, you will need to contend whit tows forces. And while nature is mostly uninterested in the state of a home...mortals more often than not are, especially when there is profit to be made.

-So somebody wants her that way. Anything else you can tell me?

-And spoil my gift? I think not. Talk to the woman. Jog that derelict brain of hers out of that place she decided to sequester herself in. Take pleasure in unraveling the human mind and roads of free will in this , the most intimed of ways. Feel it, crack it open like an egg and indulge in it.

-You make it sound unseemly.

-Nobody goes mad from innocents my dear. But enough talk...as is, its my gift to give, and your choice what to do whit it. -Before he cud finish a screaming infant was placed tenderly in his care.- If I can prevent tragedy from happening than by god grace I will try. But I wont stand for this conversation to be interrupted by the constant throwing of an infant . I am nipping this decision of hers in the bud.- They announced, voice soft, silent but firm. Odd and unsuitable of a gift as this was it made them feel light inside. No name had offer them a wavered prayer and for a brief moment it was easy to forget the claws, the slithering tail and horns. They had a calling to attend to, and it came whit a bit of selfish glee they accepted to be an angel for a mad woman. Berger’s cannot be choosers, even when there gifted whit mockery. And not even for a moment did it cross there mind they might be crossing the grand plan in any way.

#Fallen Selapiel #valentines #dark romance

6 notes · View notes

mingyubias · 6 years

Text

& i know this is ?? like a month late?? idk but !! someone way back when asked me about my hevie/descendants hcs/thoughts so i’ve decided to make a lil list that i’ll most likely add on to as time goes by and i get more info

first of all, i like to completely disregard the sugar coating that disney put on the entire series. for example, their lives on isle would’ve been grittier and much more cruel than what was depicted in the movies ( and somewhat the books ). i personally see all of their parents as emotionally and mentally Abusive ( bc they definitely are?? and melissa’s account of it def made more sense than .. disney’s igvfdn ).

also i like to imagine them? older? because i just cant personally relate to teens anymore so i see them as like 19 in my mind when im reading fics and the like ( especially since the ones ive read have hevie as sexually active ).

i really and truly dislike mal based both on her actions in the first novel and how she behaved in the films ( a lot of people haven’t read the books, but to sum it up, she spent 3/4 of the first novel tormenting evie first in a petty way and then in two (2) seperate life-threatening ways ). this has left me feeling completely cold towards mal and unable to sympathize with her in her tantrum in d2.

now, though i feel this way about mal, i can completely understand why evie wouldnt. it is literally written that evie brought out the best in people ( “The princess possessed a darling giggle that was so entrancing, it brought a smile to haughty Lady Tremaine’s face [...] The ferocious tiger Shere Kahn was practically purring like a contented kitten. And for old time’s sake, Captain Hook bravely stuck his head between Tick Tock’s open jaws, if only so he could make her laugh and hear that lovely peal again. The princess, it would seem, could make even the most horrible villain smile.” ) even when evie ass KNEW mal was planning something and despised her, she STILL did her best to give her the benefit of the doubt i? ? ? ? ?? ??? ? ? a tru queen

i didn’t read rise of the isle of the lost so i’m not 110% sure how harry is characterized in the books, but uhh id die for him ..

and i also dont? think he and mal ever had a thing lol .. just bc thomas and dove are dating that doesnt mean they gotta add in an unnecessary plotpoint ( especially considering how it’s canon in both the books and the movies that mal’s never had a boyfriend before ben .. *eyeball emoji* ) so uhh miss me with that

and i know that hevie is? a crackship? so dont come to me with “hevie aint canon” like huney i know but theres also no canon evidence negating the possibility either

ok so on to the actual hevie hcs .. cos i think about them a lot vfjdnokm

she is 10/10 the one who showed him how to do the scary pirate eyeliner thing ok but in my mind it started out much cleaner so it was just yk liner but then after scrubbing at his eyes so much ( thanks, salty ocean air ) it just became easier to leave it messy

the blue bandana he wears under his hat ? evie’s. kinda like how knights used to wear the colors of their wives/betrothed w/e its like a subtle claim and him making a lowkey gesture and im Weak over it tbh

captain hook ? loves her .. not only because she clearly has Some clout on the isle, espcially since apparently her momma and maleficent are friends now ( ?? idk disney makin shit up ) so hes like ((:: well !! but on the other hand .. evie is just a generally good person and she makes harry happy and shes charming and beautiful and genuine?? ya i see him really vouching for her ( especially since i dont really consider captain hook a real? villain? ig? he just wanted revenge on the immortal brat who literally Sliced Off His Hand and Fed it to a Crocodile ??? ) so !! ya

evil queen def dont approve but uhh what she doesnt know wont hurt her ..

i dont see her getting along with uma like she does so much in a lot of the fics, though, mostly because i feel like uma would resent her at least a little for basically being the person mal replaced uma with, so .. also for snatching half of harry’s time ( cant have a first mate who’s more loyal to someone else than his captain ). i also don’t see harry and uma as a couple, mostly because i imagine she’s at least a few years younger than him .. like everyone else felt older than they were in the movies, but uma def gave off 17 y/o vibes to me ( so did carlos but hes a lil baby and i love him )

that said, she’d get along really well with gil tho cos shes so kind and understanding and i dont see her getting so easily annoyed with him like everyone else does. not to mention she was .. sorta? friends with his older brothers in the first book so vinjdkm. quasi sister for that boi

theres a lot less interference between the vks and the pirates than you’d think? mostly because they keep it a secret from drama queen mal ( cos in my mind, carlos and jay prolly know cos i uhh trust them with info like this ) though i feel like itd especially put a strain on her relationship with jay since he dont like harry and he was friends with mal first so ..

a loooot of quiet moments in his cabin on uma’s ship .. just enjoying each other’s company on his hammock, slowly rocking back and forth, her probably playing with his fingers cos damn

just as many arguments tho cos theyre both hot headed and their personalities clash like a motherfucker honestly like ?? a ton of banter and low-blow comments that end in heated silence until evie cracks and apologizes or harry slowly grins and they kiss and make up wow i love my kiddos

10/10 see him climbing a trellis like a better version of romeo like vbifbhcjndm wherefore art thou, harry hook? bgvfnj anyways ya i see it very vividly in my mind, especially when theyre first getting to know each other .. like they have whispered conversations on her crumbling balcony and in her mind shes like “why does he seem so familiar????” and hes like “wow who IS this girl” and its cute and silly and he teases her the whole time and she teases right back wow !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

deep ass conversations under the stars about what they’d be doing if they were free to go wherever they want .. him talking about sailing the seas as a captain of his own ship and making a name for himself and she realizes as time passes that princes? dont seem very important to her anymore ?? and the more he talks about how wide and vast the ocean is the more appealing it become for her and she begins wishing he’d take her with him sighs

her initiating their first kiss cos uhh pirate or not hes like .. shes a Princess theres no way theres anything between us .. right ?? but obviously she likes him smh silly boy and she rolls her eyes and is like “when are you gonna kiss me?” and he stares at her for a sec before grinning like the roguish pirate he is and doing just that & its surprisingly gentle and uhh reverent BYE

evie willingly kissing him even tho it smear her perfectly applied lipstick ((:: and as an add on to that, evie letting him turn her into a disheveled mess after a thorough makeout session, hair all tangled, lipstick smeared, clothes wrinkled ihbvfnjdm and she lk loves it cos he clearly thinks shes still drop dead gorgeous without all the theatrics her mom ingrained into her mind that she needed to be beautiful ((:: i live and breathe for the acceptance !! wow !!

the angst .. when she goes to auradon .. wow ...... im actually so hurt by it ???? and i def see harry feeling abandoned sighs rip in peace my happy kiddos say hi to pain and suffering (:

doug ? is not a love interest in my mind .. sorry kid .. ur a good friend tho <3 and evie is in auradon watching mal maybe get her happily ever after and evie’s lowkey bitter abt it but obiously doesnt show it cos uhh shes here to love and support her ugli friend !!

harry being a Broody Mess and it making him seem more malicious and vile than before .. easier to enrage, quicker to react .. yk, harry in the movie !

but at the same time !! hes juggling uma’s i-told-you-so’s and trying to find a way to prove himself to his father and wishing evie hadn’t ever left and it being .. no fun at all for him esp with gil muttering about how he wishes evie were around and making the whole situation Worse smh

at the confrontation ohh god !! not the big one with everyone and the wand but before when they took ben ??? damn his eyes RAKED up and down her trying to assess if she was happier without him or if she felt even a little bit of what he did and getting angry when she gets angry over him taking ben i ??!!

evie sneaking away to confront harry personally over it and them getting into a shouting match and leaving things unresolved and WORSE than they’d been before ughhhhh

then ........ few months later boi gets an invite to come to auradon ... color him Surprised over that .. he almost refuses but he thinks of the ship he’s always wanted and quickly packs up his cabin like a second later

evie mentally considering taking harry off the list initially but then remembers that its his only gd chance to get away from the damn isle and out on the sea like he always dreamed & knowing she cant take that chance away from him just cos shes scared to see him again

that got away from me and felt more like fanfic plotting ... but uhh harry being the one who taught her to swordfight cos lbr who else couldve ? jay didnt carry one around until auradon and as far as i know evie didn’t have any sort of fencing lessons ( especially since it was a big deal for lonnie to have been on the team ). so !!

he also taught her a handful of other self-defense maneuvers beyond running and potions that never worked correctly on the isle cos uhh its a shady ass place and hes Worried about her

also he 10/10 calls her princess anyone who disagrees is free to do so but theyre wrong

she repairs his coat All The Time cos boy is always in need of patching up smh BUT she sewed her lil heart with a crown on the inside of his coat right next to where it lays over his heart cos uhh she loves him pce

him bringing her pretty seashells and trinkets he got from the salvage ships .. things like faded gold earrings and necklaces when one time he shows up with this tiny little shard of blue seaglass thats worn into the shape of a heart and she immediately makes it a charm for a bracelet & treasure it above all the other things she has lol !

them being 200% supportive of each other in general and loving one another despite the odds against them??? harry literally willing to risk everything for her ?? her honestly getting tired of hiding him and pretending she doesnt like him and one day just blurting it out to mal and bein like “if you dont like it then that’s just too bad for you” and walking out head held high but deep down freaking the FUCK out bihfnjde and harry being So Proud of her and willing to legitimately fight mal if she gives her shit over it bgvihfnj wow i just .. i just love them so much ..

#hevie #harry x evie #evie x harry #eviarry #???#idk im still working on it #long post #read more cos uhh its .. a lot

31 notes · View notes

definitelynotaminion · 7 years

Text

Story starter meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 15 stories. See if there are any patterns. Then tag 10 of your favourite authors!

I was tagged by @blackkatmagic

Uhhh okay you guys I’m going to use some WIPs too because. Otherwise I won’t have enough stories I actually /like/.

1. (untitled, current WIP, Set in the “I can’t believe you dropped incubus!Obito in a magic floating orgy house, Tim” universe)

Madara lives in a house of monsters, mages and demons. Most of the time he doesn’t mind.

2. Made of breath and skin (also a WIP, for the Secret Ship twin fic Race with @blackkatmagic)

There are certain things that make a man fear for his life. Hurricanes, deep space, the depths of the sea, the concept of not existing, a desperate man with a sharp knife--

Senju Tobirama, making an interested noise from across the breakfast table, just after you’ve swept into the kitchen and grabbed the first cup of coffee you saw, even if it was in your older brother’s hand at the time.

Ignoring Madara’s noise of betrayal, Izuna rounds on Tobirama with wide eyes, empty mug clutched tight in his hand.

3. So softly it starts

Belle makes a deal with a devil.

She had summoned him, as politely as possible-- an invitation, rather than a demand, and hadn’t that been fun to cobble together out of illicit dark magic spell books-- and he had appeared, more curious than angry.

4. what it’s like to be alive

It isn’t the first time. It isn’t even the thirty-first time, in the month that followed the final battle. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom at the edges of the river, the wind is blowing sweet, and the field where Sasuke grows his fucks is barren, barren, barren because--

Naruto, nosing into his neck like a dying man, inhaling the scent of him, crowding him into the wall of their kitchen without regard for propriety or personal space.

5. everything my spirit longs to have fulfilled

Sakura’s eyes flew open in shock, jaw dropping, lips forming a little ‘o’ in surprise.

“Oh,” She said, wondrous, riding it out.

Tenten laughed, bold and breathless, head thrown back and brazen in her pleasure. Her hands tightened on Sakura’s hips as she thrust up, and up, meeting every downward cant.

The hold was firm, and hot, and Sakura herself was practically boiling, chest heaving with exertion as the aftershocks danced down what felt like every nerve ending she had.

6. We like things related to our survival

Naruto and Kurama are two spirits in one body, and if one of them has inhabited the flesh longer it’s not by much . Honestly, the skin-prison spent months gestating with Kurama curled protectively around it and Naruto’s spirit only entered it towards the end, anyway.

For a brief, screaming half-hour, the soul that is Naruto wore his body alone, cold-wrong-lonely- wrong .

Then Kurama was nestled safe right next to his heart again, their essences mingling but remaining disjoint, autonomous.

7. A thrill of joy prophetic

Touka can pinpoint the exact moment her world shatters.

It just... happens. Without warning, without word, as she’s fuming at her stupid, green clan head for mourning an enemy and, more to the point, blaming her favorite cousin for defending his life.

She’s not even aware of it, is the thing. Senju fall like leaves in this war, but by some miracle none of Touka’s precious people have died by her side. Her parents, of course, when she was too young to remember, and besides that countless aunts and uncles and cousins and kin, but--

None of hers since she was old enough to fight beside them, old enough to let her chakra cloak her in anger and take outlet for her rage at the tides of their unstoppable foes on the battlefield.

She can pinpoint the exact moment her entire world shatters, and it is a star winking out instead of going supernova.

8. The Ecological Fallacy

After much screaming, confusion, a fair bit of yelling and several objects being thrown, Belle sat red-faced on her sofa.

She fixed tea with sure motions and she at least would traverse this with proper decorum and the dignity behooving a wizard of her station.

Across from her, wrapped with an air of confusion and amusement in the couch’s afghan and nothing else, the long-haired otherbeing she’d somehow summoned raised an eyebrow.

9. Silver tigers in the moonlight, running

Madara’s breath fans out, hot and visible. He breathes in frigid air and pushes it slowly out of his nose. Like smoke, it curls up. Like he’s a dragon, almost; irritable and with fire curled ready in his gut. Or his lungs?

He certainly inhales enough smoke.

He is, Tobirama notes, mythical enough to qualify. Magical enough. In his head, he tries for scathing or dry and fails. Even the thought’s tone shifts to faintly reverent.

He can never, ever, compliment Madara aloud. Tobirama chews his lip, chapped from the cold, and leans his head back with a sigh. It touches metal cold enough to feel through his hair. It spills out white against the grey door of the crappy car Touka had pawned off on him, all razor smiles and sharp insistence.

10. These Hues Yet Hard to Hold

Kurama looks ridiculous with a small patch of bright orange fur. It clashes with his crimson pelt instead of blending in, stands out proudly, draws the eye. His own fist dyed Naruto’s red the day they became allies in full.

Sasuke’s lips are obnoxiously, permanently, vividly orange. The color is so opaque that no flesh is visible beneath it.

11. An Evening Well-Spent

“I can’t imagine being forced to stay at Private Drive,” Harry offered, looking at the heavy furnishings and high, cobwebbed ceilings in a new light.

Sirius looked a heartbeat away from doing some follow up questions on that little nugget. Harry intervened quickly.

His wand flicked to his hand with a thought and he grinned, ruby glinting from the ring on his finger. After all, it was just the two of them.

“I,” He declared, twirling the wand as soon as he was sure he had his godfather’s full attention, “am a legal adult. You know what legal adults can do?”

Sirius’ eyes followed the motion curiously.

“Magic?”

“ Magic .”

12. Battle Hymn of Trees

In Team 7’s—the last Team 7’s, the best Team 7’s, her Team 7’s—generation, they figure it out.

13. Heir of Fire

For as long as he can remember, Harry Potter has dreamed.

Not the same dream, over and over again, but the same lifetimes. He grows up and a blonde haired child grows parallel to him, always running, always smiling.

The city-- village-- is always the same. It’s beautiful and breathtaking. Trees surround it and the buildings aren’t quite tall enough to match. It’s full of familiar faces, still as small as he is, but he sees them and thinks: precious.

14. Trial by Fire

Harry Potter planned to spend the hour’s drive back to Little Whinging trying not to think of anything. His relatives had fallen into their usual routine of pretending he didn’t exist. They ignored him and conversed amongst themselves as though the trip to London had nothing to do with him.

15. eudipleural

The Elric brothers never needed the drift.

It’s a fact, for all that it’s consistently looked over in light of their ever growing and ever more incredible list of achievements.

One alchemist alone cannot pilot a Jaeger.

Two alchemists need to transmute together; they need the drift for that. They need the drift for that.

Fin! Wow, that’s a lot of fics. I’m kind of impressed with myself. Uh, I don’t really see a pattern. Anyone else? I usually start out describing scenery or situations and not dialogue.

I guess I kind of like describing a scene and then explaining it. Like, “Belle summons a demon” and then paragraphs on how/why. Fun, though!

I’m going to tag @fangirlandiknowit101, @lullabyknell, @thebibliosphere, @redhothollyberries if she hasn’t done it for Kat first, and any other of my writer friends who want to tap this!

#story starter meme #blackkatmagic #tim writes

3 notes · View notes

intlcoordination · 5 years

Text

LIMITED EDITION

Atin Bhutani – CEO In Corp Global Pte Ltd

Rare is always limited. Atin is the true Guy. He is Numero Uno but is not fixated on the numbers game. It is more important for him to successfully do the right thing all the time. Breaking free of traditions, type cast , brackets imposed by Society here is a pure soul who emerges as a shining example of exceptional, inspirational role model.

What takes people a lifetime to learn Atin has already in a short span grasped the discerning factor that role models or leaders fail when expectations are not met. When it really matters and they are not there they turn out to be mere ordinary individuals. “And I realised that you do your own thing and be your self made man as everyone looks after their interests in the end“

The succesful evolution of a character is not determined by the accolades, gold medals received or the numbers /high scores ranking in the professional world of which Atin has an impressive collection.

Although Atin is on the top its his finer and sensitive traits which wins him staunch friends, loyal customers and employees who leave and come back to work with him. His clients vouch that –“Atin does not give stress”

Atin Bhutani’s entrepreneurial spirit was born from his childhood experience. Atin’s father was expected to become a doctor. Bhutani’s father rebelled. Bhutani says,” My dad was supposed to become a doctor, in fact he got admitted into a college but did not pursue it because he wanted to become an entrepreneur.” Initially his father joined his grandfather in the family business.

As the saying goes in business partnerships you need to be on the same wavelength and the alliance didn’t last long as apart from the generation gap, Bhutani’s father wanted to carve his own niche.

Relocating to Surat with a few thousand Rs(INR) and his family to start a business of Automobile spare parts Bhutani vividly remembers his fathers struggles and hard work. They lived in a one-bedroom house and packing cases from the store became the sofa and bed. He says simply, “dad worked very, very hard”

His father shaped young Atin’s character leading with examples of qualities of leadership, generosity and making a difference in other peoples lives. While growing his own business his father undertook the responsibility of siblings of his own by bringing them in, settled them with businesses of their own

Both his parents were academically strong, his mother was a double MA plus a gold medalist and always told the kids that while their dad was doing what he was doing their primary focus was to excel in studies and the result was that Atin was a topper at school level, a Gold medalist in Mechanical Engineering, scoring 2220 out of 2400 in GRE getting into top 10 MBA universities in India or being one of the few directors in HSBC

Atin is the eldest of two brothers. Both his parents were the eldest on either side and Atin by default is the eldest in the family. His entire schooling of 15 years was in one school which was very strong in discipline “Martay thhe” (they used to beat) as he says in Hindi with refreshing candor…but that is fine. That’s how we grew up in my age”

This time both father and son shared the same dream that Atin should be a Pilot. Bhutani details his ascension from aspiring Pilot to a revered finance executive. Finishing school and without prior advice enrolled in flying school. During his Pilot training he discovered the lack of promising career opportunities in the field,

“Becoming a private pilot during the late 90s when there were no airlines in India. No private airlines, like Jet. So jobs that the pilots could get was VIP pilots. “This I didn’t know growing up and only once I entered that field realized why there were only 10 students and 4 instructors and 60,000 jobless pilots. So I knew I had to do something else also.”

Following in his fathers footsteps of being a self-made man - I was always quite independent, didnt want to become an instructor and I didntt want to live off my dad. He is a self made man and I would be a self made man as well”.- “Never really took a lot from my parents.” Although his dad could support him for overseas MBA program he chose to pursue it from the top Universities in India. Once you are in top 10 it hardly matters whether its one acronym or another.” Its not as if I look back at it and think every decision I took was right. If I could I would not do my engineering, I would do BBA then do my MBA because engineering didn’t help me so much. Other than building a bit of character, building to live independently and stuff I would have saved 1 year.”

From here he made a career changing choice that eventually landed him in HSBC and reaching a management level Director role.

During those years, he harks back to the outsize role his son held in his life. Bhutani notes he is vulnerable to quickly tear even at emotional junctions within a movie. Therefore, he suffered a great deal of pain during his son’s infancy and early childhood.

His son, who had a premature delivery, suffered from lactogen intolerance. This placed great limits on his early nutrition and diet, “First 3 years of his life he couldn’t have milk so for a child who couldn’t have milk he couldn’t also have mashed potato because his food pipe was so small. So the only thing he could have was soya milk and because soya milk has no taste we used to buy this flavored Godrej brand called sofit. Now popular but during those days old packaging you used to get in select few places in bangalore so all the mall walaas (hindi word for mall owners) had my number and used to say “Saab aa gaya aa jao” in Hindi(Sir its arrived you come over). So he grew up the first 2 and a half years even if cake used to touch his face he would develop blisters and he would struggle.” Bhutani recollects.

This adversity was overcome by character building and provided Bhutani with great pride and inspiration as he noted “Nowadays I look up to my son a lot. He has a phenomenal attitude.” He continues, “We feel he has grown up to be very respectful and very good child. There are times even when hes not wrong he will just keep quiet. And brilliant football player, good in studies so we’re very happy. Flip side is now he cant eat fruits because for the first 3 years he kept drinking fruit fruit. So I learnt a lot from him the spirit of perseverance against all odds. When he’s playing football he is the smallest in the team but competes the hardest. In aggressive play when someone tackles him he just gets up and keeps going.”

The struggle brought him and his wife Chetna even closer and her words of faith –“ if god takes something away he gives something else” saw him through. It was also her faith and importantly, sacrifices, that put the family on the path of Entrepreneurship eventually and he believes whatever little success they have had has come in on the back of that friendship, love and partnership. “From being sweepers to the sales people to owners, we did it all together during the formative years of the business. I also know it would not have been easy to let go of her own, very successful business in India and walk the path with me instead. So – as far as influence goes – she has been the one person who has been holding my hand through more than half of my life”.

Atin also has a young daughter who has practically grown up in Singapore. “She keeps me grounded and she is one who brought about so many positive changes in our life. Chetna calls her an ‘Angel’ because of this as well as because of her unbelievably selfless nature and the laughter she carries with her. While I missed a large part of her growing up, she is the one person in our household who is just happy to spend time with us, give us an honest opinion on everything under the sun and is probably the smartest one”

An Exceptional Mother. Solid Foundations.

“To be a mother of a son is one of the most important things you can do to change the world. Raise them to respect women, raise them to stand up for others, raise them to be kind.” Shannon L. Alder

Atin was blessed to have a remarkable mother. She instilled in her two sons attribute/virtues of respect, sensitivity and moral uprightness. Mindful that they didn’t have any sister she raised them with emphasis on how to respect women , people.and being independent. “She always used to tell me that there are no sisters so you have to be very careful especially when you are dealing with women. If people came as part of being good hosts the boys were taught to serve the guests . As it pertains to influencing his career moves, Bhutani claims his mother who he was closest to and from whom he inherited his mannerisms was the driving force behind his move to Singapore saying “She was very fiercely protective that you go. So, because she saw my dad and her brothers, she said no to getting into family business at every stage through education and early career and she pushed me to get out of India. And Punjabis have this thing that you are successful if you are outside India.” And even as he made the move within a few months of his arrival, Bhutani’s mother was diagnosed with cancer but did not allow her son to forego the hard work and persevered by fighting strong during her battle with the disease.

It was his brother whom Bhutani credits with those hard times, saying “He’s the nicest person. He’s the nicest person anybody can know. He took care of mother that period and he was always there and he never lost his temper he never lost any anything.” Atin and his brother share a very close bond, one that is not lost on Bhutani, “And we are very close to each other and that to me is not very common.”

As part of his time at the helm of InCorp Group of Companies, Atin is grateful of the friendship and trust shown by his co-founder towards him. Bhutani has learnt to value trust in those you invest in, “After being a CEO making his money and having invested the money in me since 2015 till today he has not questioned me. That kind of trust and I have learnt that, if I make that kind of money and if I were to invest in someone, I will back them. Even if you make 2-3 mistakes I don’t care.”

And he keeps the relationship very, very, formal at work but informal and as a friend. When he talks you learn a lot from him, you talk to him he thinks a lot, he talks about things that are going to happen few years down the line. Has the ability to take the people along despite not talking a lot. So he’s been a great influence in professional life.

Bhutani’s leadership style is greatly focused at providing the best environment for his staff to thrive in. He takes annual employee surveys with great diligence and places emphasis in providing as many requests that come his way even while being aware that as the leader he can’t please everybody all the time. Still, he takes great pride in trying to address most of the feedback points whether it is through providing one of the better f&b spaces in a corporate space, or working on technology upgrade, software, hardware sanctions all are taken in right earnest even though there will be 20 percent attrition.Whether it is people management or talent retention, mergers or acquisitions Atin when necessary is capable of drawing the line and taking a hard call.

“It's a rare person who wants to hear what he doesn't want to hear. “-Dick Cavett

But his single greatest leadership quality is winning over clients, especially the most demanding ones. A case in point is of an irate client who he turned round to a relationship based on mutual trust and respect that grew after the person took all the criticism to his door and he patiently addressed every single challenge laid at his door. Bhutani says he always excelled in pressure environments as he recounts an example from his time at HSBC, “In general I have realized that I do very well if there is some sort of adversity. In banking when there is some sort of event or transaction happening

“Men of routine or men who can do what they are told are not hard to find; but men who can think and plan and tell the routine men what to do are very rare.”- William Graham Sumner

This extends to people/colleague relationships. Its rare to see people letting go of insecurity/ego, jealousy and becoming friends in a professional working atmosphere. “When I was given a larger role in Singapore HSBC, I was a individual transactor, I did very well so corporate banking head decided to elevate me. Make me head of the team so guys who were part of the team ended up reporting to me. So I lost two of the best RMs that had quit within two months of my taking over. So that is when I sat down with the rest of my team, see it is what it is. A year down the line, I want to stand in front of all of you and still deliver results and that will be huge success and 1 out of those two came back and worked for me and is now one of the closest friends. So that challenge I am always ready to take on.”

Atin is down to earth, not materialistic. “So beyond a point in time money will just be a number. There is a certain bare minimum I want to get to. It is not to buy great shoes or great watches. For me if it means I can retire by the time I am 50-55 that’s what I want to make.”

Given Bhutani’s achievements and success to-date he is not emotionally attached to his role as boss and has a cool perspective in being aware that should a takeover lay in the future and given he fulfilled the 5-year plan set out during the launch in 2015, Bhutani would be very comfortable in taking time off should that be the direction any future ownership might consider. He is after all a family man who enjoys the simple pleasures of watching movies on his sofa and going out for meals with his family and a keenness to travel the world

Outside of all the humdrum of money matters his passion lies in sports apart from travel. During his college and HSBC time he used to play cricket, volleyball, badminton table tennis teams. “In general adventure, adrenaline, I have done bungee jumping, any type of adventure ride I will be there. So those are the things I would love to do.”

Interesting traits of Atin- While watching the Movie – “As good as it Gets” starring Jack Nicholson he discovered that the character and he shared a similar trait of not stepping on cracked tiles on pavements/roads etc.

Leaving unfinished work is unsettling for him as he suffers from Monday morning blues, since he is unable to sleep on Sunday nights easily.

What puts him off – “People belittling or blaming despite me trying to make genuine attempt towards outcome that is beneficial for them. So it feels waste of energy, efforts etc. And secondly lack of ownership especially among senior guys.”

#(Source: intlcoordination)

0 notes

texanredrose · 7 years

Text

Family Reunion

I've been stuck like chuck on everything else, so here's just shy of 9k words of weird High Fantasy ridiculousness to try and get out of a rut. Thanks to @dashingicecream for use of her Snow Cubs.

Mornings in the capitol city were a sight to behold: the merchants that crowded the square offering trinkets from every corner of the empire, colorful customers from even more exotic locales examining them, and the royal guard marching through the throng of people with their shining armor catching the rising sun. Although her hood was pulled far over her head to obscure her identity, she could still observe the familiar sights with a fond smile, making her way through the crowd with little fanfare. A travel worn brown cloak, patched leather vest, and dusty trousers didn't make for the most flattering appearance, but the practicality of her ensemble soothed any wounded pride over the looks she got from others, especially given the precious cargo latched onto her back and hidden by the cloak, much like the sword at her hip. Although she doubted anyone would harass her beyond the well meaning observer, she'd rather reach her destination undisturbed; she'd been gone far too long to excuse petty delays.

She pushed her way past a group of elves examining the bow collection of a Valen vendor, stepped around dwarfs weighing the merits of Menagerian metal work, and ducked past a few magicians demonstrating the superiority of Atlesian wants when compared against the Vacuon counterparts. All the while, faded memories of her youth- walking around this exact marketplace, but half as full and filled with exclusively humans and Atlesian merchants- sprang up, causing the small smile on her lips to tug a little wider. Under her sister's guiding hand, Atlas transformed from a cold, brutal nation of bitter invariability to a thriving, colorful country bursting with the flavor of every part of Remnant. Still cold and brutal, especially during the winters, but now filled with a warmth that couldn't be given by hearth or torch.

As she passed the center of the marketplace, her eyes caught on the fountain, water remaining within its bounds thanks to some magic spell or other. Years ago, it depicted a mounted knight using his lance to stab into a dragon's heart, a testament to the valor of humans and a reminder that, though they should be feared, the magically inclined creatures who inhabited the realm could still be killed by mortal men. Conveniently, the fact that the royal family which had ruled over the land for countless generations itself had magic thrumming through their veins- an ancient sort which required no word or wands, just an imposition of will- was left out every warning about magical beasts and the peoples of Remnant who whispered to stones to build their houses and asked trees for bark. Now, though, only the dragon remained, with its wings spread wide and head reared back to spew water instead of flames, a giant werecat stalking between its forelegs while a chimera sat beneath its tail, a myriad of smaller creatures dancing across the water's surface and children of all races seemed to be playing among the beasts. The commission was wonderfully done, the stone somehow shining like scales and rippling like fur as the water touched it, and it made her pace quicken towards the towering castle gates.

They were thrown open, as per usual at this time of day, but curiously absent was the long line of various citizens looking to air a grievance to the crown. At the same time, she didn't see anyone else concerned about the nonexistent gaggle of disgruntled people that seemed to clog the King's Way every other day, all the royal guards standing their post as if nothing was amiss. When she'd nearly reached the gates, she saw one she half remembered as being chatty, almost too much, so she called out to him.

"Is the Queen not taking audience today?"

He blinked, apparently surprised, and shook his head. "No, Traveler; Her Majesty will take audience tomorrow, though, and the taverns will give you a free night's board, courtesy of the Crown, for your inconvenience." His lips lifted in a small smile, gaze darting towards the entrance to the castle labyrinth. "Her Majesty decided to spend the day with family, you see."

"I've come at a good time, then," she replied, reaching up to push back her hood. Now that her blue eyes and white hair weren't hidden, recognition flashed in the guard's eyes before he dropped to one knee. It seemed that, despite the dirt and grime she'd accumulated from her journey, Princess Winter Schnee could still be recognized among her people, if she allowed it.

"Your Highness!" Every guard in the area, now alerted to her presence, immediately dropped to a knee, bowing their heads in reverence. "You must be, uh, weary from your travels- is there anything I can get you?"

"No, Ser Jaune. Just tell me where I can find my sister. Is she in the garden?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Excellent," she said, turning towards her new destination. "Carry on."

Dimly, she registered the clinking of their armor as they got to their feet while her own carried her through the archway, every guard she passed straightening their posture. Once, it might've irked her how lax they stood, the slight slouch in their backs registering as a lack of discipline, but recent years had... softened her, just a bit. Certainly, she'd discovered a well of compassion within herself that was previously frozen over and completely inaccessible until the warmth of her lover thawed it all away. So, rather than a curt reprimand, she merely gave them nods of acknowledgement as she passed, striding between tall hedges and working her way through the labyrinth to the garden's center. Having gone a full year without seeing the younger woman for the first time in her life- without being within the castle's walls, really- almost gave her reason to jog, but she was mindful of the cargo she carried shifting on her back, disturbed by the increase in her pace already.

A few steps away from the last turn, she heard her sister's voice. However, it was not how she'd hoped to hear it.

"Ah! My arm!"

"Weiss?" She took the last corner, fully prepared to draw the sword from her hip, but stopped with her hand on the hilt as she caught sight of the scene playing out before her.

There was her sister, the crowned Queen of Atlas, lying in the grass flat on her back, her left forearm raised in defense as a little grey werecat sank its tiny teeth into the leather bracer she wore, a high whine that would one day become a menacing growl eking out of the feline's mouth. Two more cubs relentlessly attacked the laces of her scuffed black boots, looking like mirrored opposites of one another with their bodies mostly black or white, and the other color cutting a jagged streak over the top of their head and tinting one ear. Yet another, this one white with a broad black stripe running from nose to tail over their belly and back, tried valiantly to wrestle with the young woman's right forearm, using all the strength in their little body to try and muscle the appendage to the ground. It was working, though slowly, even as Weiss' groans of 'agony' increased in volume.

"You wound me, you magnificent beast!" The assailed young woman cried, tossing her head to keep the pure white strands of her offset ponytail from being caught under any of the cubs. "Oh, what will I ever do? How can I ever break free?"

"Dear, you're selling it too hard." Winter followed the sound of the voice, not at all surprised to see the pitch black werecat lounging on the garden grass, ears canted towards the newcomer despite amber eyes never leaving the small white cub currently trapped between her paws. Once, years ago, the very sight of such a creature would send a spike of fear driving deep into her, but that era ended when the former King and Queen of Atlas were dethroned. Now, the werecat, almost pure muscle and easily twice the size of any man, brought comfort and reassurance. Many things would fall before she would dare let anyone harm her mate- or, Winter mentally amended, her cubs- so there was little worry about her sister's well being during her travels. "Also, we have company."

The Queen halted her exaggerated mauling long enough to throw a slight scowl towards the garden's entrance, ready to deal with the intrusion upon her day as swiftly as possible, but stopped the sharp words from escaping once she saw who it was, settling instead for an incredulous gasp. "Winter?"

The weary traveler smiled. "It's good to see you, too, Sister."

Weiss tried to get up but the cubs were reluctant to let their chew toy escape so quickly, sensing the change in their mother's demeanor but unsure what it meant. As a compromise, the elder sister crossed the grass, reaching up the release the clasp on her cloak and letting it fall behind her. Within the walls of her family's castle, she had nothing to fear, and it was a relief to be free of the light burden. Her approach caused the cubs to abandon their tasks, ears perking at the unfamiliar gait of a stranger before seeking shelter behind the Queen and peeking their heads out, eyes of blue and amber watching with great interest.

"I was beginning to think you wouldn't return," her sister said, sitting up and gently picking up the all grey cub, which was about the same size as an adult housecat, except with much bigger paws. The cub tried to turn away at first, the fur along their neck rising up as Weiss situated them in her lap, but slowly calmed down, giving their siblings courage to slowly come out from behind the Queen. "Were you able to find Yang? Is she alright? I would've expected her to be with you-"

"She's fine." Winter chuckled, kneeling down and offering a hand out with a limp wrist, waiting for the cubs to approach on their own. "She's enjoying herself right now; she'll join us soon, I'm sure."

"She's been grounded for quite a while, hasn't she?" Blake, apparently satisfied with her grooming of yet another cub, this one with snow white fur, and lumbered to her paws, the werecat's belly still heavy with milk for her cubs. Yet, she looked every bit the deadly predator Winter remembered from before she left, feline grace hardly impacted by the birth of her first litter. She made her way towards them, following the eager little cub racing to join their siblings. Even from a distance, Winter could see that the white one was the runt of the litter, the others several pounds heavier, but that didn't seem to deter them as they immediately clambered up the side of Weiss' thigh, much less afraid of the newcomer than the rest of the cubs. Or, perhaps, they just didn't have a reason to fear anyone bigger than them, seeing as everyone was bigger than them.

"Yes. It's been... an eventful year. For all of us, it seems." She hedged, watching as one of the two toned cubs made their way closer inch by inch. "But catching up on little details can wait. Introductions are in order, no?"

"Of course, of course. Where are my manners?" Weiss laughed, a clear and bright sound that only recently became known to the occupants of the castle. Last year, with the addition of the werecat's presence to the court, the Queen began to smile and laugh far more than her elder sister could ever recall, a welcomed respite from her taxing duties. It seemed her year spent away hadn't dampened the woman's spirits, though perhaps that was more a result of the cubs surrounding than a constant state of being. "Cubs, this is your aunt, Princess Winter, Steward of Atlas and my chief adviser." A sly smile appeared on her sister's lips. "But you can call her Aunt Winny."

A small frown touched her lips. "Don't ever call me that."

"Why not? It suits you." Blake offered, flopping down behind the Queen with a groan, tail curling just enough to indicate both her pleasant mood and her exhaustion. Luckily, Winter understood, even if she couldn't sympathize, and decided to let the teasing pass for the time being.

"And who do we have here?" Her smile stretched wide as the largest of the cubs finally left the Queen's lap to sniff curiously at the elder Schnee's hand, the rest of the littler following swiftly.

"This brave little explorer is Grace." Weiss touched a finger between the grey cub's ears, causing both to flick as blue eyes rolled up, trying to find the source of the contact. A little scratch of her nail seemed to placate the cub, enough for Winter to reach forward and run a finger down her niece's face, between the eyes and down to the nose. It seemed to work well enough with dragons, she figured the gesture might be something familiar to weres as well, and if the little flick of Grace's ears were any indication, she was correct. "And this adorable little troublemaker is Licht." The mostly black cub turned at the sound of his name, playfully avoiding his mother's touch but unable to predict the dual assault, though he seemed to lean into the elder Schnee's hand. His heterochromatic eyes focused on the tips of her fingers when she pulled away, swatting a little paw at her in retaliation for thwarting his game. "And this handsome little gentleman is Lumi." The cub's mirrored twin, with the black streak over his eyes- curiously enough, also heterochromatic with one blue and the other amber, though opposite which eye bore which color in comparison to Licht- stayed perfectly still, allowing himself to be pet patiently. The moment the introduction finished, though, he quickly set about 'stalking' the bit of string tying his aunt's boot. "And this energetic little heartbreaker is Noire." The black striped cub tilted her head, rolling onto her back the moment Winter reached forward, paws flailing in the air for a moment before allowing the touch, amber eyes shutting briefly. "And, finally, we have our sweet little angel, Harmony."

The pure white cub, apparently done waiting her turn, sprang forward and immediately clamped her jaws around Winter's finger, tiny fangs pressing into her skin and nearing the verge of discomfort. Winter raised a brow, amused by the cub's gnawing and the slow drooping of her ears and tail, but her attention slid to her sister at the gentle clearing of a throat. "Hmmm?"

"Play along." Weiss' expression pinched slightly, her tone low as she spoke behind her hand. "It helps build their confidence."

"Oh." Nodding, the elder of the duo paused to consider for a moment before putting her unoccupied hand to her forehead and cringing. "Oh, woe is me! The pain is almost too much to bear!"

Although Harmony seemed to appreciate her flair, ears perking up as she renewed her vigorous assault, Weiss immediately shot Blake a flat look. "And I was overselling it?"

"She's not my mate and she's not their mother; she's allowed to exaggerate," the werecat replied with a grin, crossing her paws and resting her chin atop them. "Besides, she's dug her own grave; now she'll have to top that each time their bites get stronger or they won't leave her alone."

Harmony, growing bored with gnawing on the offered digit, released her to go play with her siblings, all of whom seemed to be quite engrossed in a game of trying to catch Grace's tail. The little grey cub, however, had a clever mind, running towards her Mommy's hindquarters so Blake could take over being the bait, the cubs apparently deciding that catching the larger prey would be easier, especially since Grace could help them. Entertained as they were, Winter decided it was time to broach the bit of news she carried, though she hoped to transition to the topic gently.

"They're lovely. I'm sorry I missed their birth, and your wedding. It wasn't our intention, I assure you."

"Actually... about that." Weiss suddenly looked a good deal chagrined, shuffling so she could lean back against her lover, one hand absently finding its way into midnight black fur while the other remained on her lap, easily accessible if any of the little ones desired some attention. "We postponed the wedding. I really wanted you to be there for it... and then this happened, erm, unexpectedly." Winter's brows raised, genuinely surprised. "I suppose my aura's a bit more powerful than I thought."

"That's something the two of you have in common," Blake said, cracking one amber eye open and wiggling her nose. That was one of the things she could appreciate about the werecat's sense of tact: she always managed to find a means to convey her intent without using words. "But, I agreed with Weiss; it wouldn't feel right having the ceremony without you and Yang here with us. Getting pregnant was... a surprising side effect of waiting."

Unable to help it, the elder Schnee laughed, though she opted not to comment that perhaps they should've 'waited' on a few more things. It would be a tad hypocritical. "Too bad we exiled Mother and Father. I'm sure they'd have an absolute fit giving both of us lectures on the legitimacy of childbirth out of wedlock."

Immediately, Weiss rolled her eyes and huffed. "Ugh, don't think it hasn't crossed my mind, and the nobles- wait." Her sister stopped, furrowing her brows. "Both of us?"

"Yes." She turned her head, speaking softly. The whole while the cubs were being introduced, she could feel the nervously energy radiating from her precious cargo, but the lack of a volatile reaction assured her that everything would be fine. At the very least, none of the cubs were quite of the strength or size to pose a significant threat, should things start to go awry. "Zephyr? Come out, Sweetheart, and meet your aunts and cousins."

It took a moment, light scratching against her leather vest immediately preceding a stillness. When it stretched nearly to the point she thought something might be wrong, Zephyr gathered her courage and poked her head up and over Winter's shoulder, cool blue eyes darting between all the new faces. She see the nervous twitch in her whiskers and could feel the way her daughter pressed against her back, as if ready to duck down at any moment.

"I can't believe I owe Yang gold for this." The werecat shook her head with a fond smile. "Baby dragons are rather cute."

"Cute- Blake, she's absolutely precious," Weiss said, leaning forward and offering out her hand. "Are we certain she's related to Yang?"

Aside from clearly being a dragon, she could see where the joke might hold a kernel of legitimate curiosity. Pure white scales and a slim build seemed to place Zephyr at the opposite end of the spectrum from the towering, broad shouldered golden dragon, but the Queen of Atlas had the benefit of never seeing one of the little one's tantrums. In those moments, no one could possibly mistake her lineage, when cool blue eyes turned to a deep violet. Already, there was a font of dread welling up in her chest at what the 'terrible twos' would entail, especially for a child with both the Schnees' legendary stubbornness and Yang's temper, nevermind her draconic form, but something told her that no matter how terrible it got, she wouldn't want to be anywhere else. She raised a hand, allowing Zephyr to take refuge in a familiar touch, the small spikes along the top of her head lightly digging into the woman's palm.

"Is this why Yang ran off? To go lay an egg without telling anyone?" The younger woman stilled her hand, waiting for the little dragon adjust to her presence. Zephyr shifted higher on Winter's back, stretching out her neck to lightly bump her nose against the offered digit. She almost immediately retreated, once again hiding behind her mother's shoulder, but the reaction was an expected one. It had taken a full week for her to acclimate to Winter, partly because the little dragon had yet to encounter a creature other than Yang and partly because the woman spent the better part of that week lecturing her lover in a mostly civil tone. Mostly. "I never would've imagined any offspring of Yang's to be this timid. Or yours, for that matter."

"That overgrown lizard's always been the exception, not the rule," Blake said fondly, tilting her head when Lumi and Licht started climbing her shoulder, apparently keen on chewing on her ear. She couldn't make it too easy for them, though her attempts to avoid their nips required hardly any effort on her part, and she appropriately cringed and growled whenever caught. "Dragons are solitary creatures in their youth, too vulnerable without conscious access to their magic and afraid of the world. Until she accepts us as part of her family, she'll be wary."

"How long will that take?" Weiss carefully scooped a hand under Grace, who seemed to be on the losing end of a battle to stay on her paws while enduring a sneezing fit, and deposited the cub in her lap while rubbing her back soothingly, worry pinching her brow. "I don't want her feeling unwelcome-"

"Once Yang arrives, she'll be more confident." She assured her sister, a small smile on her lips as she turned her head to look at her daughter. Despite being a tad overwhelmed by the new sights, sounds, and smells of the castle- and no doubt the entirely foreign presence of Blake and the cubs- Zephyr seemed to be taking the revelations well. She hadn't tried gliding back to where her cloak lay discarded and burrowing into the fabric, at least. "You're doing wonderful, Sweetheart."

The little dragon raised her head again, her wings fluttering in excitement before she curled in, rubbing against the side of Winter's neck to return the affection. The contact was short lived, however, as Zephyr snapped her head up and turned, slitted eyes focused on the castle's southern wall. Blake seemed to notice something, too, as her gaze fixed on some unseen point. She might've been concerned but any worry quickly evaporated when she felt the little claws scrabbling as Zephyr tried to get higher, tail lashing about excitedly.

A moment later, Yang appeared, soaring over the castle walls with ease, her bright scales shimmering with every motion. She passed over them, sending the cubs scurrying for cover between their mothers, while Winter stood, holding out her arm so her daughter could scurry along, wrapping her tail around her mother's forearm for balance while standing up on her back legs and calling out to her Momma overhead. Yang had likely seen them during her pass but she still turned her head, as if her child's calls alone had been her clue to their location, and banked hard to come back towards the garden. There would be just enough space for Yang to land despite her size- from nose to tail, she measured almost as long as the battlements were tall- but neither Blake nor Weiss seemed at all concerned, both doing their best to keep the cubs calm while Winter put a placating hand on Zephyr, stroking along her spine. With a great flap of her wings to ease her landing, the dragon touched down, shaking the ground slightly and pulling tiny mewls from the cubs as they tried to understand what just happened, all the while Zephyr eagerly waiting for Yang to turn around, bending her long neck so her daughter could scramble onto her nose. She dropped the travel packs she'd carried in one clawed paw, disregarding the personal effects entirely to focus on the little one.

"Hey, long time, no see," the dragon said, a cheery note in her voice despite the deep timbre. "What's up?"

Weiss furrowed her brows almost immediately, putting her hands on her hips. "You did not just ask us 'what's up' like you haven't been gone without reason for a full year."

"I had a reason! I just, uh, didn't mention it when I left..." Yang had the decency to look a tad sheepish, despite having received this lecture a few times since last she walked the castle's grounds. "Mainly because I didn't really, well, know why- but, hey, look on the bright side! Now we all know, and we're all back together! That counts for something, right?"

"Let no one ever accuse you of dwelling on the past." Blake offered with a wry grin on her feline features, her laid back attitude doing wonders to set the cubs at ease. One by one, they peeked out, staring in wonder at the golden dragon even as she turned her attention to her own offspring.

"You've been good for Mother, haven't you?" One eye closed as Zephyr made her way up, perching at the top of her Momma's head before chirping out a reply that pulled a laugh from Yang. "Oh, is that right?"

Winter watched with amusement, noting her sister's expression as the dragons continued to growl at each other, speaking in their own tongue.

"Do you ever understand a word of it?" Weiss spoke softly, though there was no doubt Blake overheard them, one of her ears flicking back briefly.

She shook her head. "Never."

Relief suffused her sibling's expression. "I thought it was just me. I swear, I think I can place specific sounds, but it just... makes no sense."

"It'll come with time." Winter straightened her posture. "We're Schnees, Weiss. There's no challenge we can't overcome."

"Through sheer stubbornness." The werecat added, though she seemed more amused with the assertion than exasperated by it.

"Heads up!" Immediately, she looked towards her lover, seeing Zephyr gliding down towards her and bracing herself against the impact. Although it could be unexpected and a tad disorienting, Winter relished the moment her daughter landed against her chest, claws sinking into the leather of her vest to keep hold; she wouldn't be able to do this much longer, according to Yang, who guessed the little dragon would grow to the size of a small dog in about two more months. By then, she should also be able to shift to a human form, too, but thoughts of the future could be put aside for the moment, especially seeing as the golden dragon finally caught sight of the little cubs now making themselves known. "Aw, they're adorable! Guess we're not the only new parents."

Yang lowered her head to the ground, turning so she could watch the cubs with one eye. The five remained apprehensive, Grace inching forward with Harmony not far behind, Licht doing his best growl while Lumi hunched his shoulders beside his brother, and Noire just looking between the two dragons, as if trying to work out how something so small looked almost exactly like something so large. Eventually, Blake took it upon herself to get up, padding over towards her friend with her tail swinging low to the ground, oozing ease and confidence as she stopped beside the dragon's cheek and sat on her haunches.

"Come here, cubs." The werecat looked back towards the little ones, leaning against Yang's jaw. "She's loud and obnoxious, but she won't hurt you."

"Weiss, don't tell me you've turned my best friend against me! I'm shocked, absolutely shocked." The dragon lamented, though a smile played across her reptilian features. "Or maybe you're just cranky. Let me guess- you're stuck like that until they move to solid food, huh?"

"Oh, shut up, you overgrown lizard." Blake lashed out with her tail, smacking against golden scales lightly. "Just wait until the first time you fall asleep somewhere low to the ground in your human form, and they come looking for milk."

Before a crass reply could come, Winter smoothly cut in, her tone light despite the seriousness of her words. "I will gently remind you that Blake likely had an easier time with birthing the cubs than you did laying an egg, Sundrop."

The dragon's eye twitched, lightly puffing air through her nostrils even as the cubs began climbing on their Mommy's back, putting tiny paws on golden scales as they investigated together. All the while, Zephyr remained calm, cuddled into Winter's chest and watching the other little ones curiously. She even let Weiss run a finger along the top of her head, much like her sister had done with the cubs, and gave nothing aside from a brief fluttering of her wings and a flick of her tail in response.

"She's taken a liking to you already," the elder of the two said, a smile on her lips. "You're rather good with children."

"Purely through sheer force of will. The past month has been quite the crash course, honestly." She quickly straightened out her appearance- an old habit that seemed reluctant to die- and checked the straps of her bracers, tugging at the sleeves of her cream colored top before tightening her ponytail. "Thankfully, Blake's a natural. I don't think..." Her expression dropped into one of deep thought before she continued. "I don't think we would've made it individually. At least, I wouldn't have. Raising one would've been a trial, but five at the same time?" She looked over to her mate, the werecat using her snout to push Licht up onto the ridge of Yang's nose, following Grace as she went to investigate the ivory horns arching above the dragon's head, and smiled softly. "I'm lucky to have her in my life. And the cubs, you, even Yang, and now Zephyr- despite everything, our family's growing, and I'm just-" She cut herself off with an unexpected laugh. "I'm just so happy right now."

Winter's lips twitched into a wider smile, pleased to see how much her younger sibling had grown in such a short amount of time. This wasn't the same young woman groomed to be a cold, calculating ruler since they were young; her intrinsic benevolence and strong heart helped her become something so much more. "I am, too. It's been a long road already, and I think things will get harder in coming years, but I'm quite pleased with how everything's turned out thus far."

"In a castle with two dragons, three ill-trained arcane mages, and six werecats, you honestly only think things will get harder?" Weiss laughed, putting a hand to her forehead. "Blake's insisting they learn to hunt like proper werecats and nobles and I have no doubt Yang will want Zephyr to visit the Dragonlands at some point. Our own magic- well, I'm not sure about you, of course, and you've always been more disciplined, but I just learned how to conjure, and now I'm meant to rule?" Rather than become overwhelmed by the enormity of the tasks ahead of them, the Queen squared her shoulders, determination shining in her eyes. "Things will be more difficult in years to come. All that means is that we must work even harder to overcome them and we're perfectly capable of such, especially given our chosen partners."

"You've become quite the optimist." Winter lightly bumped their shoulders together. "I recall a young woman always fretting over the smallest details growing up, trying to be perfect."

Her little sister nodded, chuckling softly. Yet, somehow, when their gazes met, she looked older, more mature, and it suddenly felt less like she was looking at a younger version of herself and more like a glimpse into a future she might've become. "Perfection is overrated. I'll admit being exposed to Ruby certainly helped but I suppose that's only part of it. I'm grown now, I have a family to help raise, and a country to rule. Without a little optimism, I'm quite sure I'd collapse under the weight of it all."

Blake, having had an ear cocked back towards them the whole time and with all the cubs now exploring the expanse of Yang's head to the dragon's delight, padded over and pushed her head beneath the woman's arm, nuzzling into the side of her chest. "Even if you did, I'd pick you up."

"Of course you would, Love," she replied, bending down to press a kiss to the center of the werecat's head, running a hand between her ears soothingly. "However-"

"Uh oh, heads up!"

Curious at the slight anxiousness in Yang's tone, the three of them looked up only for Weiss to be almost immediately assaulted by a flying cub; apparently, Licht thought replicating Zephyr's trick was a good idea, despite having little to no way to control his descent after becoming airborne. By either luck or reflexes honed by her newfound status as a parent, the woman caught her son well enough, but she didn't have much of a chance to chide him for his recklessness before Lumi followed suit, crashing into his mother with significant force and forcing the woman to concern herself with catching rather than lecturing. Then Noire, then Grace, and finally Harmony all jumped as well, and the last seemed to be just too much for Weiss to handle as she lost her balance and landed on the flat of her back, covered in cubs and thoroughly unamused.

"Yang, you've been back five minutes and you're already causing havoc!" A cold glare landed on the sheepish dragon, whose smile did little to temper the ire directed her way.

Winter could only laugh, kneeling to allow a suddenly very interested Zephyr down to the ground while the cubs went about finding their paws again, a little disoriented from their impromptu flight. Harmony almost immediately recovered, bounding towards the little dragon and flicking her tail playfully. Although she seemed less reluctant to retreat than before, Winter noted that her daughter still seemed a bit mystified by the werecats, tucking her wings in to make herself appear less of a threat.

Furrowing her brows, the woman wondered how long it would take for the little ones to acclimate to each other. Although dragons were solitary by nature, Yang was probably the most social of her kind in recorded history, and she'd hoped that Zephyr would take more after the blonde than herself. She didn't want any child of hers growing up accustomed to the sensation of loneliness the way she and Weiss did when they were young.

"Hey, Snowdrift." Her attention switched to the larger dragon, who seemed to read her mind. "Think what you did to introduce yourself to Zeph might work for them?"

"It's... possible?" Truth be told, it was less a conscious decision to 'introduce herself' to the little dragon and more the peak of her frustration with having her own child scurry away in fear, but it seemed to do the trick. Afterwards, Zephyr didn't seem to mind her approaching, and even took to climbing into her lap or onto her back when possible. Their relationship progressed form there but that night by the campfire certainly constituted the beginning. "The least we could do is try. Presuming, of course-"

"Presuming we have some obscure prop readily available?" Weiss raised a brow, actually daring to sound affronted when addressing her elder sister. "Because we're certainly not lacking for motivation. Come, Winter, what do you need us to do?"

"Well... the first thing to do is to get on her level." She laid down on the grass with her arms out to her sides, waiting for her sister to mirror the position before continuing and a little surprised Blake seemed just as interested, pressing herself low to the ground beside her mate.

"Uh, Blakey-"

"I'm full of milk, Yang, not cubs. A little physical exertion is good for me."

For her part, Zephyr perked up, looking between Winter and her extended family as the cubs, unable to understand the instructions themselves, merely copied their Mommy, the five lining up in a neat little row between Blake and Weiss. The little dragon made a few noises, high pitched chirps that sounded excited, and then pressed herself towards the ground, tail behind her and wings spread just the tiniest bit. Yang carefully maneuvered herself her lover and child, her shadow blocking out the sun.

"Now, look at her. Make eye contact and maintain it." Winter contemplated how to describe the next step before settling on the most straight forward method available. "Next, you need to push yourself up to your 'hind legs', curl your fingers like they're claws, and roar."

Predictably, her sister shot her a look that managed to convey her confusion as to how, exactly, the woman arrived at this particular series of actions, but she nodded regardless. After taking a moment to gather herself, Weiss pushed herself up to her knees, did her best impression of a snarling dragon, and growled in a way that strayed closer to the sounds the werecats made than anything a dragon would. Then again, the similarity might've seemed so obvious because Blake managed to execute her own motions almost in sync with her mate, using her tail to keep her balance as she reared up on her hind legs, brought out her claws, and roared loud enough to echo off the castle's walls, ears laying back out of habit. Even the cubs attempted their own mimicry, their tiny growls not nearly as loud as their Mommy's but heartfelt all the same, little paws clawing at the air. When the werecats and Weiss returned to the ground, a few of the cubs stumbling slightly, it was time for the next step.

In answer, Winter, Yang, and Zephyr reared back and replied, with the golden dragon's roar being accompanied by a line of flames arching high over the garden and a tiny burst of blue fire coming from their daughter. Yang's tail and the strength in her limbs allowed her to keep her upper body from coming back down too harshly, and remain in position long enough to deliver her roar, but the little dragon had to flap her wings a few times to do the same, though that hardly mattered. The moment she had her claws back on the ground, Zephyr shot forward, investigating the cubs with vigor now that she seemed to accept them as being 'dragon enough' to safely interact with- at least, that was how the blonde explained it when they were confronted with the result of her first time doing the actions. Whatever the reason, the young werecats seemed entirely too thrilled with their new playmate, sniffing at the little dragon and pushing at her with their paws, only to have a tail or wing tap them from an unexpected angle and send them jumping away, just to come back a few moments later.

Already aware of the impending dangers, Winter quickly pushed herself up to her hands and knees. "Weiss, you should get up."

"Hmmm?" Her sister blinked, entirely distracted by watching the little ones play together, crossing her arms in front of her and resting her chin atop them. "Is something the matter?"

"If you stay down there too long, you're gonna regret it." She could hear the amusement in her lover's voice without seeing the smile curling her lips.

"What on Remnant- oh." Too late, the woman found herself rather suddenly declared sacred land that required defending as an impromptu game of 'king of the hill' began, with Zephyr being the first to clamber onto her back. The cubs swiftly followed, Licht and Lumi working in tandem to displace the dragon while Harmony and Noire relied on their speed to bait the other three into battling each other before acting on their distractions. Grace, on the other hand, seemed perfectly content to leave the others to their game, instead padding over to try sinking her tiny fangs into Winter's sleeve, looking for something a little more solid to test her strength against. "Cubs! Children! I am the Queen of Atlas and your Mother, not a playground!"

"You didn't seem to object when they were crawling all over my face." Yang pointed out.

"Comparatively, that's less of a problem, seeing as you're the size of a house and I'm-"

"Tiny?"

"Petite. I am petite, you roaming fireplace."

"Right, so, tiny."

"Yang, stop giving my mate grief." The werecat gently chided, apparently coming to Weiss' rescue by nosing the cubs off the woman's back. Zephyr took a little more effort, the dragon using her wings to try and outwit the larger challenger but eventually conceding defeat. Clear of the little ones pinning her down, Weiss made one attempt to regain her feet, which was effectively thwarted when Blake plopped herself down instead, a sly smile on her lips as she directed her gaze towards the cubs and dragon. "Also, mine."

"Blake!" The Queen wheezed, unable to even begin pushing herself up despite only a fraction of the werecat's body covering her own. "Blake, what are you doing?"

"Marking my territory," she replied, once again crossing her paws with a sense of finality.

Winter picked up Grace, surprised at how easily the cub accepted being held, and sat on the grass while Harmony did her best to clamber onto Zephyr's back, swatting at her wings while Licht tried nipping at her face, never quite able to get within reach. Lumi, meanwhile, tried halfheartedly to shake off Noire, who was gnawing on his right ear. Yang used her tail and neck to circle around all of them, watching the little ones play while her best friend teased her sister-in-law.

Well, legally speaking, that last bit didn't quite ring true yet, but once the excitement of being reunited died down, Winter fully intended to plan out the ceremonies for her sister and herself. Now only did she fully intend for Zephyr to be her heir but she but she wanted no one questioning the legitimacy of her feelings for Yang, despite their... rocky start, in both their relationship and parenthood. She shuffled back until she could lean against her lover's solid frame, content to sit with Grace curiously clawing at her vest, apparently amazed at the texture.

A thought struck her as she watched Licht get chased away by a spurt of blue flame- from personal experience, she'd found it wasn't yet truly hot enough to burn, merely heat tinged by the little dragon's innate magic- and hide by his Mother's head while she quietly argued for her freedom with the larger werecat. "Where's Whitley?"

Weiss stopped her struggling for a moment, a shadow passing over her expression as she mechanically reacts to her son swatting at her arm, twisting it left and right to keep Licht from catching the prize too quickly. "He's... likely in the library. He locked himself in there just after the cubs were born and I've hardly seen him since. I don't think he's... quite as enthused as we are."

"He probably doesn't understand it." Winter offered, saddened that things between her younger siblings hadn't improved since she left. Whitley always qualified as 'the difficult one' growing up, at first rebelling against their parents while his sisters did everything in their power to obey, and then playing the obedient son when the young women revolted, landing somewhere in the middle during the coup that won Weiss the crown. He'd been helpful and even kind in the month immediately before she left, chasing after Yang, but something might've changed in the meantime. Perhaps living with a pregnant werecat had some downsides she missed out on experiencing. "If it's any consolation, it's only a matter of time before Whitley finds someone special himself."

"I worry he's already found someone special: himself," her sister replied, a wry grin to her lips as she shoved aside her melancholy to react with appropriate feigned agony as Licht's bite finally found purchase.

However, it soon became apparent that he lacked the same energy from before, the others tiring as well and beginning to stumble around together, obviously fighting to remain upright while playing.

"Looks like it's time for a nap." Blake observed, pulling a groan from her friend.

"How do you get them to lay down? Zeph fights us every time and I have no clue what to do!" Yang bent her long neck to drag a clawed paw down her face. "She just snaps and runs around until she literally drops where she's standing! I know we're supposed to get her on some sort of schedule but-"

"It's easy." The werecat assured, lifting her head. "All you have to do is cheat. Watch."

Lifting herself up just enough for her mate to crawl out from under her, Blake waited a moment before starting up a low growl, demanding the attention of the cubs and Zephyr. Once their eyes were on her, the werecat opened her jaw wide, tongue lolling out as her ears shifted back. Almost immediately, the six little ones yawned as well, their determination to keep playing dramatically reduced with just that one little action. Then Blake did it again, settling back down and turning on her side, making a grand show of getting comfortable. Winter blinked in surprise when Grace suddenly wiggled out of her arms, padding a few feet away before laying down on the grass and yawning again. One by one, she was joined by her brothers and sisters, the cubs snuggling up together as they continued yawning, ears and tails drooping until they settled down. And, to her further surprise, Zephyr circled them, clearly intending to join the pile but looking between her parents before doing so, waiting for some sign it would be okay.

"Go on." Yang nodded, trying very hard to contain both her shock and excitement. "Get some sleep, kiddo."

Fluttering her wings in gratitude, the little dragon wasted no time in climbing atop the pile of cubs, apparently unwilling to find a spot among her cousins and opting instead to rest on top of them. None seemed to mind, Harmony going so far as to turn on her side, grab Zephyr's tail with her forepaws, and use it as a pillow of sorts.

In a matter of minutes, everything was still.

"Are... you... kidding me?" The golden dragon whispered, puffing out a breath through her nose. "That's it? That's all you do? And it works every time?"

"Obviously," Weiss replied, stifling a yawn of her own behind one closed fist. "Now, if you'd like to join us, I think a nap sounds rather nice."

The Queen of Atlas crawled towards her mate as Blake moved one paw to allow Weiss to curl up, back pressed to the werecat's front, before using her paw to pull them even closer together. If Winter had to guess, it was as much a pragmatic decision as a sentimental one; she couldn't imagine either of them being keen on changing their sleeping arrangement for long, all things considered, and this way meant it would be markedly more difficult for the cubs to wake their Mommy up by getting an early dinner.

Behind her, Yang shifted, just enough to draw her gaze up to the dragon's face. They were both exhausted from the journey back to the capital, true, and sleeping outdoors seemed the least of their concerns. While she would prefer cuddling up with Yang's human form, that would require retrieving suitable clothes for her to wear from their travel packs, and that seemed a bit too far- and too much loud movement- for the moment. Wordlessly agreeing, Winter got up and moved closer to her lover's front leg while the dragon extended one wing, providing shade for everyone and tucking her head up underneath it as well. Before laying down, the woman placed a kiss at the end of Yang's nose, smiling at the bump she received in reply.

With her back against the warm, golden scales of her lover, her sister and her mate already lightly dozing a few feet away, and their combined offspring between them, Winter drifted off into a peaceful, light slumber.

Without opening her eyes, she could tell three things: hours had passed they'd laid down, she was not ready to be awake yet, and her lover had moved in her sleep. The first she figured out from the cooler air and the orange glow against her eyelid, telltale of the setting sun bouncing off the castle's windows and into the garden and labyrinth below. The second, purely from her abnormal reluctance to actually move, likely a product of the long journey in search of Yang and bringing both dragons back home, most of that time spent either sleeping restlessly when she could or waking at odd hours when it seemed Zephyr needed food or water. The third, although hinted at by both the sunlight bearing down on her and the lack of warm scales at her back, actually had its biggest evidence in the loud snore Yang always developed whenever she slept even partially on her back. The light droning sent little vibrations through the ground and it would no doubt wake the others; until then, though, she could indulge a little while longer. She'd already grown used to the sound and, frankly, preferred it to the silence that haunted her during the months she spent searching for Yang.

"Safe to say any doubt is utterly erased." The dry remark came from her sister, who apparently was wide awake, and caused her to blink her eyes open and turn towards the sound.

Weiss sat, leaning back against Blake, and both of them were watching the little ones with curious little smiles. All six of them had shifted themselves in slumber, with Licht now using his brother as a pillow, Harmony having somehow found her way on top of Grace's head, Noire having turned completely around, and, still on top of them all, laid Zephyr. Except, instead of being laid out like before, she'd turned onto her back, her left legs making little kicks at nothing. She didn't need to look, but she did anyway, rolling over to see Yang behind her, with her left legs kicking at the air as well, in between her snores.

Rather than wake the golden dragon, Winter shuffled back until she could lean against Yang, making herself comfortable and allowing her eyes to fall shut as her lover's snoring sent vibrations through her back. The little ones were still asleep and, despite how much catching up remained for all of them, there would be time for that later.

For now, she was content to let those who could continue resting.

A/N: Once again, Grace, Licht, Lumi, and Harmony belong to Dash. Noire and Zephyr are my own Next Gen OCs.

#Monochrome #Elderburn #High Fantasy Next Gen AU #what is wrong with me jfc I need to do better #TRR writes

41 notes · View notes