#he has no idea that atlas always wears a silver earring on that side - so they're always matching

[nobodieshero-main]

mordred pierced his ear bc he hoped that if he matched with atlas, he'd stay home longer - he did it by himself with a sewing needle, surprised by how much it hurt, and he cried when it bled and there was no one there to clean him up, so he did it himself; and when it got infected he hid in the library and researched it and figured that out by himself too.

by the time atlas next returned to the estate, tugging gently on the silver jewellery with a smile and a murmured "we match", mordred had almost forgotten that was why he'd done it.

[squipedmew]

well, since i was at it, I decided to make Vacuo designs for team JNR as well! (Link to my team RWBY designs)

 Here’s some more in depth stuff:

- Jaune, honey, PLEASE pick a consistent aesthetic. I have no idea whether you’re trying to be classic knight, average white boy, or steampunk. Nevertheless, I tried to combine all of those into an outfit. 

- The shoes he’s wearing are sand boots, based off of the sandboots from breath of the wild. (a good chunk of this design is based off of link from botw actually) 

- His cloak is designed to help him shield himself from the sun and sandstorms, but it’s very thin, so as to keep him cool. 

- I’d imagine the bags on his two belts hold those funny little shield grenades in them that he throws during v8 a ton. 

- Other then that, I didn’t feel the need to modify his Atlas design all that much, it’s actually one of my favorites. 

- Nora my beloved! First off, I wanted to keep the bright colors of her Atlas arc outfit, rather than the more muted greys and navies of her Vale and Mistral ones, as well as incorporate the heart symbols back into her outfit. 

- Nora isn’t scared to show off her scars, wearing them as a source of pride. As such, she opted not to wear leggings or anything like that. I did give her legwarmers, mostly because they looked cute. 

- Her jacket is actually fairly puffy, and I’d imagine the collar actually goes up pretty high when it’s zipped up. 

- I also wanted to incorporate the silver in, while keeping it an accent color, so I opted to make only her belt buckle and cuffs around her arms silver, and leave it at that. 

- Gotta say, Ren is actually really hard to design for. His fashion is this strange niche of classic Ninja, street style fashion, casual wear, and warrior fit. It was a lot of fun!

- Ren didn’t want to cut his hair, instead styling it up sort of like his father. He also has his father’s knife strapped around his leg as both a memento and an emergency measure. 

- His legs have some slits cut into the sides for ventilation, and his shoes have silver armor on them to match Nora’s, and to make his landings easier, since he already fights close to the ground anyways. 

- I also added in the pop of pink under his shirt and half sleeves, because I thought it looked cool. 

BONUS: Re-RE-designed Vacuo Weiss!

So this here was the old Vacuo Weiss design, and on further scrutiny, I really don’t like it. The colors are kinda ugly, there’s too much happening on the top with the weird silver and red shoulder pads, and don’t even get me started on the tights. And more then anything, it doesn’t really feel like Weiss. So here’s Weiss’s Vacuo outfit, mark 2!

- I wanted the design to have a lot of white in it, which my first one didn’t, and while I considered putting her hair down like in the first, it really ruined Weiss’s silhouette, so I kept it the way it was. 

- I opted not for sheer leggings this time, since she doesn’t have any in her Atlas design anyways, but tried to make it so her white boots didn’t blend in so much. 

- The original design had WAAAAY too much red in it. Red’s always been an accent color for Weiss, so having it feature prominently kinda ruins it. So I scaled it back a ton, just using it for her earrings, necklace, and boot accents. 

- Her dress is embroidered, as a callback to her Vale design, and the dress has some sheer fabric laced onto it, both for heat reasons and also as fashion. Weiss opted to go shoulder less as opposed to her usual tight crop jacket to try and beat the heat, as well as being a reference to Winter’s Vale design. 

[thegreatestofheck]

The Sun, The Moon, and The Stars ✯Prince Zuko✯

warnings - i’m not really sure how to say it, but she’s a water tribe girl in the fire nation, so there definitely is some racism/mocking of culture at a few points, but I tried to keep it to a minimum. if you think I portrayed something inaccurately please let me know. I don’t want to be putting out harmful material.  synopsis - She is a non-bender from the Northern Water Tribe who somehow found herself smack in the middle of Fire Nation central, where a young prince is fighting an internal battle she hopes to help him win.  a/n - So, uh, I have so many obx requests in my inbox and I have so many chapters to update of all my fics but instead, I decided to write an atla fic because I have no self control. thanks that’s all. 

***

How you ended up working as a servant in the Fire Nation palace, you had no idea. One day, you and your mom were spending the day in your canoe, and the next, you were on one of the smog machines that the Fire Nation called “ships”. You thought you were going to die. Somehow, you wound up serving the princess instead. 

She liked to pinch your cheeks and poke fun at your brown eyes. Hers were amber colored, like the flames that flickered from the bronze sconces that were the only source of light at night in the palace. She liked to make fun of the way your hair looped and how you were always too hot, too uncomfortable in the revealing red clothing that they forced you to wear. Azula was her name, but she made you call her Highness. 

You were two years older than her but you were always at her beck and call. Her friends were hardly better. While they didn’t pick fun at you or insult your culture, they sure did nothing to stop her torture of you. But you couldn’t fight back. All you could do was sit there and smile and do what she said, praying that your complacency would keep your mother, wherever she was, alive. 

The prince, however, he was different. Even before his banishment, he was always kind to you. As much as the Fire Nation royals had done to you, your family, and your tribe, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him. 

He would smile when you passed by him in the corridor and never called for a guard when you accidentally ran into him. On the rare occasions you had to serve him, he would ask how your day was and he would help you where he could before his sister intervened. You once asked him why he treated you with respect. He told you it was because his mom taught him that everything that breathed was important and deserving of the same respect given to him. 

And on the day you told him that you hadn’t spoken to your mother in over a year, he promised that he would find her and find a way to reunite you with her. In spite of your better judgement, you felt a glimmer of hope. 

The next day, the young prince was banished after he lost an Agni Kai with his father. 

You never got to say goodbye. 

Three years passed. Three years of living at Princess Azula’s beck and call. Without the Prince and without her mother, she was nearly unstoppable. Her taunts grew more frequent, her hatred more vile. And then her friends left, Mai to live with her family and Ty Lee to join the circus. That left Azula bored with nothing to do but make your life misery. For three years you waited and suffered in silence. 

But then she left and you were all alone. There was no one to serve, no one to scream at you, no one to tug on your braids that you worked so hard to put in every morning. You spent your days wandering the halls of the palace you were never allowed to leave, hoping beyond reason to find your mother. 

But you never did. 

You were surprised with the Princess returned because she was no longer alone. Not only were Mai and Ty Lee by her side once again, but her brother, the exiled prince, trailed behind them. His chest was puffed, his chin was held high, the permanent reminder of his father’s hatred toward him worn proudly on his face. He looked defeated. 

When he saw you, standing there, breathless at the sight of him, he almost smiled and that look of defeat was almost like a victory. 

Three years ago, he had been just a scared boy who had shown a little bit of kindness to a girl he didn’t even know. He was older now, grown. His hair was longer and his eyes were a thousand times more haunted. You watched him walk into the palace, his eyes almost glued to you until he was out of sight. 

Life seemed to return to normal for all of an hour. Mai, Ty Lee, and Azula were lounging in the garden, ordering you back and forth for things they just kept laying by their side. 

“You wanna know what I heard about your dearest tribe?” Azula teased, her high pitched voice an unpleasent sound to your ears. You knew better than to respond head on and you knew better than to say no. She sounded too happy for it to be anything good. Still, you missed your home. You nodded your head slowly. Azula snickered to her friends just as Prince Zuko walked in, his eyes downcast. 

“That princess of yours died in our raid,” Azula sneered. Your heart started to pound against your rib cage, breathing going ragged. It couldn’t be true. Yue was blessed by the moon spirit. There was no way she would just...die. She was your friend, even if you had been nothing more than a fisherman’s daughter. You looked up toward Zuko, who had gone suddenly rigid, his face dangerously still. 

“And you’ll never guess who got her killed.” Azula stood up, walking toward you as you stood frozen. “Do you wanna know who got your precious princess killed?” 

“Azula.” Zuko’s words were a warning, but Azula just giggled by your ear. 

“Ask me who got her killed, y/n.” 

“Azula, that’s enough.” 

“Go on, ask me.” 

“Who got Princess Yue killed?” The sound of your own voice was foreign to you, never using it often, but you hoped there was some semblance of strength behind what you said. 

She traced a delicate finger across your shoulder before flicking it off toward her brother. Your eyes followed her movement, landing on Zuko. For a moment, you desperately wanted to believe it wasn’t true. The boy who had helped you clean up the messes Azula left behind would never kill your princess. The boy who had taken you to the Healers because his sister had burned you in her fury would never do something so horrible. 

“That’s not what happened-” 

“Ah, Zuzu, don’t be humble!” Azula’s laugh was trill as she plopped back into the grass beside her friends. But you didn’t care what she did anymore. Your gaze was fixed on Zuko, trying to figure out where you had gone wrong judging his character. “Don’t forget, you also killed the Avatar.” 

If you had thought your heart had been shattered before, this was the final blow. You had heard the rumors of the Avatar’s return. Knowing he was the only thing that stood between the Fire Nation and the safety of your home, you had relied on him, often dreaming that he would come to rescue you and your mother. With him dead, all hope of standing against the Fire Nation was dashed. 

You had often wished you were a bender, thinking that it may have spared you from living under the cruelty of the Fire Nation leaders. But there was never a time that you wished you were a bender so much as now, hoping nothing more than to be able to evaporate the shameful tears that fell from your eyes. 

“Aw, look,” Azula cooed as her friends watched on. “The little servant girl is crying for her dear princess and that Avatar. How sweet.” 

You didn’t care about the repercussions. You didn’t care what would happen to you. You needed to leave. You needed to get away from her, from them, from him. As far away as you possible could. 

Dropping the silver platter that was in your hands, you turned away and ran as fast as your trembling legs would take you. 

“y/n, wait!” 

“Don’t go after her, Zuko,” Mai’s dull and apathetic voice said. 

“y/n!” He didn’t appear to be listening. 

“I think you may have gone too far that time, Azula,” Ty Lee said, her voice quiet and timid. You didn’t hear much after that, turning to corner and making your way down the corridor. You could hear Prince Zuko’s pounding footsteps following after you, but you ignore him every time he called your name. 

Just as you turned a corner, you found yourself with a face full of red robes. Sucking in a gasp, you stepped back. You blinked away tears to find yourself standing before the Fire Lord himself and you froze in place, eyes wide. 

You had only met the Fire Lord once. It was a moment you would never forget and the most reoccurring nightmare you had. 

“Why are you crying?” He asked. You swallowed a lump in your throat and quickly wiped away your tears. 

“I wasn’t, sire,” you said, straightening your back. 

“Don’t lie to me.” He didn’t raise his voice, but you flinched anyway. 

“I, oh, I-” 

“Father!” Prince Zuko ran up beside you, struggling for breath as he bowed before the Fire Lord. “It was Azula, Father.” 

“My daughter made you cry?” The Fire Lord looked down at you with fury in his eyes. 

“No, Your Highness-”

“So, you’re calling my son a liar?”

“No, no! I just-” 

“Just what? Spit it out, girl!” 

“It’s been a long day, Father,” Prince Zuko interrupted, putting a hand on your shoulder. “I would like your permission to give y/n the day off. Azula has been working her like a dog and she needs a break.” 

The Fire Lord looked down at you, raising an eyebrow. You nodded slowly, confirming Prince Zuko’s story. You had barely slept since Azula had returned, running errands for her at every time of the night and the day. It was easier at night, sure, but when the sun rose, the exhaustion hit you all over again. 

“For you success at the Northern Water Tribe and in Ba Sing Se, I will grant you this,” the Fire Lord said. You suddenly remembered why you had been crying, why you had been trying so hard to get away from the Prince to begin with. 

“Thank you, Father.” 

Lost somewhere in your own grief, you almost forgot to bow to the Fire Lord before he walked away. As soon as he was out of sight, you made a break for it once again. This time, Prince Zuko was prepared and caught you by the wrist. 

“Azula always lies,” he said once you were facing him again. You tried to pull your wrist from his grip, but he was strong. 

“I know what breed your sister is,” you seethed, never before having spoken to a royal in the way you were now. “You and her are cut from the same cloth.” 

“No,” Prince Zuko said, his grip on your wrist tightening for just a moment before he relaxed it again. “No, we’re not. I didn’t kill your princess and I didn’t....” He lowered his voice and took a step closer to you, making you recoil. “I didn’t kill the Avatar.” 

“Then what happened?”

Prince Zuko looked around, as if trying to see if anyone was listening in. He then let your wrist go and beckoned for you to follow him. For a moment, you thought about running again, but as Prince Zuko started to walk away, your only chance at answers walked with him. 

Tiptoeing after him, you followed as he led you back toward his chambers. Sending one last glance around to check for guards, he guided you inside. 

“If this is some long ploy to get me into your bed....” You weren’t sure where your sudden boldness was coming from. Maybe it was the deep rooted anger finally bubbling forth. Maybe it was the fact that, despite everything, you somehow trusted the boy in front of you. 

Your bitter words earned you an amused smile from the Prince, which you hadn’t expected in the slightest. 

“No, y/n. I want to explain myself to you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because it would be nice to know that there was one person alive who didn’t hate me.” 

His words caught you off guard. The anger in your stomach dissipated and you dropped your hands to your sides. There was a smile on his face, but grief in his eyes. 

“Tell me what happened.” 

He brought you over to a table and sat in front of you. He started shakily, stumbling over his words, backtracking, trying to find the right place to really begin his story. But once he got there, the words flowed from his mouth and never stopped. Not until he told you about the battle at the Northern Water Tribe and Princess Yue’s fate, not until he told you about defecting with his Uncle and living in Ba Sing Se as Lee, not until he told you about the sickness his body went through after making one good choice, not until he told you about how he betrayed everyone who trusted him and let his sister kill the Avatar. 

You were crying again by the time he finished. Part of it was hearing all of the things that happened to your people, to the Water Tribe siblings who were helping the Avatar, but the other part was watching the boy in front of you cry too. He had been a boy when he left and you thought he had come back like his father. But you realized as you watched him now, face buried in his hands, that Prince Zuko was four times the man his father could ever be. 

“And none of that excuses what I’ve done,” he said, his voice haggard as he looked back up at you. “I know that.” 

“Have you...have you spoken to your uncle?” You asked, clearing your throat of the thick emotion that choked you. 

“A few times. He won’t even speak to me. He hates me.” 

“From what you told me about him, I doubt he could ever hate you.” 

His amber eyes met yours and for a brief moment, you felt your stomach twist. You should hate him. You should hate him for everything his nation had done to your people, for the way his sister treated you, for the way his father had separated you and your mother. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. 

“I don’t deserve your kindness,” he said. His voice went quiet. “After everything we have done to you-”

“I get to decide who is deserving of my kindness,” you told him firmly. “Your family has torn mine apart. They have brutalized my people, murdered my kin, and your sister has made the last years of my life a living hell.” 

Prince Zuko hung his head. You breathed out a calming breath and leaned forward, putting a gentle hand against his shoulder. 

“But you are not your sister.” You spoke just above a whisper. He looked back up at you suddenly. “And you are not your father. You are not the crimes of your people. I believe that you can still make things right.” 

“How?” He asked, voice breaking. “The Avatar is dead. What hope does the world have against the wrath of my father?” 

“I can’t tell you how to fix your own problems,” you said. “I can only tell you that if there’s a will, there’s a way.” 

You were shocked to see him almost smile. 

“You sound like my uncle.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He stood then, his chest puffed out, his chin held high, the scar on his face worn like a badge of honor. He looked triumphant. You stood as well, knowing it was rude to sit while someone else was standing. Prince Zuko took your hands in his and gave them a tight squeeze. You felt the urge to tug your hands away as your stomach tumbled again. 

“I made you a promise long ago that I would find your mother. I haven’t forgotten it.” 

“Your Highness, you don’t have to-”

“Please.” His hands tightened around yours again. “After all of your kindness despite the hatred in this place, it’s the least I could do. I will find your mother and then I will find a way to get you both out of here and back home.” 

Tears shimmered in your eyes and you struggled to keep them at bay. 

“I- Thank you, Your Highness.” 

“There’s no need for formalities. Just call me Zuko.” 

Zuko. Your lips twitched into a small smile, the familiar feeling of hope bursting into your chest. Your hope had seemed to die many times, but like a flame, it always smoldered. It was the only thing that kept you alive, the only thing that kept your spirit burning. 

“Zuko,” you said and he smiled, a toothy smile that any normal boy would give any normal girl in any normal situation. 

“y/n.” 

He leaned forward quickly and pressed his lips gently against your cheek. It was a brief kiss, more like the sealing of a promise than anything else, but it was enough to send bolts of lightning through your body and into your toes. When he pulled away, you knew your cheeks were flushed with heat, but you found that his were too. 

“I should....” You pulled your hands from his, trying not to wipe the sweat your palms accumulated on your skirt. “I should go find Azula.” 

“You have the day off, remember?” 

You shook your head. 

“I should get back to her.” You stepped around him and started for the door. 

“I’ll find your mother,” he called after you, as if you still needed convincing that he was serious. “Whatever it takes.”

“I trust you, Zuko,” you said, standing half way through the door. “I don’t know why, but I trust you.” 

~~~

So, I guess I’ll make a separate taglist for atla things just in case any obx people don’t want to be tagged in it. 

also, part 2 potentially? 

[jouretnuit-nightandday]

let me have a dance with her

Bumbleby Week Day 1 - Atlas Ball

They haven’t had much time to talk after getting to Atlas, though Yang wonders if they even need words at this point. They’ve both felt it, the shifting of their relationship, inevitable and immense like the shifting of continental plates. One minute they were still mending, dancing around each other, the tension palpable. The next, they’ve watched Adam fall to his death, blood staining his shirt, and Blake is crying on her knees, and Yang’s arms are around her, and everything’s changed.

Or: It’s the worst party ever, but Yang and Blake still find each other.

Yang usually loves parties, but this has got to be the worst she’s ever been to.

Everything about it feels stifling - the crowd of people dressed in their fanciest clothes, the chatter of conversation, incessant and grating, the air, heavy with perfume and incense and candles and the sour smell of sweat underneath it all.

She’s standing near a glass door that leads out to the garden, eyes scanning the crowd. She has no trouble finding Ruby and Jaune hovering not too far from Ironwood, who’s busy talking with a group of high-ranking Atlas military personnel. It takes her a little more time, but eventually she spots the rest of her friends, all engaged in conversation with various guests.

(Weiss is talking to Winter, hands crossed in front of her, and if Yang didn’t know her as well as she does, she wouldn’t notice the way her knuckles have turned white, the fragile tautness of her back, like a bowstring ready to snap. Yang’s heart aches for her, but she doesn’t move. She knows Weiss can handle whatever this is, and she also knows Weiss will call for help if she needs it.)

She sighs and takes a sip of her drink - some sort of creamy cocktail she hates - while she looks around for potential targets. It’s their goal after all, the whole point of going to this stupid, terrible party in Atlas: gathering information, making people talk, looking for any trace of Salem’s influence, any indication of where the war will hit next.

Yang hasn’t done much of that, so far. People here are just so fucking delicate, so poised and polished - they make her feel inadequate, awkward, too big and too loud and too much, a goliath in a dust shop. So she drinks, and flexes the fingers of her metal hand, and eyes the crowd, and reflects on the fact that this is the first party she’s ever hated so much.

She loves parties where people are happy, that’s the thing. There’s a way to loose yourself in a party, with the music and the lights and alcohol and bodies pressed close together and the sound of laughter. Yang grew up in a quiet house, after Summer died. A loving house, certainly, built by her father who, despite losing so much, still found the strength to give his children a home. But a quiet house nonetheless, so filled with absence and ghosts that even the babbling of her little sister couldn’t drown out the grief.

So Yang is drawn to the noise and the fun and the fleeting joy of parties. And this one has none of it.

She tries to smile at an older woman wearing an extravagant hat with silver feathers - the woman ignores her pointedly. Yang rolls her eyes, takes another sip. On the right side of the room, Blake is standing beside a marble column, talking with a man sporting the most ridiculous mustache Yang’s ever seen. He’s a little taller than her, and leans his head down to say something close to her ear. Yang catches Blake’s eyes, and winks. Blake rolls her eyes, clearly bored out of her mind. Yang hides a snort of laughter in her cocktail. The man smiles, Blake smiles too, and says something that makes him laugh. She’s good at this, Yang thinks, with pride. The daughter of a diplomat, through and through. She will be a great leader, someday, when the war is over and they have a future to think of.

A future. Yang can’t imagine a future without Blake, and now there’s something tightening inside her stomach, something pressing, urgent. She wishes she could just grab Blake’s hand and leave, and talk about their future, maybe. They haven’t had much time to talk after getting to Atlas, though Yang wonders if they even need words at this point. They’ve both felt it, the shifting of their relationship, inevitable and immense like the shifting of continental plates. One minute they were still mending, dancing around each other, the tension palpable. The next, they’ve watched Adam fall to his death, blood staining his shirt, and Blake is crying on her knees, and Yang’s arms are around her, and everything’s changed.

Blake brings her cup to her lips. The crystal lamps hanging low make her look ethereal, almost, in her black and purple dress, like a character out of a fairy tale, an enchantress, a queen. She’s wearing a bow, and Yang wants nothing more than to tug it out and free her ears, thread her fingers in the silklike softness of Blake’s dark hair.

Someone bumps into her, shaking her out of her reverie. “Yang, we’re supposed to be mingling”, Nora whispers way too loud. Inexplicably, she’s managed to get ahold of a full platter of dainty little fishcakes. There’s a waiter looking baffled and kind of scared on the other side of the room - Yang has no idea what went down, but she winces in sympathy nonetheless. “Stop staring at Blake and go talk to people!”

She stuffs an entire cake in her mouth - Yang can’t help but be impressed - and winks. “Or, you know, go talk to her, and ask her for a dance, lovergirl!”

Nora punches Yang’s shoulder, hard enough that if Yang were anyone else she’d be left with a bruise, and saunters over to where Ren is politely listening to a couple of old men wearing monocles and, absurdly, powdered wigs.

Yang turns her eyes back to Blake, but she’s disappeared in the ever-moving crowd. She sighs, takes one last look at her sad half-empty cup, and decides she’s had enough. She leaves the cup on a nearby table, and slips through the glass door, into the garden.

Outside the air is cold and sharp, refreshingly clear. It smells crisp, of fresh snow and something minty. Yang takes a breath, feels her lungs ache a little, pleasantly so, and rolls her shoulders. She’s in a paved alleyway, surrounded by marble sculptures and trees covered in a thin layer of ice. The music still comes through the opened window, and without the rest of the party, Yang can finally appreciate the lilting melody. The band is playing a classical piece, an atlesian waltz, both beautiful and melancholic. She closes her eyes, savoring the moment.

A sudden noise makes her jolt. A little further up the alley, in the semi-darkness, there’s something…someone? Yang takes a step forward, muscles tensing instinctively. “Is someone there?”

She hears shuffling, light footsteps, and then she blinks, taken aback. It’s a group of children, hiding in the garden, hesitantly walking toward her. Five of them, all dressed in warm and practical clothes, though not fancy enough to look like they belong in the party. Two of them are Faunus, siblings probably, with nearly identical dog ears amid dark curls of hair. The oldest looking one, who must be around ten, maybe twelve, pushes the other kids behind him, protectively. He’s glaring at Yang with outright suspicion. Yang relaxes her whole body, drops her shoulders, opens her hands, makes herself look as harmless as possible.

“Hello,” she says, with a smile. “I’m Yang.”

“Hi!” a little girl replies, cheerfully, before the older boy shushes her. “You from the party?” he asks, still frowning.

Yang nods. “Wasn’t much fun, so I decided to come out here. Lucky I did, cause clearly I found the real party!”

She winks at the kids, and they relax, all at once. She knows she’s won them over, so she crouches down to their level, and they come closer, curiously eyeing her metal arm, her wild hair, the shiny material of her ball dress. Yang pokes at the little girl, who giggles, delighted by the attention.

“What are you guys doing out here?” she asks. One little boy with dog ears and curly hair points at the door she just came through, rubs his neck. “Mama said we can’t go in, but we wanna listen to the pretty music. Are we in trouble?”

She shakes her head. “No, you’re not in trouble. It is very beautiful music.”

The older boy extends a hand. “I’m Max. Our parents are all working tonight, in the kitchen and stuff, so we’re waiting for them to go home. But we snuck outside to hear the music.”

Yang shakes his hand, gravely. “That was a smart move. I did the same thing.”

Max grins, looking down at their joined hands. “Do you know how to dance the atlesian waltz?” Yang nods, amused by his excitement, now that he’s no longer scared of her. “Would you, huh, teach me?” he asks, a little shy.

She laughs. “Sure thing.” She stands up, pulling him towards her. The other kids scatter in a half-circle, wide-eyed and fascinated. “Okay, so first you need to face me and put your other hand on my shoulder.”

It’s a little awkward - Yang is so much taller than him - but they manage a semi-correct position. Yang taps his feet with her own to widen his stance, then places her hand on his waist. “Okay, now listen to the rhythm of the music - one two three, one two three. We’re gonna follow the rhythm. Look at my feet.”

She leads him through the steps, and they start dancing clumsily. He’s clinging hard at her dress, a little unsure, and the line of his shoulders is too stiff - he almost trips a few times. Yang stays gentle, guiding him back to the rhythm again and again every time he falters. It reminds her, weirdly, of teaching Ruby how to swim - the patient repetition.

Max is not a bad dancer, and when he’s mastered the steps, Yang tries something a little more challenging. The other kids clap and cheer as Yang twists and turns the two of them around, her golden dress flowing in the cold air. She’s so focused on the dance - and on not stepping on poor Max’s feet - that she doesn’t notice when the other kids stop cheering, until there’s a hand on Max’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Blake says, to Max, with a kind smile. “Would you let me have a dance with her?”.

The boy glances at Yang, steps back, and suddenly his little hand on Yang’s shoulder is replaced by Blake’s, suddenly Blake is standing in front of her, face to face, her hair glowing under the moonlight, eyes brighter than any star above.

Yang feels warm all over. She rests a hand on Blake’s waist, almost shyly, and grabs her other hand. Blake’s skin is soft under her fingers, and familiar. They lock eyes, and start moving with the music, twirling on the icy paved alleyway, feet perfectly in synch. The children are standing on the side, watching them with awe and delight - the little girl’s mouth opens comically wide. Yang smiles, soft.

“What are you doing out here?” she asks Blake, low as a whisper, before spinning her around and back in her arms.

“I was looking for you,” Blake says, simply. She smiles too. The music slows, and she presses herself against Yang, until their bodies melt into one, cheek to cheek, heart to heart. “I couldn’t handle the party anymore, I just wanted to be with you,” she murmurs into Yang’s ear.

Yang trails her hand until it rests on the curve of Blake’s lower back, metal arm circling around her waist. “Me too.”

“Are you okay?” The words are soft, but sincere, and there’s genuine concern in Blake’s eyes. Maybe she’s wondering what drove Yang outside the ballroom. Yang’s chest fills with affection and gratitude.

She brings her other hand up to cup the back of Blake’s neck, and now the dance looks more like a swaying hug. “I’m great. Except…”

“Yes?” Blake breathes out. Her own arms are tight around Yang, fingers digging a little into the bare skin of her shoulder blades.

“Except I really want to kiss you right now,” Yang murmurs. She feels Blake shivering under her hands, feels the way her breath stutters out of her lungs, and she’s not nervous, not at all. It feels right, and the moment is perfect - the two of them in an iced garden under the moonlight, having just escaped the rigidity of atlesian etiquette.

Blake leans away a little, so she can look up and into Yang’s eyes. Yang reads wonder on her face, but also something else, something unwavering, the tranquil strength of absolute certainty. So she lets Blake tugs her head a little lower, until their noses are touching, until Blake’s lips meet hers.

It’s the gentlest kiss, the brush of butterflies wings against one another, yet it’s powerful enough to shake mountains inside Yang’s heart. Her cheeks burn, every inch of her skin is tingling, down to her fingertips. Blake kisses her again, a little rougher this time, capturing her lower lip between her teeth for the briefest instant. Yang feels on the verge of falling. Maybe she already did.

But she hears a small gasp, from behind her, then a giggle, and a couple shushing sounds.

Right. “We have an audience,” Yang murmurs against Blake’s mouth.

Blake chuckles and lets go of her, taking a step back. “Maybe we should go back to this later, in private.” Her expression shifts to something hesitant, and she blushes, pretty pink. “I mean. If you want to?”

“Yeah,” Yang says, catching Blake’s hand in her own, squeezing once. “I’d like that.”

The little girl comes up to Blake, and tugs at the side of her dress. “Excuse me,” she says, very solemn and obviously imitating Blake from a few minutes ago. “Can I have the next dance?”

Blake smiles, before schooling her expression into seriousness. “It would be my honor.”

She hoists the child on her hip, and starts spinning, and Yang watches her, her heart beating steadily in her chest, sure, like she’s never been before, of what she feels and what she wants.

Blake and Yang spend the rest of the evening laughing and dancing with children and looking at each other, thinking of their first kiss under the stars, and of many more to come, and when it’s time to leave, Yang sighs, happily.

See, now that’s the kind of parties she loves.

[lucytara]

lilac; I'm not strong enough to stay away

Atlas is hostile, treacherous, and unforgivingly cold.

Despite the hero’s escort Ruby’s silver-eyed powers and the end of the attack on Argus had granted them, the rest of the population doesn’t seem to believe it owes them anything. They’re forced to stop on the outer reaches of the border - airspace is too tightly controlled for exceptions to the military’s top general - and then only allowed the rest of the trip to the capitol via the national lines. In some ways it’s preferable not having to make the journey on foot, roofs above their heads in between storms and blizzards.

In other ways - they all shift uncomfortably outside of a restaurant with a sign that reads no faunus allowed - it’s unquestionably worse.

Blake crosses her arms, turns away with her ears flat; Yang’s vibrating at her side, anger so palpable her semblance is likely a hair-trigger away from firing on its own. Ice fights with her, struggles to solidify against the drips from the tips of its spikes, but doesn’t seem to be winning that battle. Just because something flourishes does not mean that it should be allowed to.

“Disgusting,” she spits viciously, and the rest of them only hum in agreement.

“I’m tempted to set it on fire,” Weiss says conversationally, fingers twitching, “but I know better than to think it ends here.”

“It’s fine,” Blake says, resigned. “Let’s just go.” She rests a hand on Yang’s arm, begs her forward without a word. Yang acquiesces to Blake’s touch as she always does, follows her lead. She’s not above making scenes, but sometimes they’re not worth the energy.

Yes, the racism’s the worst part of Atlas, no question about it; Blake’s faced with an onslaught of cruel murmurs and appalled stares from the moment they get off the airship, finding solace only in the few moments they’re spared some time alone, and then, alone. It’s said with implication. There are two sides to it, as there always are.

With that said, the second worst part of Atlas is her relationship with Yang: intense, undefined, and completely, totally secret.

She isn’t weak. She’s prided herself on that in recent time more than she has previously, and she wants it to stick, to hold, to mean something, but–

Filthy, a man whispers to his wife as he passes them down the cobblestone road, and sometimes all Blake wants to do is curl up in Yang’s arms and cry.

She’d known this about Atlas, that’s the thing. She’s been treated like this for most of her life. It’s the frustration that wears her down now, runs her over and through more than the actual hurt does. Atlas is the proof that in spite of everything, there are still places that seem as if they’ll never, ever change; that somewhere, she’ll always be unwanted.

Yang subtly tugs at her jacket, slowing her walk to a halt. “Hey,” she says shortly to the rest of the group as Blake pauses beside her, confused, “you look for somewhere to eat. We’re going to stop here and grab a hot tea. We’ll meet up with you.”

She says it so firmly and matter-of-fact that nobody questions her, let alone dares to invite themselves; her expression, her posture, her tone - she’s the ground before it splits, the fire before the windstorm. Ruby offers them a sad, half-smile before continuing their trudge along, glancing at windows, menus, and finally fading away.

Yang links their fingers together, tugs her gently to the door of the teahouse. She pushes it open and the bell chimes, the hostess glancing up with a polite smile already in place. “Hello,” she greets nicely, and crooks an eyebrow at the way Yang hovers, Blake just behind her. “Can I help you?”

“Are faunus allowed here?” Yang asks bluntly, her voice barely tempered, flat with a sharp edge.

The hostess blinks once in comprehension. “Oh, yes, of course,” she says nicely, and Yang opens the door wider, makes room for the two of them to enter. It’s mostly empty, only a single other woman sitting in the corner reading a book. “We don’t allow discrimination here. Of any kind.”

It’s warmer inside, lighter, smells like jasmine and honey. Blake says, “That’s a relief to hear, after the day we’ve had.”

“Would you like to sit, or have something to go?”

“To go, please,” Yang says. She’s relaxing somewhat under the less-oppressive atmosphere, tension unwiring from underneath her skin. She flexes her fingers in Blake’s, glances down at her. She’s already so much softer. ”Go ahead.”

The hostess takes their orders, directs them to a small window where they can wait; Yang pays with minimal objections. It was my idea, she says, so don’t worry about it. It’s all a group fund at this point, anyway. She isn’t wrong and Blake allows it without further argument.

“I’m sure it’s difficult, being here, surrounded by - by - these people,” the hostess says, quiet and empathetic, “but good ones exist, too. They’re out there, I promise.”

Blake smiles, tightens her grip around Yang’s hand. ��I know they are.”

They step off to the side, waiting for their orders. Yang doesn’t pull away from the display of affection; not that she would, regardless of who was staring at them - it’s always Blake, keeping their secrets to herself until there’s no possible way they can be used against her. She sighs, shifts her weight to her left, shoulders brushing through their coats.

“You okay?” Yang asks gently, heat from her never gone, only subdued. The lilac of her eyes is too vibrant amidst a colorless sky, a wall-less room. The snow coats the ground outside, unchallenged until it found itself beneath her feet. Atlas, Blake thinks, has never seen anything quite like her.

Yang’s still waiting for an answer, but all Blake can do is claim their moment of peace for herself instead of fight it; it’s been weeks, months, years, and it’s something she’s tired of. She slips into Yang’s arms, wraps her hands around Yang’s shoulders, lets her eyelids flutter closed. Yang doesn’t speak, merely hums and pulls her closer, casually, candidly - this - this could be a scene, but she won’t make it one. Blake isn’t weak. Yang’s aware of this fact better than anyone.

“Yeah,” Blake murmurs, breathes against the fleece collar of her coat. “I am now.”

Yang curls a single arm around her waist, drops a kiss to the top of her head, and for a few tranquil minutes they’re content to go unnoticed.

[starfaring-princelotor]

For My Family

Summary: The Emperor’s family has a few words with the Paladins of Voltron.

Pairings: Lotor x Half-GalraF!Reader

★ Disclaimer: I do not ship Lotura and I respectfully ask that this story to not be tagged as Lotura. This is a Lotor x Reader/Self-Insert OC story which is in no way related to Allura at all. Please be respectful of my chosen pairing. ★ 

Warnings: Racism. If you like Allura, this is not the fic for you.

Part One___Part Two___Part Three

Extinction (Bad Ending)___ The Giving Tree___Moonlight Path

Evolution (Good Ending)___Breaking the Ice___For My Family___  Priorities

Voltron has been captured.

The Paladins weren’t able to see their enemy’s faces, only that they were tall, intimidating, and dressed in various rugged wear. Nothing like the Galra soldiers they faced before. Their lions were separated from them and it left each Paladin antsy in the confined cell. At least they had each other and, as long as they were level headed, they can get out of this alive. They always did. They were the Paladins of Voltron, Defenders of the Universe.

However, after their recent battle, none of them truly felt like...heroes.

“How long has it been?” Krolia asked, breaking the ominous silence in the group, “There should’ve been someone sent to interrogate us by now.”

“Somehow, that doesn't really make me feel any better,” Lance slumped down the wall, giving up on trying to find a way out, “Shouldn't we, I don’t know, have some power that we can like summon the lions? Or maybe -”

Lance’s sentence was cut off as the door suddenly whizzed open. Everyone’s attention snapped to the three armed wardens before them. Two they recognized immediately as old foes. Ezor and Zethrid flanked the short one’s sides, but they looked different. They looked aged, gruff and battle ready. No longer were they generals, but warriors. They seemed much more...guided.

The third one pulled down the hood, revealing a rather young face framed with silver locks and sharp eyes. A face none of them personally knew, a face that made them all wonder if they were seeing a ghost. And, perhaps, that same ghost was back to haunt them until kingdom come.

Atlas.

Hair tied back with intricate patterns buzzed into the back of his head, a concealed dagger hidden under his coat, and a sword strapped to his shoulder. He was a child soldier, by choice or by force, none of them knew, but they were going to find out fairly soon. Nebulous eyes scanned over each prisoner, studying their wide-eyed expression at seeing what could only be Lotor’s son. From the skin tone, to the shape of his ears, to the eyes, Atlas was well aware he was a splitting image of his father.

At that thought, his nose twitched in a concealed snarl, “Where is he?”

No one said a thing, still reeling at the fact that Lotor, Emperor Lotor, had a family and never told his allies.

“Where is Lotor? Where is my Papa?” he asked again, impatience growing in his voice, “I know he was with you traitors at Daibazaal.”

“Hey, Lotor was the traitor  - “

“He’s gone. Lotor is...he is dead,” Allura interrupted, forcing the truth on him without thinking of her words, “We couldn’t save him.”

After a moment of heavy silence, Atlas frowned then pulled out his dagger from its sheath. It glowed a bright purple along the metal vines, but the meaning behind it was lost to those in the room. He was the only one who knew what that meant, yet the young boy had his own doubts clouding his mind. Lance took a step forward, body guarding the Altean woman from the threat of danger. Of course, that wouldn’t stop Atlas from spitting his words to open ears.

“You’re lying.”

“Look, we tried to save him, but he was too far gone,” Keith tried to explain, the guilt still fresh in all of their hearts, “Your father made his choice - “

“You’re lying!” Atlas yelled, silencing him from speaking any further with dismissive swipe of his hand, “You could’ve saved him. You should’ve saved him. You’re gonna wish you did!”

His brows scrunched in raw anger. The teen pointed his weapon at Allura, knowing damn well she was the most important person of the gang. Yes, his father talked about her, about how her “special powers” would be the key to ending the war. The key to ensuring a safe future for him and Mama and…

What a load of bullshit that was.

“Hurting us won’t bring back your dad,” the green Paladin spoke up, but her words fell on deaf ears, “He’s...he’s gone. You have to believe us.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound like Lotor to just be gone,” Ezor argued, “Where is he really?”                                                                                

“Tell me where you left him, or I’ll…” Atlas’ hand started glowing with magic, electrifying magic that Allura knew specific few who were worthy could receive.

He was chosen. This kid was granted the secrets of Oriande, the ancient Altean magic passed down for generations by her people. And now, now Allura felt a sinking mix of feelings stir in her very soul. Zarkon’s grandson was worthy. A boy with Galra blood was worthy. Something akin to betrayal bit her heart. Lotor wasn’t accepted, but this child was? No way. No way was she anything like...like that traitor’s son.

Why would Altean magic be shared with a murderous, blood-thirsty race?

The door opened once more, this time a firm command of “Atlas” breaking the tense situation. Almost immediately, his eyes fell to the floor and his weapon lowered, a motherly hand perching on his stiff shoulders. A gentle squeeze told him to back down. That’s enough, my son. Let me handle it from here. You shouldn’t be here. Not in the condition you were in. You ushered him to your side as you faced the Paladins, the supposed “allies” of the Empire. Of your husband.

“Empress, you shouldn't be up,” Zethrid cautioned, letting you use her elbow for support, “I insist you retreat back to your quarters. We can get the information out of them.”

“I’m sure you can, Zethrid, but we don’t have the time for idle talk,” You felt Atlas shyly wrap his hand around yours, “Besides, I would like to personally face my husband’s attackers.”

And face them you did. Eyes tired and heavy, burdened from forced sleep to ensure your health, and the large, protruding belly telling the Paladins all they needed to know. You were Lotor’s wife. And you were very, very much pregnant. It looks likes the Altean Colony wasn't the only well-kept secret Lotor hid from the Paladins. And rightfully so, too. If his enemies knew about his family, you and your son would be used as a weak spot. With your daughter on the way, it was absolutely critical to keep you and Atlas safely hidden.

Although, after a year of silence, it was you who decided to run. Take your boy with you. Rely on Lotor’s most trusted generals to care for you. That was when you knew something went terribly wrong, when all three of them arrived at your ship tucked away in the far reaches of the universe. You took your son and fled under the protection of Acxa, Zethrid, and Ezor. You would have ran beyond the known universe had it not been Atlas demanding otherwise.

“Paladins. I wish I could’ve met you under different circumstances, but considering the situation at hand, I think now is a good of time as any to reveal myself,” you took a deep breath, “I apologize about the restraints, but they are a necessity.” Keith hooded his eyes in suspicion, “Just like it was a necessity you had to capture us?”

“You fled when we sent you a neutral transmission. Then, you attacked us when we gave chase. I would’ve welcomed you as guests if you came peacefully, but Acxa did inform me that Voltron tends to face diplomacy with retaliation.”

So, you knew about...that.

Closing your eyes, you tried to calm that rising irritation from gaining control, “Look. I'm not here to kill you. Why would I do that when I need your help? When the universe needs your help? The Empire needs Lotor to return. His family needs him.”

“We helped put a tyrant on the throne, we will NOT be doing it again.” Allura let that mistake happen once and her naiveness cost her more than she can recover, “Lotor is a murderer. Asking us to bring him back so he can continue his reign would cost innocent lives. He killed my people and lied about it, not just to me, but to all of us.”

“So, you see fit that his people suffer the same fate? People like me? Like my son and unborn?” you questioned icily at her, guiding Atlas behind you to hide from her cruel words, “I know about the Colony. I know that you are all wrong about what took place there. And I will tell you this now, Allura, you no longer have a kingdom to rule.”

“How dare you! You have no right - “

“The Colony has been destroyed, as well as the rest of the Alteans. It’s been three years since the disappearance of Voltron and Emperor Lotor. Both of your absence gave people like Honerva a chance to come crawling out of the hole and gain power,” you kept eye contact with her, seeing her resolve slowly taking in the information, “ She chose to control New Altea, chose to exploit them in Lotor’s name. And those who rejected her, those who were loyal to Lotor, were slaughtered. New Altea is no more. They had no one to protect them.”

Yes, Allura lost more than she could ever recover. She lost the potential of a new home. No. No, she can still save them, save those working with Honerva. Right? Voltron can. They have the power to save them. They were the Defenders of the Universe, defenders of everyone. It just hasn't clicked in her head yet that the title includes protecting Alteans and Galrans, too. The very idea that her Alteans would be so easily swayed to the dark side left her gritting her teeth in anger.

“What did you think would happen after you killed my husband? Did you honestly believe for a second that peace will suddenly wash over the 10,000 years of slavery and everyone will be saved?”

Allura narrowed her eyes. Why should she believe some Galra nobody? You could be lying to her, to them, just like Lotor.

Before she was able to argue against you once more, you raised a hand to silence her. Now, you switched your somber gaze to the humans.

“New Altea was not the only one that fell. Earth has been enslaved by Sendak and the Coalition has gone underground with the Blades of Marmora,” your eyes fell to the ground after hearing the surprised gasps from them, “I’m sorry. I...couldn’t save everyone.”

“Shay? What about Shay? And the Balmera?”

“My father is - no, that can't be. The Olkaris? Are they - is Matt okay? Is my brother safe?”

“Puigians? Taujerians? The Arusians?”

The only answer they received was a shake of your head, “I saved who I could. Gave them refuge on a planet far from anyone's reach.”

“Where? We must gather our forces and keep fighting,” Allura boldly asked, “They need our protection now more than ever.”

“I can’t disclose their location to any of you.”

“You have to tell us, they need to know Voltron has returned - ”

“For their safety, I can and will deny you that information. The universe is not safe enough for them. Their numbers are small and if you understand how the military works in the Galra Empire, you would know that their armed forces are severely limited,” you sent her a look of disapproval, “Paladins, you all seem to be missing the bigger picture here. Lotor needs to be back on the throne to reunite the Empire. Innocent lives will only keep dying as long as warlords like Sendak are free to raze any planet they want to supply their fleet.”

“I will not give Zarkon’s son that power again,” Allura flicked her hateful gaze to Atlas, knowing full well that her threat extended to Zarkon’s grandson as well.

He seethed back at her with his own venomous glare, frowning at this Altean lady his father spoke so highly of.

“...Ezor, take Atlas and wait outside,” the command was laced with hidden contempt, murderous contempt, “Now. Clearly, King Alfor didn’t raise his daughter with proper mannerisms.”

They left at your order, but Atlas’ spite kept brewing deep in his chest. Right when the door closed behind you, the air became chilly with your piercing, judgmental glare aimed at the princess. It was Shiro who sensed it first, sensed that Allura’s words once again got the best of her in times of stress. Keeping a leveled head was not what the heart of Voltron does.

He pushed off the wall, catching your attention, “Empress, I apologize for the misunderstanding - “

“Don’t fucking protect her.”

Shiro recoiled and shut his mouth, all of them did. Not daring to speak out of place when their lives were on the line, when that demand not only spoke of power, but of experience.

“She insulted Lotor and my son in front of me. Don't you dare fucking protect her. Wake up, princess. If you want that title, you better start acting like you were raised to be one,” the words cut deep and you knew how to use your voice to do the right amount of damage, courtesy of Lotor, “Because from what I’ve seen and what generosity I have extended to you and your allies, you are nothing but a sheltered brat with a gun daddy gave you.”

All forms of decorum dropped because, deep down, you weren’t raised in royalty. You weren't raised in the courts or taught the same things Lotor did as a child. You were treated less than average because of the circumstances you were born in. But that was then and now, now you had no reason to take the same bullshit treatment from other people, especially another royal who couldn’t see past the surface of your skin.

“Lotor is not Zarkon. And that tyrant is not Atlas’ grandfather. Do not ever say such a wretched thing about my family again,” you warned without an ounce of regret, “It would help you and your friends in the long run if you can get that through your pretty little head. You should be ashamed of yourself, ashamed of how you speak to me.”

Not as an Empress, but as another person pushing through this war.

This time, it was Coran who came to the princess’ defense, her stunned silence greatly worrying the family adviser. And, he won't lie, the insult you threw about her own upbringing in the court? It rubbed him the wrong way completely. Perhaps she was misguided, but that’s why he was here to help her along the way. Allura was still growing, learning. She was allowed to make mistakes.

“Your Highness, we don’t want any trouble. We want the same goal: universal safety. Surely there is a way to settle this peacefully?”

“That time has come and gone. It’s obvious she sees Lotor as nothing more than an evil monster and, by relation, me as well. Isn’t that right, Allura?” you placed your hand on your belly, feeling a little weak from all these complications, “Your racist views are not the first to be spat in my face. And you all let her get away with this close-minded luxury.”

Now, when you brought up the others in her shame, she finally found the courage to argue back, “The Galra destroyed my home. You have no idea what it was like, knowing everything you grew up with was gone! My mother, my father - “

“Shut up!”

Your voice held an immeasurable amount of sadness, of fury, half towards them and half towards the already deceased Zarkon.

“Zarkon destroyed your home! Zarkon destroyed mine! Zarkon tore families apart for over 10,000 years!” you scolded, not as a mother, but as that angry and scared and isolated person fleeing from being hunted, “It’s time you realize that you were not the only one personally attacked by him. Living through that is not something I plan on going through again, not for me and not for my children. But based on your actions, all of your actions, you are closely following his footsteps.”

Are they going to let Atlas and his sister be ripped apart from their father? Would they condemn Lotor’s family because of the actions of another? Did Allura truly find every life valuable?

That was what did it. Allura bit her bottom lip, shame choking her throat. It was bad enough that this was happening in front of her allies, where she was supposed to be the strong one, the one raised with leadership, but your words were impossible to push out. She couldn't forgive Zarkon. Couldn’t forgive the Galra. It was already too ingrained in her soul. Forgiveness was never an option and she knew this would be her downfall.

“How dare you compare her to him. Allura has done nothing but take down Zarkon from his reign on the throne,” Lance yelled back, “Or did you forget that he destroyed other planets, too?”

“And what was your plan after that, huh? What did you plan on doing for the displaced slaves? The Galra who suffered under his rule as well? Or would you have had them all killed?” you pressured them to answer, dared them to speak what was truly in their hearts, “Would Voltron have slaughtered every Galra they come across because they were associated with Zarkon?”

Krolia stepped in besides her son, knowing the topic of race was getting to the both of them, “That’s not how this works. We would’ve peacefully dismantled the Empire’s regime with as little deaths as possible. The princess trusted the Blades, there’s no reason she would not extend that trust to the innocent Galra.”

“I beg to differ,” you scoffed, “You think you’re safe?”

Krolia faced you, this time as a mother, as a Galran mother protecting her own family.

“You think because you side with them that you would be exempt from suspicion? No. No, I know how the Blades work and I know that after the Empire would’ve been wiped out, your clan would be next. It doesn't take much to pin the stereotypes of the few on the individual. You’d be a downright fool to think otherwise. As long as you have purple skin, you are a potential threat and a target in her eyes.”

“That’s not true!”

“Isn’t it? Then tell me right now, if I looked like her,” you nodded to Romelle, “Would you have treated me and my son with your idiotic hostility?”

This was too much for you. You were weak standing up for so long, talking for so long, stressing for so long. You went through childbirth once without Lotor, you will not do it again. Not without your husband to witness the first cries of his second offspring. For him to hold and cherish and protect. You brought a hand up to rub at the temples of your crown, trying to soothe the headache forming there. You wanted to keep your own views out of this, out of everything that happened in your life and in Lotor’s, but now those views were being forced upon Atlas because of a princess who couldn't control her tongue.

And you knew damn well Atlas had his own misguided opinions when it came to the Galra, to Zarkon, to Alteans, and now, to Voltron.

“Don’t spread your hatred to my son. He already sees Voltron as the enemy, already knows the prejudices that comes with being part Galran,” and, oh, it hurt to speak those words out loud, “I don't care about your views. Any of your views. Whether you agree with me or not is none of my concern. Right now, you are going to prove that you truly, honestly, want that title of Defenders of the Universe by bringing back my husband.”

“We told you, he’s dead. He couldn't have possibly survived in the Rift.”

“He’s alive. I know it,” but did you really? “I leave you with this option to save the future. The Paladins can depart when they are ready, when they all have a clear, unbiased goal in mind.”

Yes. Yes, you were looking at Allura specifically, but you knew your last sentence extended to each and every one of them.

“I would like say this reminder: I am not here to harm any of you, but if you attack my ship and endanger my son, I will not show mercy a second time.”

“Wait...wait, you’re letting us go?” Hunk’s relieved tone mirrored many of the others, “Just like that? No torture, no pain, no nothing? That’s…”

“No. I am letting the Paladins go. Everyone else stays with me,” your eyes drifted over to Shiro, Coran, Krolia, and even Romelle, “We have some political issues to discuss. Unless this is settled, I can not protect you against the laws of the Galra Empire. Not even Voltron is above justice.”

You turned towards the door and glanced once more over your shoulder, taking note of Allura’s tear-streaked face. Oddly enough, with how much Lotor embellished her, put her on a pedestal as the one who can supply endless quintessence to the dying worlds, you truly saw her as nothing more than a pitiful girl who was thrown into a war unprepared. Sadly, she wasn’t the only one. Sadly, she made all the wrong choices.

“And frankly, if you don't ensure Lotor’s return, I am not against the execution of the Emperor’s assassins.”

Swords clashed as Atlas parried against his father’s swing. The broadsword took both of his hands to hold since it was much too big for him now. That wouldn’t hinder him from his lessons, though. His training was important, both for survival and for protecting you should the time come. Atlas had big shoes to fill and he was going to do it right. With a struggling grunt, he used his smaller body to his advantage and slid under Lotor’s spread legs, surprising him for a split second.

That split second was all it took for Atlas to knock his father down onto his front and pull out the moon blade from his sheath. He held it precariously close to his neck, claiming victory over this sparring session.

“Very good, son, very good. Always use everything you have to turn the tide of the battle,” he spoke, smiling proudly despite the sharp knife pressing against his throat, “You are getting stronger every day, warrior.”

Atlas released his Papa, letting him rise to his feet and turn to face his opponent. His approving smile, the matching armor, even the way he clasped his hand in pride all felt real. But he wasn't actually here. Artificial intelligence isn’t a replacement for the actual thing and maybe that thought sitting in the back of Atlas’ mind made him spiteful. Upset. He avoided looking up at Lotor and instead kept his solemn gaze glued to the floor.

The hologram frowned at the despondent expression, “What is wrong, little star?”

Little star. It hurt his chest hearing that since it felt too real when his logical mind told him that, no, that light standing before him wasn’t his father. He was fake. Uploaded to the computer main system just in case something happened to him. And now, that something happened, and Atlas realizes he hates this. He hates sparring with this...this illusion.

He hated it because he felt alone again. Like those days he would ask “Mama, where is Papa?” on Planet Falerd. Like those times he would watch other children run to their father’s open arms with happiness and child-like glee. Like those painful nights he would hear his own mother, hear you, sobbing and whispering for Lotor in grief. Atlas likes to think he knew how to read his own feelings for someone his age, knew he could control himself better than anyone else.

It was something he looked up to about his Papa. But right now, when that illusion knelt down and studied him with concern and worry, Atlas finds that he hates him. Not only did Lotor hurt him by disappearing to fuck knows where, he hurt you. Again. He left his family alone, left them to run and hide like before. Except, this time, this time Atlas wouldn’t let you do it. This time, he wanted his father to be held responsible, whether he vanished of his own free will or not.

“My son, please. Speak to me, I am here for you.”

“But you’re not, are you?” he muttered, “Not really. You’re gone.”

“Oh...Atlas, come here.”

The teen sat cross-legged on the floor as the hologram took his spot behind him, caging his body with a false sense of security. The scenery around them changed then, white powdery snow and tall trees hibernating all around. He remembers this. That cold place, the tree where he got himself stuck at the way top. Atlas recalls the fear he had in his tiny body back then. He recalls the relief he felt when Lotor had carefully carried him down.

He sniffled, the tough warrior facade cracking with every tear threatening to spill down his cheek, “You said you wanted to stay here, with us. With me and Mama. And now you’re gone. You’re such a liar, Papa…I hate you. I hate you so much.”

The hologram stayed silent at those words, those three little words he knew he deserved. This AI was no replacement for a real father. Atlas deserved to hate him for what has transpired these past three years. Three years that the real Lotor, wherever he may be, will never get back. Mistakes were made and, just like before, nothing would excuse a father for leaving his family when they needed him the most.

“Papa is coming back,” Lotor encouraged, “He will always come back for you and your mother.”

“You don't have to lie to me. I know you’re...you’re…”

Dead.

The AI sighed, recognizing where this depression was stemming from, for he himself had gone through it several times before. But this was not about him, this was about Atlas, and if there is anything he can do to raise his son in a life better than his own, then he would do it. Lotor would use his knowledge, his experience with that dark shadow to guide his child to the light.

“Atlas, show me the blade.”

He did as told and still, to this very day, it was strongly glowing. Not once since he had it, since Lotor found them on Planet Falerd, has it flickered or died out. Lethal, sharp, and threatening like any expertly crafted weapon. But to Atlas, it was more than a weapon. It was proof. Evidence that his father was alive somewhere out there. But there was that doubt scratching the back of his mind. Doubt that, well, maybe this was just some glowing chemical that never died out.

“What do you see?”

“It’s glowing…” “And what does that tell you, son?”

“Papa, it’s just a dagger - “

“What does the dagger tell you?”

Atlas sighed, heart heavy and despising all of this. Why did his father always have to be difficult?

“What does the quintessence tell you, Atlas?” Lotor asked once more, “What did I tell you about the quintessence in there?”

“That it’s connected to your life and your love for Mama…”

“Not just your Mama, Atlas. For you, too. For my family.”

Atlas sniffled again, bringing the tip of his cloak up to wipe at his wet tears.

“I love you, Atlas. You and your mother. I found my way to the both of you once, I can do it again. I can do it as many times as needed,  I promise you that. I will be coming back,” Lotor’s voice held that same conviction in them when he agreed to be his father so long ago, “And when I return, you can hate me as much as you want. You can yell and fight and ignore me. Anything for your forgiveness, my son.”

That’s when Atlas realized something. Yes, yes, he does hate his father, but more importantly, he wanted him back in his life. He wanted to be a family again. Was he spoiled to desperately want that small sense of comfort? Was it okay to be angry when it was taken away from him? Was all of this...was it fair for him?

The boy turned around and hugged Lotor, burying his face in his neck and silently cried. He was scared of being alone again. He was scared of his father truly being gone from existence. He was scared of growing up without him. Atlas was just a kid. He wasn’t ready to be anything more than that right now.

“Just come home alive, Papa.”

Lotor hooded his eyes sadly at his trembling son then squeezed him back, hugging him with all the emotions an AI could possibly express.

“I promise, Atlas. I promise.”

[nedfuckindiscretionchicanejr]

I think Aubrey might be an avatar/aspect of Sylvain

I mentioned this idea a while ago in a discord server, but now that we have confirmation that the Heart took some of Aubrey’s life force, and I’ve seen a few other people express similar ideas (eg. this post and a PM sent to me by @devslashuser about Aubrey sacrificing herself to replace Sylvain), I feel like I should post it here as well.

First of all, very unpopular and possibly controversial opinion: I think the Flamebright pendant is a red herring. I’ve been saying this since the beginning.

The first mention of the pendant is possibly Clint’s suggestion in the setup episode that there is something in the Cryptonomica that triggers Aubrey’s powers, which is immediately shot down by Griffin because he already knows what triggers Aubrey’s powers. The first real mention of it is when Aubrey brings it up to Mama in episode 4. So it seems like this object was a cool idea the players had, and not necessarily something the DM wrote into the story.

Also (and this seems really significant to me, though I realize it may not be in reality), we are constantly reminded that the Heart of Sylvain is orange. Barclay’s and Indrid’s orange crystal pendants seem to very deliberately be referencing the Heart. When Aubrey touched the Heart, one of her eyes turned orange. We saw in episode 20 that the Heart is losing its magic and is turning from orange to cloudy gray. The colour orange is very important and strongly associated with Sylvan magic. And the Flambright Pendant is not orange.

[Start ID. A screencap of the tazcripts transcript for episode 5, which reads:

there’s a few other things in there, too, there’s probably a couple passports and driver’s licenses with different names but Ned’s picture on it? Some watches, a set of pearl earrings, a few rings, and beneath it all, I think we, the audience, just, like, catch a glint of it for, like, a second as the two of you walk by, there’s a pendant on a silver chain, set with a large, bright red stone. And you walk

The words “bright red” are highlighted. End ID.]

[Start ID. A screencap of the tazscripts transcript for episode 11, which reads:

Griffin: And she unclasps the necklace that she's wearing, and a beam of moonlight catches it perfectly refracting red light back up onto your face.

The words “red light” are highlighted. End ID.]

Now, on to the theory. (This is heavily inspired by Yue from AtLA and Simon from Carry On, so if you know those stories you probably already know where I'm going with this.)

Heathcliff describes Aubrey as being “full of Sylvaine’s power” when he meets her in episode 9. And we know that she is absurdly powerful. Janelle says,

[Start ID. a screencap of the tazscripts transcript for episode 16, which reads:

Our magic is so much more difficult. Which may be frustrating for you to hear, but there are those who train for decades, centuries, even, Aubrey, and can’t produce even more than a candle flame. What you have done so quickly, this magic that comes as second nature to you, it is unique among any creature who has ever walked the— either of our planets before you.

End ID.]

So, for some unknown reason, Aubrey has nearly unlimited access to magic that normally takes centuries to tap into at all.

She even says earlier in that conversation that magic is reflexive for her - it doesn’t feel like asking the world to change, as Janelle describes, it just feels like she’s reacting naturally to what’s happening. I may be reading too much into some improvised lines, but it sounds to me that Aubrey has a much more direct connection to magic than other people do.

And let’s talk very briefly about osmosis. When you have a semipermeable membrane separating two solutions, and one of those solutions has a higher concentration of some molecule, those molecules will tend to move through the membrane from the more concentrated side to the less concentrated side, until the two concentrations are equal.

We know that magic/life energy/whatever can pass somewhat freely, in both directions, between the Heart of Sylvain and a person touching it. I think it makes intuitive sense that there is more energy in the crystal than in a Sylph’s body, hence why energy flows from the crystal into them when they touch it. But when Aubrey touched it, energy flowed from her into the crystal. You could interpret that to mean that Aubrey has more energy (or at least a higher concentration of it, if we stick to the osmosis metaphor) than the Heart of Sylvain does. And it has enough energy to sustain the planet for another year.

All of this to say, Aubrey has way more magical energy in her than should be possible. That’s the first piece of evidence for this theory. The second is her connection to Alexandra.

It’s mentioned a few times that the Interpreter’s job is to listen to and, well interpret the will of Sylvain. We don’t know if the connection goes both ways, if Sylvain can hear the Interpreter’s thoughts as well. I’m assuming that this is the case. Because, even if some other people’s theories are right and Aubrey is another Interpreter, why would that mean she could hear Alexandra’s thoughts? Interpreters, as far as we know, don’t have telepathy beyond their ability to communicate with the planet/goddess/whatever that they interpret for.

But if Aubrey is Sylvain, or an aspect of Sylvain, then it makes sense that she should have a psychic connection to Alexandra. And I think it would explain, too, why her magic is so powerful and comes so naturally to her.

Edit: I meant to include the fact that Thacker/The Quell spoke to her, but I forgot to and this post reminded me. Hard agree that that is another point in favour of this theory. 

I don't know why Aubrey, instead of someone else. I don’t know if Aubrey is the first incarnation or if Sylvain has been reincarnated in several people over the last few centuries. I don’t know if there is actually some connection with Aubrey's mom and the Flamebright Pendant.

That said, here’s where I think this is going: Aubrey is going to have to make a sacrifice to bring life back to the planet Sylvain.

Magic always has a price, and magic this powerful will surely have a great price. I don’t know if that will mean giving up her body and identity and becoming the goddess Sylvain, or if it will mean giving up her magic (which would bring a nice parallel with Duck’s arc), or something else I haven’t thought of. At any rate, I can’t imagine that Aubrey will get to keep everything she has now without giving anything up.

[korora12]

Ladybug Week Day 6: Secrets

It had been a year since Team RWBY and their allies had gathered the artifacts, killed Salem, and basically saved the world. And yet they couldn’t tell anyone. Newscasters around the world speculated about why Grimm populations had suddenly begun declining, many assuming it was just the calm before another storm. Blake wanted to tell them the truth, to let everyone know it was over and that no one was in control of the Grimm anymore. But the very idea that someone even could be in charge of the Grimm was the talk of conspiracy theorists.

Sometimes Blake felt like her entire life was nothing but a string of one giant secret after another. From secret missions with the White Fang to hiding her history and heritage while at Beacon, to the war against Salem and the Grimm. Hell, she and Ruby had kept their relationship secret for months after they started dating because they weren’t sure how to tell their teammates. And now Team RWBY shared a two-bedroom apartment in downtown Vale and every day Blake walked past thousands of strangers and couldn’t tell any of them that the world was a better, safer place.

When the weight and stress of everything got to be too much, she’d run away for a little bit and visit family or some of the various friends she’d made that were scattered across the world.

Blake had just returned from one such trip, visiting Sun and Neptune in Mistral, and had found the apartment completely empty upon her return. That was disappointing, but not completely unusual, and it gave her time to unpack in peace before regaling her girlfriend and teammates with her stories.

Everything was back where it belonged and Blake was rifling through the fridge in search of a snack when she heard the front door open. Carton of milk still in hand, she turned around the corner to see Ruby with her cloak removed and bundled up in her arms.

“Hey Ruby, I’m back,” she said.

Ruby jumped about a foot in the air. “Blake! I thought you weren’t getting back until tomorrow morning!”

“Travel plans got moved up to avoid a storm.”

Ruby shifted her bundled cloak so she was holding it behind her back. “You should’ve texted. I would’ve come picked you up.”

Blake shifted to try and get a better look behind her girlfriend. “I wanted to surprise you guys. Where’re Yang and Weiss?”

Ruby slowly inched sidewards, her front to Blake and her back to the wall. “They took a mission in northern Forever Fall, but they’ll be back tonight.”

Blake hummed a neutral response. “And what do you have in your arms?”

Ruby froze. “What, this? My cloak got muddy, so I thought I’d take it off and throw it in the laundry. That’s all!”

The bundle meowed.

Blake raised an eyebrow in response and let the following silence weigh until Ruby finally caved. “Okay, fine,” she said, bringing her cloak around and almost shoving it in Blake’s face. There, completely swathed in red fabric, was the tiniest black and white kitten Blake had ever seen. “I found him in a box by the side of the road. He’s so tiny, and no one was taking him, and it’s supposed to rain tonight, and I couldn’t just leave him there.”

He was cute, Blake couldn’t deny that. And yet… “Ruby, you know we’re not allowed to have pets in this apartment. We can’t keep him.”

“It’s only for a few days, until I can find someone else to take him in.” She lowered the feline just enough so that Blake could see her pouting face. “Please.”

Blake sighed and relented, not able to refuse two adorable faces. “He’ll have to stay in our room. You know how Weiss gets around small animals; if she sees him we’ll end up keeping him forever.”

Ruby practically leapt at her in joy, gently squishing the mewling kitten between them as she hugged her. “Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” And, with a flurry of rose petals, Ruby grabbed the milk from Blake’s hands, a bowl from the cabinets, and disappeared into their shared room.

Blake followed at a more restrained speed. She watched from the doorway as Ruby gently placed the kitten on the ground in front of a bowl of milk and unwrapped him. “Should we give him a name?” Ruby asked.

“If you do, it’ll make it harder to give him up later,” Blake responded, not directly saying no because she already had a pretty good idea how this situation was going to turn out.

After closing the door to keep the new tenant contained, Blake laid down on the bed, turning so she could watch her girlfriend fuss over and pet the tiny kitten.

Thoughts churned gently in her head, returning to where they’d rested earlier. “Do you think we keep too many secrets?”

“What do you mean?” Ruby asked, finally turning her attention away from her new, temporary, and very thirsty pet.

“I feel like I could write a book about all the things I don’t tell people,” Blake said. “Is that any way to live your life?”

“Well,” Ruby said, giving the idea some thought, “while I wouldn’t advocate for Oscar levels of conspiracy, secrets are a part of life. Not everyone needs to know everything about you.” Ruby rose from where she sat and walked over to the bed. Blake rolled over in response so she was looking straight up at her girlfriend. “But you don’t have to keep anything from me. So,” Ruby fell forward, landing on top of, and across, Blake, “tell me everything.”

Blake thought quietly for a moment then said, “Canned anchovies are my least favorite fish.”

“What!” Ruby propped her head up on her arm so she could look her girlfriend in the eyes. “But you said you ate anchovies all the time growing up.”

“Those were fresh anchovies,” Blake said. “They didn’t taste nearly as strong as the stuff they sell in cans.”

“Oh man, guess that means no more anchovy pizzas. My turn!” Ruby hummed in thought. “I don’t really like the Achieve Men. Yang loves them, so I’ve always pretended to, but I actually think their music is really cheesy and pretentious.”

“You’re not wrong,” Blake agreed. “When I was four years old, I used to pretend to be a dog because it annoyed my mom. Then one day we were at a park and I was chasing some birds when someone’s Great Dane tried to start humping me.”

Ruby’s eyes widened. “That sounds traumatizing. No wonder you don’t like dogs.” Continuing on, she said, “Sometimes, if I forget to do laundry, or if I just can’t find any of my own, I wear a pair of your underwear without asking.”

Blake blushed at the mental image that brought to mind. “Really?”

Ruby nodded, a blush of her own starting to form.

Blake cleared her throat and forcefully wrested her mind away from such thoughts. “I really enjoyed our date at the aquarium last month, but I never want to go back there. I was constantly hungry the entire time.”

Ruby grinned. “Uncle Qrow used to make me mow the lawn with a garden scythe instead of a lawnmower.”

“I really enjoyed the movie adaptation of Lost Hunter. Yes, it was cheesy, had cheap special effects, and was very unfaithful to the book, but it was fun and I liked that it didn’t take itself too seriously.”

“I gave Whitley Schnee a wedgie last time I was in Atlas, but I used my semblance so no one would see me do it.”

“I wet the bed until I was five.”

Ruby turned and wiggled her way across the bed until she was curled up against Blake’s side. Quietly, sounding ashamed, she muttered, “When I was younger I wished I was an only child. Yang was great, but sometimes she tried too hard to be a mom and it got to be too much. Then this one time, I think I was ten years old, she was pushing me really hard about school and we fought. I yelled at her and ran, all the way to my mom’s grave. I told her everything, and said really nasty things about Yang. Like how I wished she’d died instead of mom.”

Blake pulled Ruby close and lightly kissed her forehead. “We all make mistakes and do things we later regret. Trust me, I’ve the queen of regretting mistakes.” She ran her hand through red locks. “Sometimes I wish I had an older brother. Yang is always worried about you, always trying to keep you safe. And Winter has her own life and problems, but she’s always been really supportive of Weiss. I made a lot of mistakes growing up, and I feel like if I had had someone looking out for me like that, my life might’ve gone a lot better.”

The two girls lay together quietly for a bit, holding each other and enjoying their mutual love and acceptance. Then Blake, not wanting to end on such a serious note, continued in a hushed voice. “I once went to a conspiracy forum online and told them the complete truth about Salem. They ended up laughing me off because my story had a happy ending, which meant it couldn’t be true.”

A mischievous grin lit up Ruby’s face as she leaned in close and whispered in Blake’s ear. “I fantasized about you every night you were gone this last week.”

Blake blushed and sputtered. “R-Ruby!”

Ruby chuckled softly, glad to have gotten a reaction from her ever-serious lover.

Blake turned her head away, letting herself be distracted by the kitten who had begun mewling and trying to climb up the side of the bed. She leaned over the side and picked him up. There was a moment where Blake realized just how small and helpless this creature was, so tiny that his entire torso fit in the palm of her hand. Letting the moment pass, she rolled back over so she was facing Ruby and placed the kitten on the bed between them.

“You want to know something that’s not a secret?” Ruby asked.

“What?” Blake asked.

“I love you,” Ruby said.

Blake smiled and let herself get lost in her love’s beautiful silver eyes. “You want to know something else that’s not a secret?”

“Hm?”

“I love you too.”

[mikotyzini]

Boundless - Ch. 5 (Mythological/Fantasy AU)

Introduction Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3  Chapter 4

Sighing into the mirror, Weiss reached up and removed her dangling, diamond earrings - which were far too heavy for her liking. After setting them down on the chest of drawers, she removed the sparkling tiara from atop her head and set it beside the earrings.  

It had been a long day, but it was finally over. Now the healing could begin.

The sound of footsteps approached her room, but stopped just outside the open door.  The person who owned the sound was far too polite to come any further without a formal acknowledgment, even though an open invitation had been granted several times.

Two soft knocks rapped on the doorframe, representing the polite request for recognition.

“Do come in, Glynda,” Weiss said, stepping to the side so that her view in the mirror now included the stern woman standing in the doorway.  

Removing a set of jeweled bracelets from around her wrist and pulling off a glittering ring that symbolized nothing more than wealth, Weiss set everything in front of the mirror before turning around as Glynda strode across the room.

“What is it?” Weiss asked, noticing the trademark furrowed brow her closest advisor was wearing.

“I wanted to say that I’m truly sorry for your loss, Your Majesty.”

When Glynda bowed her head, Weiss huffed in disbelief.

“Save your sympathy, Glynda,” she replied. “What are you sorry for?  That tyranny has ended?  That people will no longer be forced into suffering so that we may live in excess?”  Letting out another scoff, she shook her head.  “There’s no need for sorrow.  I’m glad he’s gone - we’re better off without him.”

“He was still your father…”

“Which only means I was closest to his ire,” Weiss pointed out, feeling not an ounce of sympathy for the miserable life that had finally ended.  “Truthfully, Glynda, I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine.  I’m looking forward to making changes for the better.”

Only after studying Weiss closely did Glynda accept the words, giving a curt nod that would be the end of the matter for good.

“What will you do first?” Glynda asked, back to business now that the emotional checkup was complete.

“There’s much to be done - much that needs to be changed for the better.  I’ll need your help correcting his mistakes, but first...reach out to the Kingdom of Vale - I’d like to arrange a meeting as soon as possible.”

“Vale?” Glynda asked, her eyes widening in surprise. “But -”

“I want to discuss a truce.  It’s time to negotiate an end to this pointless war.”

For a long time, Glynda stared - trying to read the intent behind Weiss’ words.  Finding that Weiss was speaking the truth, Glynda nodded again.

“When would you like to leave, Your Majesty?”

“Right away.  Tomorrow, if it can be arranged.”

“We won’t be able to send a messenger there and back in time -”

“Then I’ll set out without their response,” Weiss replied, knowing that Glynda wouldn’t enjoy that idea in the slightest. “I feel strongly that they’ll want an end to this, as well.  There’s no point in risking further bloodshed due to logistics.”

Again, that nod - which meant Glynda would do as instructed even if her pursed lips and furrowed brow gave away her true feelings on the situation.

“I’ll get started on that right away,” she said, backing towards the exit of the room, practically buzzing with restless energy now that she had multiple objectives to accomplish.  “Expect to leave tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll be ready.”

Without another word, Glynda turned and disappeared through the door, making sure to close it on her way out.  

Left in solitude, Weiss walked away from the extravagant jewelry and sat on the end of her bed to think about recent events and what her future might hold.  And - for the first time in what felt like ages - she smiled.  

She’d wanted to visit Vale for years, but hadn’t found an opportunity that wouldn’t result in her father having her hunted down and executed as a traitor.  Even if she managed to make it - and even if Vale was willing to provide her sanctuary - he would have no qualms sending legions of assassins after her or Ruby for the rest of their lives.

Now that he was gone, Weiss could finally go - she could find Ruby and hopefully win her heart.

That night as she got ready for sleep and mentally prepared for the following day, she felt lighter than she had since she was a child - maybe even lighter, as during her younger years she’d been ruthlessly aware of the expectations placed upon her.

There were days she never expected to make it this far.  There were days she thought her life would be cut short - another victim of her father’s uncontrollable frost and anger.  The only thing that helped her through was Ruby.  Ever since her eighteenth birthday, Weiss knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel.  One day, her father would be gone and, when that happened, she could find Ruby.  

She’d dreamed of that moment for so long...and she would dream of it again tonight, on the eve of setting out in search of her happily ever after.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt again…”

Coming back to the table in the midst of a restaurant, Weiss focused on Ruby and smiled.  “It’s ok,” she said, her attempt at reassurance doing nothing to ease the deep crease of concern in Ruby’s brow.

“It sounds like your dad was a bit of a...jerk?”

Weiss sighed at the question and sadly shook her head.

“He was extremely powerful and extremely volatile. You never knew what would send him into a rage, and you never knew what he might do when that happened.”

“That sounds really scary.”

“It was,” she answered honestly.  “But this was a different world, Ruby.  It was a more dangerous world, and the people reflected that.”

When Ruby bit her lip, Weiss added, “And we made it through just fine.”

Finally appearing somewhat relieved, Ruby smiled again.

“But your dad now…?”

“Is much nicer,” Weiss answered with a smile that removed the rest of Ruby’s worries.  “He’s driven and almost solely focused on work, but he tends to grow frustrated rather than angry - a much better situation, in my opinion.”

Comforted by the knowledge, Ruby nodded and waved a hand in apology.

“Sorry, I just wanted to know,” she said.  “I’m excited to hear what happens next!”

Ruby’s concern over Weiss’ father was heartwarming, so much so that Weiss felt the incredible urge to give Ruby a kiss for being so caring.  That would have to come later though.  There were more stories to tell first...

The next morning was bright and sunny, but not warm.  Atlas was hardly ever warm anymore, but the chill bothered Weiss very little as she was led towards the escort for her trip to Vale.  Multiple carriages lined the front of the palace steps - some carrying advisors and negotiators while others carried various gifts of treasure to be used as an offer of peace.  The largest of these carriages was reserved for her, built to provide as much comfort as possible over what would only be a few day trip.  

The legion of soldiers accompanying the carriages was large, numbering near a thousand men and women clad in extravagant silver armor.  It was surely more than necessary, but Weiss understood Glynda’s precaution. Relations with Vale had soured long ago thanks to her father’s demands of fealty.  Hopefully, that would change soon.

Approaching the caravan while flanked by her most loyal guards, Weiss examined the soldiers set to accompany her.  They stood in crisp, straight lines with their weapons at their sides, while those on horseback sat rigid in their saddles. Each had plumes of icy breath billowing from their lips - the mark of Atlas and its frigid warriors.  These men and women proudly displayed their element for her inspection, each of them assuring her through sight that they were capable of protecting her on this journey.

She wished that the display of force was unnecessary, but until she spoke to Ruby there was always a possibility they would be attacked on sight.

Satisfied with what she saw in front of her, Weiss called upon the ice running through her veins - the constant cold that never went away.  The cold deepened, approaching what would be a painful freeze if she wasn’t used to the feeling by now.  Drawing out this power and projecting it in front of her, she summoned ice to do her bidding - pulling shards into the loose shape of a towering soldier that dwarfed them all.

The figure moved like a swarm of crystals, coalescing and breaking apart as he walked to the front of the caravan while Weiss was escorted to her carriage.  Once she was situated inside, she commanded the figure to point the way with his giant sword, spurring the soldiers to motion before she scattered the crystals by the wayside.

With the journey underway, she leaned against the window and sighed.  She loathed the posturing, but it was the way of life in this realm - a subtle reminder to those serving her that, while they may wield some semblance of power, it was her family that controlled the ice within them.

Their voyage would take several days, with most of the delay caused by the slow progress leaving Atlas.  High mountains and snowy corridors at the edges of the kingdom were a boon as protection from invaders, but treacherous when it came to traveling between kingdoms - especially when traveling in such a large group. Of course, with the war going on, very little traveling was happening anyway.

Settled in for the long road ahead, she had plenty of time to think about what she wanted to say, and what response she might receive.  She already knew she needed a way to calm Yang’s fire - the older sister being notoriously hotheaded and fueled by flames.  But what would Ruby be like?  How had this world shaped her?  Weiss was excited and anxious to find out.

The first two days of travel were uneventful and long, but a commotion outside the carriage in the early hours of the third morning disrupted Weiss’ breakfast.  

As she went to the window to see what was happening, but the door to the carriage abruptly opened and one of her elite guard jumped inside.  He shut the door behind him as the windows were shuttered and locked from the outside.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her heart beating fast as fear and confusion flooded through her.

“Someone slipped into camp,” he explained, on high alert while listening to the shouts and motion outside the walls.  Weiss understood his caution.  They’d left Atlas and entered the no-mans-land between Atlas and Vale - The Badlands, as it was called.  In this place, they were susceptible to attacks or assassins.  Her family didn’t have the most highly regarded name, after all.

After a few minutes spent waiting on pins and needles, the commotion died down, and the windows opened back up.

“Sir,” someone called, knocking in a very specific pattern on the door.  When the guard immediately relaxed, Weiss did too, and she followed him out the door to see what was going on.

“She claims to be a thief, Sir,” one of the soldiers explained as the lead guard approached him.

“Your Majesty, I advise you stand back,” the lead guard said, pointing to a spot on the ground before continuing forward. Weiss didn’t listen to him - because she didn’t have to - and several guards moved to her side as protection while she walked towards the source of the uproar.

As soon as a split in the crowd opened up, allowing her clear view of their new prisoner, Weiss’ heart sped up in surprise.

Kneeling on the ground, surrounded by more soldiers than necessary, was Blake.  She was immobilized - her wrists and ankles bound with cuffs of ice - but she still held her head high.

This was the Blake that Weiss knew - and that Blake would never be foolish enough to attempt stealing from such a heavily-guarded caravan.  

“Who sent you?” one of the guards demanded, glaring down at her while she refused to meet his eyes.

“No one.”

Thinking the answer was a lie, the guard raised one hand in the air, prepared to level it across Blake’s face.

“Stop!” Weiss ordered, encasing the man’s arm in a large block of ice.  He yelped in shock when he was dragged to the ground by the dead weight, but she paid him no mind while shoving through the soldiers and kneeling in front of Blake.

Their proximity made every guard nervous, causing them to inch forward in fear, but Weiss looked into Blake’s eyes knowing that the girl would never hurt her - even if that had been Blake’s initial intent.

“Blake?” Weiss asked quietly, watching confusion swirl in Blake’s eyes at the sound of her name.  

“How do you -” she began to ask, but Weiss smiled.

“You have impeccable timing, don’t you?” she said before standing.  With a small glance, she cast away the ice binding Blake’s arms and legs and freed the guard of his block of a hand.  

“Has she been searched?” Weiss asked, finding it prudent to take a little precaution.  Knowing Blake, there was a high probability that she’d allowed herself to be caught for a reason - which meant she might very well be an assassin, after all.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Good.”  Looking down, Weiss extended a hand to help Blake to her feet.  “I’m going to need your help with something,” Weiss explained. “Please come with me.”

Ignoring Weiss’ hand, Blake stood on her own.

“What could you possibly need my help with?” she asked, disbelief and incredulity seeping into her tone.  Something about this situation wasn’t playing out as she expected, which was good.  Weiss needed to keep Blake curious - that was the only way she would put her original plan on hold.

“You’ll see soon,” Weiss replied, raising a brow at the idea Blake thought she was in a position to decline the request.  “I think you’ll find it preferable to your other options.”  After nodding towards the soldiers, Weiss waved towards her carriage and took a step in that direction.  The silent invitation took everyone by surprise, but Blake accepted it with narrowed eyes and a hesitant nod.

While Blake walked towards the carriage, Weiss held onto a higher sense of caution.  She knew Blake was crafty in ways others were not.  But Weiss wasn’t defenseless, and she’d been smart enough to hide the depths of her powers from her father and anyone else.

It was still a risk, but a calculated one.

“Your Majesty,” the lead guard said, reaching out to stop her before she followed Blake into the carriage.  Blake paused with one foot on the lower step, turning around and watching the interaction closely.  

The guard’s eyes were fearful - approaching panic - as he glanced at Blake and then looked down at Weiss.  “I strongly advise you not to trust her -”

“I’ll leave the window open,” Weiss replied, attempting to allay his fears.  “If I need your help, you’ll know.”

He wanted to disagree, but knew that he shouldn’t. Instead, he nodded and straightened his posture.

“I’ll be right outside.”  After giving Blake one last look, he rallied the soldiers back in order so they could resume their journey.  Blake looked at Weiss for direction and stepped into the carriage when Weiss gestured that way.

When Blake took the seat on the far wall of the cabin, in plain view, Weiss wasted no time following.  The door shut behind her, and the windows were opened on both sides for the anxious guards outside.  Thankfully, the weather here wasn’t nearly as frigid as in Atlas, and provided a nice, cool breeze that swept across them.

Sitting down opposite of Blake, Weiss couldn’t help but smile at the surly girl across from her.  If she had to guess, Blake’s life had probably been difficult up to this point, but that would change now.  Soon, the four of them would be together once again.

But first...silence.  Blake said nothing, and Weiss said nothing as the carriage spurred to motion once more.  It was normally like this between the two of them, but Blake’s curiosity always won out in the end.

“Where are we going?” she finally asked, glancing out the window before looking at Weiss.

“Vale.”

“Vale?  Why would you go to Vale?”

“Your Majesty!”

Hearing the voice, Weiss left the question unanswered as she looked out the window and found a man on horseback riding up beside them. Based on his more casual clothes, he wasn’t a soldier.  He was a messenger - the one Glynda sent ahead to Vale.

“Your Majesty!” he called out again, looking through the window and spotting her.  “I bring news from the high court in Vale!” he said, his breathing labored from what had likely been a long, sleepless journey.

“What is it?” Weiss asked, knowing that this was the first moment of truth.  If the response was bad…

“The sister queens agreed to meet upon your arrival to discuss a truce!” the messenger said with a smile.  “They await your presence and wish you safe travels into Vale!”

Sighing in relief, Weiss gave the man a nod of appreciation.  “Thank you for that message,” she said.  “Please return to Atlas and let Glynda know.”

Nodding, the man spurred his horse off for the final leg of his journey.  Upon receiving the good news, Weiss sat back in her seat and smiled.  If Ruby and Yang agreed to a meeting, maybe relations weren’t as poor as they seemed.  Maybe there was hope that a valuable alliance could be formed.

“You’re negotiating a truce?”

The question brought Weiss out of her thoughts and back to the carriage, where Blake was staring at her - clearly surprised by the information.

“I’m going to try,” Weiss answered, watching Blake’s eyes widen in response.  “This isn’t my war,” she added.  “And I have no desire to keep fighting it.”

Knowing what she did about Blake, the words would make an impact.  At the very least, Blake would be willing to stay if she thought that doing so would help the greater good.

“You want to end the war,” Blake repeated, sounding very much like she didn’t want to believe the statement.

“Yes, I do.”

After saying the words, Weiss watched Blake’s demeanor change - from pent-up anxiety to confused and befuddled...relief.

“If Vale agrees...what will you do next?”

“Hopefully, fix what my father destroyed.  Rebuild Atlas.”  

“What about The Badlands?”

In one question, Blake laid down her cards for all to see.  That was the cause she’d attached herself to this time. That was what drove her forward, and what brought her into Weiss’ life.

“The Badlands also need healing, which I mean to help with...if they’ll allow it.”  Looking out the window and thinking about how ruined the world had become, Weiss sighed and shook her head.  “There’s so much work to be done…”  Pausing, she sent a glance at Blake.  “That’s one of the reasons I need your help.”

The Badlands had grown lawless as war ravaged the small towns and cities located there.  The citizens now operated under their own rules - or lack of them.  They wouldn’t take lightly to the kingdoms stepping back in, even if it was an attempt to help restore order.  But with an advocate...there might just be hope of healing the damage her father had caused.

“Why me?”

“You seem like someone they’ll listen to,” Weiss replied, shrugging as if she didn't understand Blake’s importance to this world. But, based on lives past, Blake was likely already a leader in this rouge area of society - earning respect by following her morality through thick and thin.  

“Do you have any ideas on how we can make things right?”

The question lit a spark in Blake’s eyes, saying without words that it was the right one to ask.  

“I have a few.”

“I’d like to hear them,” Weiss added, nodding once to encourage Blake to speak.

And speak she did - launching into a list of suggestions both detailed and ingenious - so much so that Weiss actually found a pen and paper to write them down while Blake spoke.  

For hours, the two of them discussed the state of the kingdoms, and what could be done to repair their way of life.  When Blake asked questions, Weiss answered honestly - even if that meant saying she didn’t know the answer.  But Blake appreciated the candor, and her walls were lowering by the time Vale came into view.

“Your Majesty,” one of the guards said, appearing by the window and pointing up ahead.  Following the direction, Weiss found herself staring at a sprawling metropolis hemmed in by towering walls that glowed red from the sunset.  The palace was easily viewable in the distance, rising above the rest of the city and glittering in opulence.

“Have you been to Vale before?” Weiss asked, her heart fluttering when she realized that Ruby was right there, tucked somewhere inside those walls.

“Not in a long time,” Blake answered, looking out the window before turning to Weiss.  “What about you?”

Shaking her head in response, Weiss stared out the window as their caravan stopped outside the city gates.  The soldiers up front conversed for several seconds before the gates opened and they were admitted inside, but with a large contingent of Vale soldiers joining them as they traveled through the city streets towards the palace.

Their grand entrance garnered the attention of everyone they passed - the citizens of Vale curious as to who was the cause of such a large procession.  Weiss’ attention was solely for the palace though, watching it grow larger as they neared it.

Her heart, which had remained quiet for so long, now loudly announced its presence - determined to control her actions as her moment of destiny quickly approached.  She had no idea what to expect inside the palace, but she expected Ruby...and that was enough for her hands to shake with nerves.

“I’d like you to come with me,” she said as the first of the carriages arrived in front of the palace doors.  Turning away from the window, she looked at Blake. “I’d like you to participate in our discussions as my advisor,” she elaborated.

The request took Blake by surprise, but she nodded in agreement.  Satisfied that she had one pseudo-ally with her, Weiss took a deep breath and turned towards the door as it was opened for her.

“Your Majesty,” the soldier said, bowing his head while holding one arm in the direction of the palace entrance.

Not showing any hesitation, Weiss left the carriage behind and stepped into the cool, Vale air.  It was nowhere near as cold as Atlas, which was a relief to the ice running through her veins.  But while her element warmed, her nerves tripled while following her elite guards through the towering entrance to the palace.  She glanced over her shoulder once, making sure Blake was close behind as they entered a grand foyer that was comparable to Atlas’ own palace in terms of grandeur.

Spotting a group of people standing up ahead, Weiss’ palms grew sweaty as they approached  - knowing that the moment was almost upon her.  As the opposing party neared, however, she realized she would have to wait a little longer, as the only person she recognized was tall, blonde, and wearing a smirk.

“The Ice Queen arrives,” Yang said, stopping several paces away from Weiss with a group of red-hued soldiers surrounding her.

In four words, Weiss knew this was going to be more difficult than she’d hoped, for a couple of reasons.  One, Yang was cockier than average, as evidenced by the way she folded both arms over her chest and smirked.  Two, Ruby was nowhere in sight.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Weiss replied as politely as possible before glancing around and finding nothing but soldiers and more soldiers.  “May I ask whether or not your sister will be joining us?”

“She’ll get here when she gets here,” Yang answered, waving a hand as if she could care less about Ruby’s whereabouts before nodding towards the large throne room beside them.  “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

With Yang waiting for her to enter the room first, Weiss turned towards her royal guard.

“Wait out here,” she directed them - the unanticipated demand making Yang’s brow raise.  

“No guards?” Yang asked before grinning and shooing her own guards away.  “l like where this is going.”

“I’d like my closest advisor to come with me though,” Weiss added, gesturing to Blake.  If Blake was surprised by the term, she did an excellent job hiding it. Instead, she returned Yang’s questioning gaze with an impassive expression.

Eventually, Yang shrugged and waved them both through the doorway.

“After you, then.”

Blake and Weiss shared a look before walking into the throne room, which was just as cavernous as Weiss would have expected. The ceilings towered over their heads, their footsteps echoed off the highly polished floors, yet it was the sight of the twin thrones sitting ahead of them that really caught Weiss’ attention.

Where was Ruby?  This conversation was almost destined for failure without her presence.

“So -”  Clapping her hands, Yang stood in front of the thrones and sent Blake and Weiss a grin.  “What’s this I hear about a ‘truce’?  Doesn’t make much sense coming from someone like you.”

The words were intended as an insult, but Weiss tried not to let them annoy her.  If she let Yang get under her skin too early, they’d be at each other’s throats in no time.

“I want to discuss a truce,” Weiss replied as calmly as possible.  “This war has done nothing but harm - it’s time we put a stop to the needless fighting and focus on rebuilding the damage that’s been done.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Weiss saw Blake nod in agreement - and that small gesture assured Weiss that she had at least one person on her side.  

However, Yang scoffed and shook her head.

“Righttt...so after years of fighting, you suddenly just wanna up and quit?”  Again, Yang scoffed in disbelief.  “What terms are you trying to negotiate then - you want the crown off my head?  You want to march your armies into the city and take over?”

“That’s not at all what I’m suggesting.”  Weiss lifted her hands - trying to show she wasn’t playing a trick - but Yang stared her down, sending tendrils of uncomfortable heat across the room.  “I want to end the war,” Weiss repeated.  “Your soldiers can return home, and so will ours.”

Yang frowned at the words.

“But…” she said, intuitively picking up that Weiss had more to say.

“But we’ll need to work together to repair the damage.  Especially in The Badlands -”

“Oh that’s just ripe,” Yang interrupted, her frown turning into a full-fledged scowl that rang alarm bells in Weiss’ mind. “We’ll work together to fix The Badlands.  Vale and Atlas will unite to fix the problems that we caused.  Maybe you don’t remember that you’re the ones who marched your armies through there, killing innocent people -”

“And your armies started torching villages!” Weiss retorted, her voice rising with a spike of indignation.  Quickly shaking her head, she struggled to calm down - which would be easier to do if Yang’s inner fire wasn’t burning so hot.  The element was pulling at Weiss’ ice, bringing it to light.

“Those weren’t my decisions,” Weiss added firmly. “I had no say in the matter -”  

“Bullshit!”

As Yang shouted the word, flames shot from her. Weiss reacted with a wall of ice to deflect the anger, but in front of that ice a mountain of stone appeared, erupting from the ground as an impenetrable boulder.  The flames hit the rock and dissipated, dealing no damage before disappearing completely.  

The entire incident lasted no more than a second, but left Weiss staring at Blake - stunned by the display of power - while Yang laughed.

“l knew it!” Yang said.  “Belladonna - the earth assassin!  Walked right into my castle!”  Yang laughed again, her eyes trained on Blake while pointing to Weiss.  “Are you here to kill her or me - or both?  Because I think you’ll find that more difficult than you’re expecting.”

Undeterred by Yang’s response, Blake stood straighter and never looked away from Yang’s gaze.

“I’m not an assassin.”

“Really?” Yang asked, tilting her head in clear skepticism.  “Because they say you are.”

“And they say you’re hot-headed and reckless,” Blake shot back.  “It appears the rumors were right about one of us.”

Weiss expected Yang to scowl at the fiery response, but instead she let out a short huff - looking almost amused by the quick wit aimed back at her.

“You’re still an outlaw,” Yang pointed out.  “And what - you hitched a ride here?”  Gasping for effect, Yang leaned closer and lowered her voice.  “Were you planning to off the Queen of Atlas on the way?”  Dropping the act and chuckling, she leaned away and waved towards Weiss.  “Because feel free - I won’t stand in your way.”

Weiss scowled at the response, but dropped the expression when Blake turned towards her - eyes begging for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry,” Blake said, confirming Yang’s words to be true.  “When I heard your caravan was stopped nearby, I knew I had to take a chance - in hopes it would stop the fighting.”  

“Forgiven,” Weiss replied before Blake could feel too badly about it.  “I figured it was a possibility, anyway.”

Again, Blake was surprised by Weiss’ reply - pleasantly so.  With a smile that felt like the beginnings of friendship, she continued.

“After hearing your plans, and what you hope to accomplish, I knew I wanted to help.” Pausing, Blake turned back to Yang.  “l believe her,” she said, not at all intimidated by the raw power emanating from Yang.  “And I have no reason to believe either of you.”

“You believe her?” Yang asked, pointing towards Weiss and scoffing.

“Yes,” Blake said, unafraid to use emphasis in the face of the Queen of Vale. “You try to place the blame entirely on Atlas, but Vale hasn’t cared about us either.  The people at the fringes were left to fend for themselves - free to starve to death while both kingdoms ignored us or destroyed what little we had left.  Why do you think we organized?  Why do you think we fought back?  You’re deciding your politics on our land, our homes.  We might never recover from the destruction, but you won’t care about that, either.”

When Blake’s impassioned rant ended, Yang stared - her mouth open as she searched for a response.  But she wasn’t given the opportunity as a giggle broke through the silence in the room.  Weiss’ heart leapt at the sound - because she would know that giggle anywhere.  It was everything she remembered it to be and more...even more incredible to hear in person than to imagine in a dream.

A breeze swept across the room, and Ruby finally joined her sister - playfully shaking Yang’s shoulders to remove the angry stiffness from them.

“She’s got you there, Yang,” Ruby teased, her lighthearted voice working wonders in dispelling the rising tension.  But then Ruby shook her head sadly, understanding the situation far better than her years would suggest.

“We knew people would suffer, but we had to protect those we could.  Now Atlas wants a truce - why would we keep fighting?”

“l - because -” Searching for an answer and coming up empty, Yang shook her head and pointed at Weiss.  “Because I think she’s lying!”

“Hmm...”

Thinking about Yang’s concern, Ruby met Weiss’ gaze and walked over.  Weiss’ skin tingled the closer Ruby drew, buzzing with an energy unlike anything she’d experienced in this life.  When Ruby was close enough, Weiss broke every custom she’d learned and curtsied.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Queen Rose,” she said, her inner ice melting under Ruby’s warm, silver gaze.

“You too,” Ruby replied, responding with her own curtsy that made Yang frown.  “You can call me Ruby.”

“Ruby...” Weiss savored the name on her lips before smiling, fending off the waves of happiness that wanted her to kiss Ruby right then and there.  “Please call me Weiss.”

Ruby was enjoying the interaction, and enjoying every bit of royal protocol Weiss was willing to break with her.  

If that’s what Ruby wanted, Weiss would willingly break every rule she’d ever learned.

“Are you lying, Weiss?” Ruby asked, her expression serious but a smile threatened to break at any moment.  “Are you pretending to want a truce - to trick us?”

“I’m not lying,” Weiss replied, willing Ruby to believe her.  “My father craved power and was willing to fight to take it.  I’m not my father.  I want nothing but peace.”

For the longest time, Ruby looked into Weiss’ eyes as if reading her very soul.  It made her feel vulnerable, exposed, and...alive - alive in a way that only came from sharing everything with another person, trusting them to treat what they learned with confidence and security.

Finding whatever she was searching for, Ruby smiled and turned around.

“l believe her!” she said, walking back to Yang’s side - leaving Weiss wishing that the moment hadn’t ended so soon. “Why don’t you?”

Staring at Ruby, Yang opened and closed her mouth several times before finally snapping her jaw shut and shaking her head.

“Because her father was an ass,” she grumbled, looking extremely unhappy with the turn of events.

Hearing the comment, Weiss burst out laughing. When everyone stared at her in surprise, she held up one hand and quickly pulled herself back together.

“I’m sorry,” she said, chuckling several times before clearing her throat and shaking her head.  “I’m sorry, but that might be the most succinct description of him I’ve ever heard.”

“Well at least we can all agree on something...” Blake muttered under her breath.

Having found common ground - in despising her despot of a father - Weiss discovered an opening, a chance to present her case to Yang and Ruby.

“l understand your hesitancy,” she said, her gaze inevitably drawn back to Ruby.  “And I understand you have no reason to trust me, but please feel free to suggest some way I can assure you that my intent is pure.”

Weiss waited, looking between Yang and Ruby while hoping one of them had a suggestion she could willingly agree to.  It didn’t matter what it was - as long as it was somewhat reasonable, she would do it.  

“l have an idea,” Ruby spoke up, smiling at Weiss and melting her heart in the process.  “I’ll go back to Atlas with her.”

“What?!” Yang shouted, while Weiss stared at Ruby in shock.

“I’ll go to Atlas with her,” Ruby repeated. “That way I can make sure she’s keeping her word.”

“I’m more than willing to accommodate that,” Weiss replied, still in a state of dumbfounded disbelief at the pleasant turn of events.  This was actually turning out far better than she could have hoped for.

“And if she - I don’t know - tries to kidnap you and use you for ransom?” Yang asked, but Ruby merely giggled at the serious question.

“l don’t think they can catch me.  And if they do, we know she lied and can unleash our secret weapon.”

“Secret -?”  When Ruby gave Yang a pointed look, Yang paused and slowly nodded.  “Ohhh, right - uh, that secret weapon.”

Weiss wasn’t sure if they were serious or if this was some long-standing joke between them, but she felt compelled to add her thoughts.

“l would never do that,” she said, again searching out Ruby’s gaze in an attempt to assure her.  “You have my word that you’ll be treated as the Queen you are and given access to the decisions our court makes.  Atlas needs to rebuild itself - we could use someone with experience to help shape our future.”

“I’d love to help,” Ruby replied, dipping her head in acceptance of Weiss’ response before turning to Blake.  “And maybe you’d be willing to stay and help Yang restore The Badlands to what it was before it became...you know...bad.”

Weiss could kiss Ruby for the suggestion, which took Yang completely by surprise.  From the interaction so far, it was obvious Yang was used to getting her way - unless Ruby overruled her.  Knowing Ruby, Weiss had to assume this hardly ever happened, which was the cause of Yang’s current consternation.

Blake, however, was hesitant but willing to try to make this work for the better.  Her inner desire to help the less fortunate normally led her decisions, and it continued to do so today.

“If you’d like my input, I’m willing to offer it.”

Everyone’s attention turned to Yang, who stared at Blake for a few seconds before laughing.  “Sure,” she replied with a shake of her head.  “I don’t mind an assassin moving in.”

“I’m not -”

“Not an assassin,” Yang interrupted with a wave of her hand.  “l get it. I’ve heard the other stories - how people look up to you, follow you.  You might not have a crown, but you’re a leader - like us.”  

The compliment left Yang’s lips easily, and she failed to notice Blake’s blush at the praise while sharing a long look with Ruby - the two of them conversing without words.  Weiss wished she understood what they were secretly discussing, but knew she’d develop that ability as she and Ruby spent more time together.  Today, she was simply happy to see Ruby give a slight nod and smile once more.

“Ok, if Ruby’s going to Atlas,” Yang began, meeting Blake’s eyes and - for the first time - looking pleasantly agreeable.  “I could use the help.”

When Blake nodded - looking both relieved and excited by Yang’s acceptance - Ruby giggled, the sound drawing Weiss’ intent gaze.

Ruby was as joyful as ever, but had just navigated a room full of explosive egos with aplomb.  Beyond that, she’d crafted solutions that would benefit the multitudes of people depending upon them.  

Blake staying with Yang meant that Vale could provide aid and resources to The Badlands without it being rejected outright. And Atlas needed to recover from the tyranny from which they’d just been freed.  The citizens needed to trust in leadership once more - and what better way to foster this trust than by bringing in someone as sweet as Ruby, who they would love in no time?

“I guess that’s settled then?” Yang asked, looking at Blake and Ruby before her eyes landed upon Weiss.  “The war is over?  We’ll call the troops back?”

“As soon as possible,” Weiss agreed.  “I’ll send a messenger right away.”

“Alright.  We will too.” Yang and Ruby shared a look before nodding in unison.  With that answer, Yang broke into a big smile - one that reflected her true personality. “It’ll probably take Ruby a couple days to get ready...you’re more than welcome to stay here while you wait.”

“That would be very nice.  Thank you,” Weiss answered, appreciative of the hospitality.

“Don’t mention it,” Yang replied with a wave. “So...how about a tour?”  With the question, she turned her attention back to Blake.  “Have you been to Vale before?”

“A long time ago,” Blake replied, moving to follow when Yang motioned towards her.  “But I can’t tell you what for.”

The teasing comment succeeded in making Yang laugh as the two headed out of the throne room, leaving Weiss and Ruby behind.

It was strange to think that it was that easy - that the four of them just ended the war and were now on speaking terms, that the four of them would work together to bring peace and prosperity to their kingdoms.  Of course, none of this would have happened without one person’s influence.

“I appreciate your help,” Weiss said, turning to the side and giving Ruby a sincere smile.  The situation would’ve ended far differently if not for Ruby’s timely arrival.

“I appreciate your honesty,” Ruby replied with a smile of her own.  “Please forgive Yang.  She tried to reason with your dad quite a few times, and...it never ended well.”

The disclosure wasn’t a surprise to Weiss, but she still shook her head in shame, wondering when she’d ever dig her way out of the hole her father had dug for her.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but I mean to change things.  And you’ll always have my honesty.”

“I know!” Ruby replied.  The certainty in the response cause Weiss to tilt her head in curiosity.

“How are you so sure about me?” she asked, unable to escape the feeling that Ruby could see right through her.

“You can learn a lot about a person by watching them,” Ruby commented, lightly swinging her arms while never losing that hint of a smile.  

“And what did you learn about me?” Weiss asked, willing her heart to stop beating so quickly at the thought that Ruby had been watching her.  

But it only beat faster when Ruby leaned close and whispered, “I learned...that I want to learn more about you.”

Leaning away and giggling, Ruby had no idea she’d just given Weiss a small heart attack - or she knew exactly what she’d just done, and that’s what she was giggling.  

“Can I show you around Vale before we leave?” Ruby asked, taking a step towards the door before turning back to Weiss with a heart-stopping smile.

This version of Ruby was...majestic.  Maybe it was the air fueling her - flowing through her like a breath of freshness in a world of uncertainty - or maybe it was her upbringing as royalty, but her traditional kindness was layered with an elegance that Weiss found impossible to resist.

“I’d love that,” she managed to reply, spurring her feet into motion as they left the throne room and rejoined Yang and Blake.

All these years, Weiss had dreamed of meeting Ruby - of finding the person she was destined to be with.  Now that they’d finally met...she was dreaming of a kiss.

“Did we fix things?”

Weiss smiled - at the question and at the fact that Ruby had listened to the second half of the story with a French fry halfway to her mouth.

“We did.  There were trials along the way, but the four of us always worked together to solve them.  And we were...happy.”

The memory spread like a warm ray of sun through Weiss’ chest.  They’d formed a bond comparable to the one they’d shared in their very first life together.  It was that closeness and trust that led them through all the evils the world threw at them. And, through it all, Ruby stayed by Weiss’ side - a constant source of love and devotion that got them through.

“You were a queen, too,” Ruby commented, finally biting off half of her French fry before chewing thoughtfully.  “And your family owns some businesses this time...it sounds like you’re usually pretty rich?”  

Fortunate in wealth, never in love.  That’s how Weiss’ lives worked - until she met Ruby, then her fortunes changed.  But she would gladly forego her wealth to stay by Ruby’s side, and in some instances she’d done just that.

“Usually,” Weiss answered.  “I like to think it provides me with the resources to find you. But that’s not always the case. There are times when we both have nothing - but in those lives, it seems like we find each other far earlier.” Leaning forward, she smiled. “Those are some of the best ones.”

This time there was no hesitation in Ruby’s eyes. Instead, there was a sparkle of excitement as she picked up another French fry and leaned closer to the table.

“Will you tell me about one?”

The question was music to Weiss’ ears.

“I’d love to.”

[perzival]

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? More milk than cereal (nothing worse than dry cereal)
2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? Yes (but I don’t like the feeling of cold air in my ears)
3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? Pens
4: how do you take your coffee/tea? Both with milk and sugar
5: are you self-conscious of your smile? Yes very
6: do you keep plants? I have some dying roses but that’s it
7: do you name your plants? Dying roses
8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? Dad dancing
9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? Yes
10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? Side, people who sleep on their back are weird and people who sleep on their stomach must not have boobs
11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends? “Happy woof dog walker"
12: what’s your favorite planet? Pluto. Fight me. 
13: what’s something that made you smile today? @loadsofutternonsense
14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? The friend would look like @loadsofutternonsense the flat would look like an idea showroom (also I really want a bed sunken into the floor) and the city would look like London 15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! You can get lightning in space
16: what’s your favorite pasta dish? Spaghetti carbonara 
17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? Really dark red/brown 
18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. Once I stuck a pencil in my eyebrow (I was really young) in an attempt to skip school and the lead broke off in my head and there’s still a visible blue dot above my eyebrow!
19: do you keep a journal? What do you write/draw/ in it? Nope but if I did I would try and draw the best bird I saw each day
20: what’s your favorite eye color? Green
21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. I don’t have a favourite bag!
22: are you a morning person? Yeah sure if the morning starts at 1pm
23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? @loadsofutternonsense
24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? @loadsofutternonsense
25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? What no I’m a well behaved citizen 
26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit? My mum always throws away shoes when I’m getting attached to them (when they get gross)
27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor? Bubblegum.
28: sunrise or sunset? Sunset 
29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? @loadsofutternonsense has the cutest smile
30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? Yes, I’m fairly pathetic
31: what is your opinion of socks? Do you like wearing weird socks? Do you sleep with socks? Do you confine yourself to white sock hell? Really, just talk about socks. I LOVE SOCKS I LOVE ALL SOCKS I LOVE MISMATCHING MY SOCKS I LOVE NEW SOCKS I LOVE PATTERNED SOCKS I REALLY WANT ALL THE SOCKS
32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3am when you were with friends. I’m really not that cool I don’t get out that often
33: what’s your fave pastry? APPLE PIE
34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. What is it called? What does it look like? Do you still keep it? As a kid????? I still have tons but my special one is an owl called Psusu (the P is silent) he’s super cool and has loads of jumpers my granny knitted him
35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? Do you use them often? YES but I don’t use them that often
36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now? The 1975 kinda have songs for all my moods so…
37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? I like keeping it clean I just never manage to
38: tell us about your pet peeves! People in general
39: what color do you wear the most? Grey
40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? Does it have any meaning to you? A silver ring with my school crest on and the date of our final year.
41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving? How we’ll live on Mars by Stephen Petranek
42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? Describe it! Lady Dinah’s Cat Emporium! A cat cafe that @loadsofutternonsense took me to 43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? No one 
44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? I’m constantly anxious
45: do you trust your instincts a lot? No
46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. You can drive but do you avocado….yeah awful
47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? Avocados
48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? Is it the same today? YES, the sea in general I absolutely hate it
49: do you like buying cds and records? What was the last one you bought? Yasssss so much! A head full of dreams- coldplay
50: what’s an odd thing you collect? Tickets but that’s not that odd
51: think of a person. What song do you associate with them? @loadsofutternonsense
Loving somwone- the 197552: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? Orange cheeto
53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? Heathers? Beetlejuice? Pulp fiction? What do you think of them? No actually never watched any of these 
54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? “Yourself in the mirror” - @loadsofutternonsense
55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point? I’m so dramatic and now I can’t think of anything!
56: what are some things you find endearing in people? Letting me pet their dogs. 
57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. How did it make you feel? Did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? It just made me miss my friend Lucy
58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? Why? @loadsofutternonsense only because I’ve offended him in saying so
59: what’s your favorite myth? My love life (jk)
60: do you like poetry? What are some of your faves? No I don’t like poetry at all
61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? The stupidest one you’ve ever received? I gave my friend a shirt I knew she hated just to annoy her. She gave me three odd socks in return. 
62: do you drink juice in the morning? Which kind? No I drink coffee because I’m weak
63: are you fussy about your books and music? Do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? No not really my CDs are scattered around my car and my books are all on various different shelves in my parents’ house 
64: what color is the sky where you are right now? Black
65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with? Unsure actually
66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? Dying roses ;)
67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? They make me feel less guilty about staying inside and playing video games
68: what’s winter like where you live? Cold it’s England, not snowy enough
69: what are your favorite board games? Risk, harry potter cluedo, diplomacy, the game of life, settlers of catan
70: have you ever used a ouija board? Nope
71: what’s your favorite kind of tea? Peach iced 
72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it? Yes but in denial about it
73: what are some of your worst habits? Having no emotions (I kid I have some)
74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. Complete idiot who I love very much 
75: tell us about your pets! I HAVE TOO MANY AND I LOVE THEM ALL TOO MUCH
76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t? Maths or @loadsofutternonsense77: pink or yellow lemonade? Pink
78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? Somewhere in the middle
79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? @loadsofutternonsense
once surprised me after class which was adorable, he’s also surprised me with roses (currently dying)80: what color are your bedroom walls? Did you choose that color? If so, why? Boring white I didn’t choose that colour my parents did.
81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. This requires imagination which I don’t have
82: are/were you good in school? Not really 
83: what’s some of your favorite album art? Death of a bachelor- panic! At the disco
84: are you planning on getting tattoos? Which ones? No but if I saw a tattoo I really really liked I might consider it
85: do you read comics? What are your faves? Not anymore but I used to read captain America ones
86: do you like concept albums? Which ones? Unsure
87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? BRIDGET JONES (all 3), LOVE ACTUALLY, STAR WARS AND CLOUD ATLAS
88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? No
89: are you close to your parents? No
90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. I’m not a fan of cities 
91: where do you plan on traveling this year? Hopefully Scotland in the summer and I’m going to Norway next week
92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? Somewhere between (cheese is great)
93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most? 
My hair does its own thing no one can stop it94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? My friend Lauren
95: what are your plans for this weekend? Falconry, packing for norway and visiting my granny
96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? My. Laptop. Is. Broken. Would if I could 
97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? Can’t remember. Gemini. Hufflepuff. 
98: when’s the last time you went hiking? Did you enjoy it? 2015 I went to Madagascar I loved it and hated it
99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. Chocolate - the 1975, Black me out - against me!
100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? Why? 5 years in the future! Because hopefully I’ll have more freedom then and also @loadsofutternonsense will be there, he wouldn’t be if I went back 5 years

@loadsofutternonsense is an idiot and I did not enjoy answering all 100 questions