❝ the man i’m afraid of always had a mask over his eyes when he lied to me, ❞ blake says quietly, as if walking on glass. ❝ you met my eyes and i saw everything i needed. ❞ 

     her head dips as well, looking at the cold space in her palm where yang’s hand should be. it’s funny how even her warmth conveyed a fortress’s worth of security when yang is only flesh and bones. blake’s thumb strokes yang’s cheek in a gentle pattern. 

     ❝ i believe that whatever prompted you to strike him existed during that moment. i believe it threatened you and pushed you into a position where you needed to defend yourself. ❞ ah… how familiar. those are all words adam have said before, again and again until blake’s ears ached from the sound of a broken tape, and yet— and yet, they have never sounded so clear for yang. 

     ❝ i believe you, yang, ❞ she says with clarity.

        yang can recall a time many years ago when she and ruby had been playing in the garden, and ruby desperately wanted to learn how to cartwheel, but she had been too afraid to try. she was scared she would fail, that she’d fall and hurt herself. yang had cheered her on then, much as she does now. you gotta believe in yourself, rubes! she had said, after demonstrating. but until you get that down, all you gotta do is believe me! and i believe in you!  

        it had worked to a point. ruby tried, and fell, and hurt herself, but had mastered it within a week. it’s working now, where yang has finally opened her eyes and let herself absorb the sincerity in blake’s that matches the promise in her tone. somehow, despite the doubts filling her mind and trying to convince her she’s been crazy just like uncle qrow said, it reinforces what she does know. yang finds herself turning her face into blake’s hand and kissing her palm. 

          any wariness qrow was developing at the far too cheery tone coming from tai as he returns to the room comes far too late as he’s scooped up and the only complaint he can form is a strangled noise in the back of his throat. still, they both know there’s no point in him resisting. this is tai, after all. he’s stronger than qrow is by a country mile and… qrow has a soft spot for the brawler. he’s just grateful that he can hide the colour rush to his face in his hands and against the broader man’s back where he’s slumped over tai’s shoulder helplessly. 

           “i ain’t got no idea how long ‘m stayin’ fer, tai–” but, the reasoning is in vain, it dies in his throat as they make their way to the stairs and all qrow wants to do is curl up and not have to deal with the world anymore. at least for a day or two. he’ll be lucky if he’s given that long, though. it’s only a matter of time until he’s needed again. maybe he shouldn’t have come here again, leave tai to it. a pause, before he’s tilting his head just enough for his voice to be heard clearly. “th’ guest room? think i’m well known ta that bed by now, tai.”

        tai can’t actually decide if it’s a good thing that qrow puts up exactly zero resistance or not. on the one hand, good, he’s learning. on the other, it doesn’t say much for how much fight he’s got left in him. how many hundreds of fights with creatures of grimm would it take to make a man stop caring about fighting back? -------- no. taiyang doesn’t have the energy to spare for thoughts like that, not when he’s carrying the last friend he has over one shoulder and a pint glass of water in the other. 

        “the guest room,” taiyang repeats in a mocking tone that wouldn’t be considered unheard of on a school playground, as though the mere suggestion is such a foolish notion that only a foolish fool would suggest it. when he reaches the top of the stairs he turns heel and follows the corridor to his own bedroom, and dumps qrow unceremoniously onto his own bed. “don’t tell the kids, but i got myself a new mattress.” he says, resting the glass on the bedside cabinet and sitting next to the lanky form that’s sinking into a plush duvet and fluffy pillows. 

The normally stoic and stern professor deflated at the ‘no’ given to her. While she was usually one to keep up appearances, this matter had her clearly worried.

“Yes, actually.” Glynda spoke, bringing her hand up to run her fingers through her hair. “I discovered this morning that one of the apartments severely damaged during the first attack was mine.” She began to pace about slightly, pulling up a map of the area.

“I searched my apartment and the surrounding area and I couldn’t find my cat. There was a small amount of blood so I think he’s hurt, but I am hoping he’s still alive. I don’t know how far he could have gotten but I searched the immediate area around my home and found nothing. Since your search zone was relatively close I was hoping you might have seen something.”

        somewhere in the back of her mind, charlie remembers a dog. she’d been too young at the time to really understand the day that he left and never came back, but she remembered her mother’s hollow smiles and tales about the shenanigans rudy got up to that brought tears to her eyes. there’s no absence of empathy here. against her better judgement (better? or exhausted?) charlie hauls herself out of the ratty desk chair she’d been reclining on and dragged her body over to the map that glynda lays out. 

        “‘e uere ‘ere,“ charlie pushed the map flat with one hand and gestured to a circle to the east of where glynda had indicated was her home, apple safely (but hardly graciously) clutched between her teeth. “--oin’ ‘ere ‘oworrow.” a second circle drawn, another radius whose edge touched on glynda’s residence. charlie’s hand lifts to her mouth and retrieves the apple. 

          ‘ why don’t you take a picture with that fancy little scroll of yours ? ‘ she calls out to the other presence in the room without even looking back first. catra’s sat on the very edge of a chair with her feet propped against one of the lingering crates of dust the white fang has been responsible for transporting from various locations to the warehouse, idly picking at the bits of dirt that linger under her claws, reclined & seemingly relaxed despite the bristling fur of her nape. eventually, she tilts her head back to catch an upside down glance at the woman she feels staring so intently from across the room, her brows furrowed with cautionary aggression. ‘ i’m sure it’ll last longer than the one sided staring contest you’ve been having with the back of my head. ‘ / @ryoshan + neo.

     ❝ oh. ❞ ruby’s eyes widen as she looks at yang. that hasn’t crossed her mind at all since they’d arrived in mantle, and it sets a guilt sinking deep into her stomach. ruby’s shoulders sink. ❝ yeah, we should. can you maybe help me with the letter later? i need a little time with that, and right now, i just wanna… chat. ❞ ruby gives a little smile, but her eyes plead with yang.

     ruby remains quiet the rest of the way down the hall. the door of their suite beeps gently when ruby presses the card against the reader, and they both enter the small living area that sits between their two rooms and head towards the left hallway for ruby’s. on the way, she greets weiss and gives her a kiss on the cheek, then moves towards the mini fridge to fetch all of them bottles of water. 

     ❝ ah, so, ❞ ruby says, tossing a bottle to yang. ❝ weiss probably figured it out faster than me, but i got the idea something was going on when you and blake used to sneak out of practice together and disappear for a while. so, c’mon, tell us the deets right now! ❞

        right. of course this is what ruby’s urgency is about, and despite yang’s eyes never wavering from ruby’s she can feel the silent judgement virtually piercing her skin from the girl who is now casually sipping water on the bed closest to the door. she thinks of making a comment about ruby and weiss pushing their beds together too, but the thought of weiss’ retribution is enough to keep her quiet. 

        (that, and it’s classic deflection, and yang is trying to be better about that.) 

        “c’mon ruby, this kind of story writes itself.” yang grins, and perches on the bed weiss isn’t currently occupying like a self-satisfied cat to open her bottle of water. it takes some effort to remember she’s a career story-teller, except it doesn’t feel like her story to tell. not the latest chapters, at least. 

          “ so you’re miss yang. ”  ery eyes the brawler with a smile, one that holds all the ‘thank you’s her heart cannot yet muster to the young woman.  “ do you want coffee?  or a snack?  if what pyrrha’s told me about you is anything to go by, i am in for some wonderful company. ”  the redhead offers yang a playful grin as she walks into the kitchen to bring out some coffee regardless of yang’s answer, leaving pyrrha’s girlfriend in their living room.  

           there are several picture frames of pyrrha around the house, on counters and along the walls, all depicting various ages.  an abundance of gleaming medals and trophies line the area around their fireplace, and by the way they’re all enclosed in a glass case, you can tell that ery’s pride in her daughter’s accomplishments is unparalleled.  to the left of the fireplace is a deep red leather couch with a recliner attached to the end of it.  “ sit on the couch if you would like.  and make yourself at home, please. ”

it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, @ryoshan.

        it’s taking every once of yang’s strength not to excitedly run from photo to photo like an excited puppy, but as comfortable as she already is in what she’s sure is about to become a home away from home, she does have some sense of propriety. at least, for as long as it takes for pyrrha’s mom to disappear into the kitchen. then she’s scampering over to the pictures and picking them up one by one and reading them like the stories she used to read to ruby. 

        “ dad always said never to refuse food! ” yang calls, putting down a picture of pyrrha posing with what seems to be a very early version of milō (that stands taller than she is) and turns her attention to another; this one looks more recent, of pyrrha in a clinically white room smiling tiredly at the camera, both hands on each hand rail of a free-standing walkway. yang’s fingers linger on the glass. 

“I do worry about it.” Glynda looks to Charlie as best she can, narrowing her eyes to hopefully make the woman out a bit better. An effort that would ultimately be fruitless. Her vision didn’t change at all, though somewhere in her mind she knew that would be the case.

“I reacted poorly. I…shouldn’t have done that. Not when you mean so much to me.” An alarm quietly blared in her mind, cutting through her slightly drugged state. She was getting to close to saying something she might regret. ‘I have to backpedal…‘ “You’re one of my best friends, Charlie.” ‘Nailed it.’

        charlie shakes her head, an awkward smile on her face as her hand waves away the apology like too much fog in a small room. “i’m serious chick, it doesn’t even matter now. water under the bridge and all that.” 

        she pulls her hand away, leaning back in her chair and taking a deep breath of the clinical air. it’s clean, which is comforting, but even charlie can’t call it pleasant. when is anyone ever in hospital for a good reason? 

       “ THIS ! IS ! alpha lion niner checking in for an update from agent red wolf, we are green across the board and flying high, what’s your status, over. ”

        yang speaks to the sky with blake’s hand held firmly in hers, just in case the starlight in her soul decides to rise, rise and join her brethren bathed in moonlight. there’s a slight breeze, and it makes the stairwell door behind them squeak on its now-loosened hinges, the shards of wood from its broken lock scattered on the tar of the roof. she’ll fix that, she promises (yang had dragged blake up too many floors to count for this romantic gesture, she wasn’t about to let a single lock stop her).

        yang’s free hand finds blake, and she stands before her like they’re children in a schoolyard, playing at holding hands for the first time. blake’s eyes seem to glow in the darkness, and yang wonders if she used to wear night like camouflage instead of shining against its backdrop like she does now. 

        “ how are you feeling now that... ” it’s been slightly longer since you shoved half a sword through your ex-boyfriend’s gut, “ ...now that we’re here? ”

          pyrrha stops in her tracks suddenly ( she finds it rude to walk - and - talk with a stranger, especially when they seem to have something important to say ), green eyes falling to the girl before her with a small look of surprise on her face written in red cheeks and raised eyebrows.  “ oh!  hello. ”  she smiles weakly at her classmate, one she recognizes, but not one she’s spoken to yet.  “ and you’re — ilia. ”  she seems to be very close to blake.  the champion blinks at the smaller female in mild confusion.  nikos clasps leather - gloved hands together in front of her ( an anxious habit for when she’s unsure of what to do, yet still looks polite to those who may be paying close attention ) and clears her throat, but despite her nerves, her voice is as sunshiny as the day on the outside campus where the pair stands.  pyrrha scrapes the bottom of her boot along the concrete sidewalk and back to its original position as she replies.  “ um, certainly!  is everything alright? ”  

“Professor Goodwitch! She’s one of the coolest!” Ruby grinned brightly, trailing after Charlie much like a puppy would. “I actually met her on the night of the robbery! She saved me from these flames that a shadow woman sent! She was on Torchwick’s ship!”

She came to a sudden stop, the gears in her mind turning. Her brows lowered in confusion, staring at the woman who kept moving.

“Wait…there’s no way we’re talking about the same Goodwitch! There’s no way she has friends. At least that’s what others say.”

        “aw, she’s not all bad, y’know?” charlie laughs, way more amused than she’s got any right to be that glynda’s reputation is having no friends. it’s a little concerning at its base, but she can only assume this many years after their time in school that glynda’s just perfected being intimidating and isn’t actually completely alone here. 

        temper, temper, dad used to always say whenever yang took a step forward in ire. and there’s irritation there, sure, but yang isn’t angry with uncle qrow. there’s something far more fragile with cracks in places and a chip here and there rising to the surface as she steps towards her uncle and places a hand on his shoulder. its as much a plea as it is a gesture of comfort, too soft to hold him back but too warm to want him to do anything but stay. if he looks back he’ll see her eyes, not as harsh as her mom’s nor as cool as her dad’s, an uncanny mix of the two with a deep and heavy sadness weighing on them. 

        “ c’mon, uncle qrow. you never talk to me about anything! ” there’s urgency, and another crack snaps a perilous path up to yang’s throat. “ we’re supposed to be family. when are you gonna stop avoiding me? ” 

          “ you did, genius, ”  she says between fiery kisses.  once they become too overwhelming for her lungs ( and the space between her legs, but she can’t exactly acknowledge that in the school hallways full of cameras ), she pauses to take a deep breath, huffing for air as if her life depends on it and staring yang in those beautiful lavender pools, breathless.  “ i missed you, too, yang.  fuck. ”  

          despite bringing the sudden makeout session to a halt, her affection doesn’t stop there.  it continues down her girlfriend’s neck, coco’s head tilting to press desperate kisses to the unmarked skin, to claim it once again as hers.  she can taste sunny dragon’s pulse racing beneath her tongue when she gets a bit too eager.  and that’s when, again, she forces herself to cease dangerous actions that threaten to explode into full blown intercourse in the hallway.  

          coco clears her throat and plants another kiss onto the blonde’s lips.  this time though, it’s an extended liplock.  it lingers, and the brunette gives herself the time required to breathe in yang’s scent ( like oil and sweat and the distinct smell of iron ), sigh pent up emotion contently into her mouth, take all of her in in a way she’d not done since ages ago in the dorm rooms of beacon academy.  when she parts from the kiss, coco groans almost needily ( and you can hear her desperation for more in the sound ), but she relents.

          “ baaaby, ” she coos, arms receding from around yang’s neck so that bare hands can come to rest on that face full of sunshine she’s thought about for literal years at this point.  thumbs brush over her beloved’s lovestruck visage, somehow seeming more mature than it once was.  coco’s first thought is that maybe the trauma did it, mentally aged yang beyond her years, but she knows better than that — she knows that yang’s more than powerful enough to mature on her own, grow stronger and overcome every obstacle in her way like an olympic champion ( and sportsmanship be damned, yang xiao long deserves every first place medal in existence.  after all, they were crafted from her very essence !  gold. ).  

          when she’s finally regained her breath, she smiles once more, that charming grin reflecting back all the happiness yang brings to her life.  “ what— what are you doing here?  are your teammates here, too? ”  and despite the overwhelming adoration pouring out of her in the moment, there’s a voice haunting the back of her head that tells her she’s not here for you, coco.  her smile falls partially.

        you wouldn’t think coco asked a question at all from yang’s reaction. her hands are altogether too busy relearning the curves of coco’s body (it’s chaste! they never went under clothes! she’ll insist, when some professor or another splits them apart for publicly lewd behaviour). hours and hours overhead in an uncomfortable airship led to this, and yang intends to get her money’s worth, so to speak. for how restless she’d been on the flight, antsy and excited and even nervous as if there had been the slightest chance coco had forgotten her, she knew her teammates wouldn’t forgive her if she didn’t. 

        “ not just my team, ” yang manages to huff between ragged, adoring breaths. her hands have long since reached the hands on her face, peeling them from her cheeks so she can press kisses to palms and fingers. they taste like sweat and the unbearable weight of a full heart. coco’s being kept pinned against that corridor wall by the sheer strength of yang’s hips and thighs alone, further damaging the good old chastity case should they be caught in such a risqué situation. “ there’s jaune and nora and ren too. and some strays we picked up along the way. ” they’ve turned into a regular dungeons and dragons party, and yang doesn’t know how to begin to explain how they came to be in the company of a teenage boy and a cranky old aged pensioner both. 

        “ it’s a long story, and i’ll tell you all about it, but first, ” there’s only a kiss at first, deep and desperate and divine and full of every promise yang ever made to see coco again some day. then, yang releases her hands, and places her own on coco’s face. calloused fingertips trace the shape of her smile, and cheeky thumbs tuck around the edge of her shades, just enough for yang to get a tiny peek at the treasures that lie behind them. it’s like looking on god for the first time, when you’ve been searching for her your entire life.