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shadowgeist-stars · 3 years

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Ren x Gakushu: Nightmares

Ren was standing in the Chairman's office, watching the man pace around him, Araki, Seo, and Koyama with practiced, measured steps. His words were almost entirely unintelligible, but his voice was just like always. The same eerie, low tenor that made his skin try to crawl off his body, like he suddenly had some kind of flesh-eating disease.

Suddenly the monster struck. A huge fleshy mass with eyes so big that they overlapped one another on its face. A mouth so wide and sharply fanged that it could swallow anyone whole and shred them apart in its jaws anyway. Before he knew it, there was an agonizing sting at the back of his head and the better part of his back. Ren was somehow thrown against the wall, pain tearing against his sternum and surrounding ligaments making it nearly impossible to breathe. The others were no different, as if they were flung just as woefully unprepared into the same MMA fight that he was in.

Then he realized all of their bodies hadn't even moved.

For all intents and purposes, their minds had been violently punted from each of their bodies, leaving them as empty shells that did nothing but chant an insatiable desire to kill E-Class. If Ren didn't have trouble breathing before, he was all but suffocating now. It only got worse when Gakushu reentered the room, only to call out to Ren and the others in horror. The mix of anger, disgust, and outright fear with which he stared at his father and his pet beast nearly wrenched his racing heart clear out of his chest.

“Gakushu, please… I'm right here…”

He forced his ghostly form to stand up. Dizziness spun his vision every which way. His shaking feet didn't feel anything close to steady as he tried to stumble toward his friend. The monster over the principal's shoulder only pounced again, painfully crushing his throat in its clawed grip as he could only face that menacing, unnatural grin. Darkness was beginning to dot his vision as it blurred with tears. He reached helplessly for his best friend with whatever vanishing strength he had left, as it all went cold and dark and --

Ren's eyes shot open with a gasp, heart pounding and breathing as if he'd just endured one of Gakushu's soccer games. He lay frozen and tense in his bed, clutching his bed covers and staring at nothing but his own bedroom floor as he slowly willed himself to calm down.

After he finally deemed himself calmed from the nightmare, (and telling himself that No, panic-brain, my blazer that I keep hung on my door is not a monster that's here to kill me) he sat up in his bed and checked the time on his alarm clock.

Only a few minutes after 3 o’clock, in the morning.

Ren grimaced to himself, running a hand through his stupid bedhead. Either Seo or Koyama would probably laugh about some kind of joke related to the time that he’s almost certain he’d rather not hear. However, he just thought it was too darn early to be up, even with something like a very graphic memory/nightmare to blame.

The principal monster from his nightmare flashed behind his eyes, in its own twisted "speak of the devil." What better way of being told by one's own brain that going back to sleep at that moment was not an option?

…Maybe a cup of tea or something warm (and uncaffeinated) would settle him down enough to help.

With a sigh, he got out of bed, pulled on a shirt, and headed to the kitchen.

He knew the house well enough that he didn't have to turn on the lights. He knew every place where the floors creaked, exactly where to stick to the walls and where to simply keep a light foot. The tiny nightlights in the halls kept it just visible enough that one didn't have to stumble around in complete darkness.

Many years ago, traversing his house at night was a game to Ren. One where his eyes sported beams of light to help him see. A game in which the dark wasn’t a monster to fear, but his playmate.

When he reached the kitchen, he breathed a soft sigh of relief. He grabbed a mug from the dish cabinet, but before he could do anything else, he noticed a light.

Light that was coming from the living room TV, partly shadowed by a figure on the couch.

Ren had a feeling he knew who that was. Guess I’m not the only one having a rough night.

With that in mind, he grabbed a second mug before pulling the jar of dried chamomile from the back of a different cabinet, fixing some tea with it.

The person on the couch didn’t respond to any noise he made, which meant one of two things: he was either quite aware of his presence and simply waiting for Ren to reveal himself, or he was out of it to the point of somehow not noticing the brunette was even there.

With someone like Gakushu Asano, there was no in-between with those two possibilities.

The moment the tea was ready, Ren poured it into the two mugs, a small voice in the back of his mind reminding him to put some sugar in Gakushu’s mug. He likes his tea sweetened a little. It’ll help him calm down more easily if he’s tense or had a nightmare, and right now he's possibly both.

He glanced at whatever he was watching on TV, which was turned down so low he couldn’t quite hear it. A documentary: his go-to for calming down from a bad dream. Crime or historic ones usually mean something relatively tame. But this one’s a nature documentary; he only goes to those things when it’s really bad.

The taller boy took a deep breath before heading over, humming a familiar tune and making sure to seek out the one floorboard he knew would creak. A word of advice from a friend, so as to not scare him once in his line of sight.

The redhead made an almost unnoticeable jolt before bright purple eyes met his. (So he really was out of it to a point he didn't know I was there, or at least hyperfixating on the TV.) He was wrapped in a throw blanket and had his legs laid across the length of the couch; he was probably planning on sleeping there if he was able to calm down enough.

“Ren… How long have you been up?” he asked, shifting around to sit properly on the sofa.

He chuckled, setting down the mugs on the coffee table until he was sitting down beside his boyfriend. “Obviously not as long as you.” His smile became a frown when he got no snarky response. “Nightmares keeping you up, too, huh?”

The shorter boy only nodded once, taking his mug when it was offered. “I hoped to be able to sleep again, after getting my mind off of it… And I didn’t expect to be discovered."

Ren hummed, sipping his own beverage. "…It was the brainwashing incident on my end… Araki saying it felt like an out-of-body experience was pretty accurate."

The ginger didn't seem too surprised. "…It was partially that exact incident for myself… and also the immediate aftermath of the pole-toppling match. I still find it hard to forget how badly Kevin and the other exchange students were injured, because of him… it was so severe that they all had to return to their home countries, once they'd recovered enough to do so."

The others didn’t hear much of that when it happened beyond when the paramedics showed up at the school. At the time, they all knew better than to ask while the wound was still fresh. Then again, it wasn’t like he would’ve been coherent enough to elaborate on the situation anyway, given how he fell asleep on the ride home.

"Least they don't have to worry about him hurting them again now…" he replied finally, "or anyone, to be honest. Especially not you." He pulled the strawberry blond boy into his side. "I think you remember well enough… how worried I was when he hit you in front of everybody."

The shorter boy’s exhale reverberated with exhaustion as his head drooped on his lover’s shoulder, followed by the sound of him emptying his mug. “Not as much as I wish I did… but at the same time more than I care to admit. It’s exhausting just thinking about it.”

The brunette smiled sadly at the sheer amount of fatigue in his tone, giving his shoulder a squeeze before finishing his own drink. "All the same, we can say that we're safe from him, and that in itself means a lot… By the way, I would've been alright with you coming over to my room after you woke up from your nightmare."

That only earned him a sleepy, yet sour look. "Why would I do that? I'm not a toddler, Ren."

The brunette snickered, using a thumb and index finger to get the other to face him. "Maybe not, but it's not childish to be afraid or need someone else, even for just a little company. Haven't you felt any better since I came out here?"

Gakushu tried to avert his face. "I suppose you could say that…"

Begrudging victory; I'll take it.

He smiled as he leaned in to kiss the shorter boy. He slipped his tongue in easily, tasting the chamomile's aftermath and practically feeling the remnants of Gakushu's tension and traces of his own nightmare disappear into the documentary's white noise. The ginger all but melted into his arms, the long and lazy kiss bearing down on his eyelids with sleep in a wave of honeyed warmth. Pulling away showed a pair of hazy purple eyes struggling to open again, on an adorable, blushing face.

“I love you, Gakushu; sweet dreams.”

The shorter boy gave a slow, cat-like blink, snuggling further against the taller boy. “Hmm… love you too… Ren…”

Ren chuckled at his slurred speech as he took Gakushu's empty mug from his hands, placing it and his own mug on the coffee table. Afterwards he turned off the TV, pulling Gakushu along as he shifted them around, until they were now both laying sideways on the couch, with a red-haired head on his chest. He managed to resituate the throw blanket over them both, draping long arms over his beloved; one settling across his waist, the other scratching his scalp in rhythmic circles.

He leaned into the crevice between the couch cushion and backrest with a contented sigh. With the weight and warmth of his boyfriend in his arms and the steady whispering breeze of breath in his ears and over his chest, the image of the former principal and the big-eyed monster was nothing more than a fading memory. They were both safe here, in this homey little bubble. Pressing a final kiss to his boyfriend's crown, he laid his own head down and closed his eyes, letting sleep carry him away on a far more welcoming cloud.

It wasn’t the first time they had such nightmares, and it may well be far from the last, but for now, they could sleep without fear, and that was enough.

#assassination classroom #gakushu asano #ren sakakibara #ren x gakushu #rengaku #asaren #asano gakushu #sakakibara ren #ansatsu kyoushitsu #i like rarepairs okay?

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jojo-reader-hell · 4 years

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imagine being Jotaro's twin, and you wake up one morning. You look in the bathroom mirror, only to realize you have fangs, claws, & slit pupils. You scream for Jotaro, who is groggy from the lack of sleep. He glares at you, "wait that's it? For fuck's sake, i thought it was a spider or something." Then he yells for your dear mother. "It's y/n, they're finally going through their transformation." Holly squeals before rushing over to you. (It turns out the Joestar family is a werewolf clan!)

I loved this idea so much that I kinda got carried away writing for it! I definitely would like to turn this into a two parter, so keep an eye out for the AO3 link! Until then, hope you enjoy!

Werewolf!Joestars and Werewolf!Reader

...

“WAAAAAAAAAAAH!! BUBBA! BUBBA!”

Big brother instincts activated, Jotaro slammed the door to his room wide open, nearly putting a hole in the wall and causing the door to dangle haphazardly off its hinges. His footfall was heavy, bounding through the hallway and nearly knocking down the decorative plants. In the back of his mind, whatever wasn’t preoccupied with getting to you was worrying about his mother’s nagging about the second door he would have to break to find you. But door be damned, he had to get to you. You never screamed this loud unless something was terribly wrong...

He skidded to a halt in front of the open bathroom, thankful for once in his life that you had the nasty habit of leaving it open, and saw you curled into a ball on the floor. Jotaro wasted no time in dragging you up to sit on your knees and asking where it hurt, only to stop dead in his tracks when he got a good look at you.

“B-Bubba!” You whined, an unmistakable edge to it as you clutched your face. “I’m ugly!”

“You’ve always been ugly.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and you only cried harder and more violently, a little blood dribbling out of your mouth where extra canines had been growing over your normal set.

“What’s happening to me?!” You wailed. “Everything hurts, my mouth is bleeding, my hands are furry, there’s a fuzzy thing on my butt and when I tried to pull it off I scratched myself with my nails-...”

“Good God, just shut your yap already!” Jotaro snapped. “You’re alright, stand up by yourself!”

“Jotaro! What’s wrong?! What’s happened??”

The pattering of your mother’s slippers echoed throughout the hallway, she nearly slid on the wood floors when she came to an abrupt halt, watching in horror as Jotaro yanked you up violently by the arm and tried to get you to stop screaming and wailing. Evidently it wasn’t working, because the louder he barked orders at you to shut up the harder you cried, yelping every time he yanked you the wrong way.

“Fuckhead over here is going through the change!” He answered back, as though you’d merely gotten a zit. Jotaro was dangling you by your arm painfully, and you tried clawing at him to make him put you down.

Nothing bullied him into letting go until a dark look crossed your mother’s face.

“Let go Jojo.”

She used a voice you never heard before, and even more shocking was the fact that Jojo finally listened for once instead of bullying her and calling her horrible names. He immediately dropped you into her care, feigning disinterest like a scolded pet.

“Oh, my baby!” She cooed, a huge smile coming over her face as she took over trying to get you to stand on your own. “It’s going to be all ok now, sweet baby. Nothings wrong, and you’re not ugly. You’re growing up!”

“H-hwat???” You blubbered, acting like a child as your mother mopped up your face with her apron, not caring that your bloody mouth was staining the white fabric.

“Look baby! Look how pretty your fur is, oh... how cute, I hope you have the same pattern as your grandpa. Even your little tail... we need to get you all nice and brushed.”

“But I... I don’t understand!” You couldn’t wrap your head around it, your mother was more concerned with gushing over you and reassuring you about how cute you were, and all you could do was babble questions until your brother put it bluntly for you:

“You’re turning into a wolf stupid.”

“Jojo, we need to be encouraging.”

Your mother’s voice had a certain conviction to it, another mystery wrapped in an enigma as she glanced disapprovingly at her son. She began to tell you all about the changes that would take place over the next few months, asking if you remembered those puberty videos they showed you in school when you were eleven, and you did, quite vividly if you were being honest. Every month during the full moon you’d just go through the motions of transforming, until your body got used to it and the process became as natural to you as breathing. She assuaged your fears: no you weren’t going to become a bloodthirsty animal. No you weren’t a danger to your family. No you weren’t going to suddenly find other wolves attractive or any other silly fear you had. All it was she said was an extra step in growing up you had to take, kind of like puberty 2.0. Well, it was sort of like that for the Joestars anyway, going back as far as your great great grandfather’s parents, the mythological monster part coming from his mother Mary who was one of the last of the werewolves. The lineage was diluted, hence the pain at the beginning that was inevitable, because in order to be with her beloved for all eternity she had to bite him to turn him, thus every Joestar since had to experience a rather horrific baptism by blood when they came of age. It could have been avoided if the lineage had been kept human free, and you would have been born a fluffy puppy instead of a baby, but then where would we be if we couldn’t choose the ones we loved your mother reasoned.

“The only tricky little detail is keeping the secret of our immortality. Usually when we’ve felt enough is enough here among humans, we just pop off into the woods and enjoy our nice long life with our loved ones. You’ll even age differently, your face will stay wrinkle free, and the only difference is your hair will turn grey!”

“Wait a minute... you mean we can’t die and we just leave society to live in the woods?”

“Uh huh!”

“Like, the actual woods around our house?”

“Of course baby. Everyone lives in the woods, who do you think you hear howling every now and again when the moon is full? If you’d like, you can spend your moon time with your Grandpa and Granny, or Papa Jonathan and Momma Erina will be there to take care of you too!”

The way your mother put it, it was like being a werewolf was as simple as going on a fucking family vacation every month.

When the pain came back you didn’t care to even acknowledge the insanity of your mother’s nonchalance. All you knew was that it felt as though somebody was taking you by the arms and legs trying to yank them out of the sockets.

“It hurts...” you cried, “Can I please have something for the pain?”

“No honey... Now that it’s taking over, we can’t give you any anti inflammatories for the pain, it’s too dangerous. We have to be very careful with certain foods too, no chocolates or onions, no coffee, no more cooked bones, no nuts, no avocado. You’ll have to be very careful with your diet from now on, those things can make you very sick. But I have an idea, maybe it will help if you shift completely and we get some food in you.”

“How do I do that?”

“Just relax, don’t tense up because of the pain, it just has to happen. Breathing helps as well, if you want, mommy can shift with you and I’ll show you how to breathe.”

She shooed Jotaro out of the bathroom, giving him some sort of a nonverbal signal that made him snap to attention, for obvious reasons she explained that it would be best to do it in private. You could hear Jotaro on the phone with someone, informing them of your latest development with the Joestar gene and instructing them to bring lots of something, whatever it was you didn’t catch it because your mother closed the door behind her. She helped you change and folded your clothes painstakingly, holding your hands in hers as she instructed you to keep your eyes trained on hers.

“In and out sweetheart.” She told you, inhaling through the nose and exhaling out through the mouth. “In... and out...”

She made a soft sound with her pursed lips, and you mimicked her even though your body was in excruciating pain. Eventually you could actually feel the smoothness of the transition, once the tension left your body you noticed the pain had disappeared and your bones just simply shifted out of place and wherever they needed to go. When you finally came to, you noticed that the world was a whole hell of a lot bigger, a fact that made you completely terrified. Your whole body was seized by shaking and it only made your fear worse, but when you looked at the mass of cream colored fur in front of you, you actually voiced your fear with a loud yelp.

“Baby, shhh, it’s mama.”

A large wet nose pressed against your soft cheeks, a large warm wet tongue lathed at your face, so familiar... you felt like you remembered something like this, maybe when you were a baby, a memory of you cold and wriggling against the same warm cream colored fur surfaced and soothed you somewhat. When you finally looked up, you immediately recognized the warm green eyes staring lovingly back at you.

“Mama...” your voice was startling, almost high pitched. When you looked down at yourself, you noticed little beany paws where your feet and hands should have been, completely covered head to toe in fuzz the color of your hair.

Making yourself go cross eyed revealed a soft muzzle and little black nose, but it hurt to focus too much and you had to stop, turning to the side and noticing a soft rotund puppy body where your own used to be. You were still the same size, but when compared to the adult body of your mother, you felt incredibly small. She was gigantic, rear end pressing against the door as she struggled to stoop in the bathroom, a huge bushy tail nearly the size of your body thumping against the sink and displacing a couple of toothbrushes.

“It’s okay baby. There’s a lot of changes happening, and when you’re born into it you’re luckier than if you’d been bitten like your Granny Suzie or your great Granny Lisa Lisa. Everything is gradual, and you’re not going to burn so much energy. It’s so much easier going through this, you will be smaller than the rest of us for a while until you’re out of high school, but that’s ok. It’s just like growing up all over again, except this goes much faster, isn’t that exciting?”

You couldn’t help the whine that escaped as she mouthed your neck and picked you up. Being dangled from this height didn’t exactly help you when you were already a fearful person to begin with, and it certainly didn’t help that your mother was now the size of the mega fauna they had at the museums. But it was all a matter of perspective. You’d never seen a wolf this close before, only from far away at the zoo on rare occasions, and certainly not from the perspective of being small enough that her mouth almost dwarfed your body, her hot breath steaming on your pelt as she scratched at the closed door with a large paw.

When it opened, Jotaro was there, looking far too annoyed at the fact that you made such a fuss about your changes. He raised an eyebrow as your mother tried to wriggle out of the narrow door frame into the hall with you still in her mouth, and even more shocking was the fact that after she’d placed you delicately on her oversized bed to snuggle with you, you saw Jotaro just close his eyes and lose himself into his own impossibly large wolf form, not caring that his clothes ripped. He laid his head next to you, nosing you as your mother’s bushy tail encircled you protectively, and she began to clean you in a similar manner to a cat cleaning a kitten. Was it the same for canids? Probably. You’d never owned a dog before and suddenly you were very aware of why this was. Especially the way your brother acted, he was a grumpy asshole as a person, you could only imagine what he was like as a monster.

Curiosity compelled you to look around the room, everything so different from a wolfy perspective. Your perception of colors was vastly different, as was the way you perceived the room itself. Often you’d find yourself staring at things that seemed to mystify the primal part of your brain. You were compelled to gnaw at the tassels on your mother’s bedspread, but her gentle nip on your ear discouraged you. Things you knew to be red and green were nearly invisible, fading to grey or an interesting shade of yellow that you didn’t think could exist. Her dresser table interested you the most, as you could see your little ears in the reflection. Lifting your head up a little bit more however, that was a different story as the human reasoning part of your brain suddenly seemed to shut down.

“MAMA!” Your voice was a shrill scream!

You stood on your hind legs and began screaming, hackles raised and your poor little tail between your legs. The sounds you made were so loud and scared that it made your brother flinch.

“MAMA MAMA MAMA MAMA MAMA! THERES A MONSTER ON THE DRESSER! THERES A MONSTER ON THE DRESSER! MAMA HELP ME THERES A MONSTER ON THE DRESSER!”

...

“Oh that’s adorable Jonathan! Where’d you find that?”

“It was mine when I was a pup!” Jonathan Joestar said, a look of pride on his face as Suzie examined the tiny blue collar with a brass bell he had in his hands. “My mother got it for me because I had a tendency to wander, this way Holly can use it on the little one. Jotaro was too big for it, but I figure it’s just the size for my little bundle of joy!”

“I figured it would be best to just bring meat, and lots of it considering how ravenous of an appetite Jotaro had when he turned.” Joseph Joestar insisted, he and his wife carrying two large fresh kills apiece.

“We can’t feed the baby that!” Jonathan’s wife Erina looked scandalized, holding far too many sweaters that looked similar to the ones pet owners got for their spoiled dogs. “We’re just going to get the little one dirty, and then Holly’s going to have to clean up the mess later on after we make sure the little one is asleep.”

“Once we get the little one fed, then we can give out presents, matter of fact it was very smart of Joseph to bring so much. Whatever the little one doesn’t eat, Holly and Jotaro can have.” reasoned Jonathan’s son, a hulking creature named George who was every bit the spitting image of his father, and the only one of the bunch comfortable enough in the open to remain in wolf form. “Better to be full of food than stressing about the new changes on an empty stomach. Especially if the two of them had to waste energy and shift from the sound of Jotaro’s phone call. It wouldn’t hurt to be fully shifted when we see them either. After all, Holly is the alpha, it would be helpful for her to be surrounded by familiar faces instead of a bunch of humans.”

They all agreed, stopping short of the little cabin in the woods where Holly lived with her two children, helping each other to change out of clothes and stashing them in strategic places on the porch before transforming into creatures so large some of them had to hang back, unable to fit on the small space of the porch. Jonathan took the lead, a smile on his canine face as he politely scratched at the door.

“Jojo!” He barked, tail thumping wildly against the wall as he scratched the door again. “Jojo it’s us! Please let us in!”

He was interrupted by the shrill sound of a puppy’s yelping, the door flying open only for the mega wolf to be nearly bowled over by a very frightened young werewolf being chased by an alpha female.

“HELP! HELP! MONSTER!” You cried, taking off into the woods as your mother chased at your heels.

“Baby! Baby please come back! It was only your reflection! There’s no monster in the house!” Your mother barked after you.

“MONSTER!”

A very irritated and nearly naked Jotaro appeared at the door much to everyone’s shock, scratching his rear through the leftover shreds of his pants.

“Good grief, at least you brought me something to eat...”

There wasn’t even time to scold him for taking a large portion of the kill, he simply took it and went back indoors, dragging it off into a corner to gorge while Jonathan tried to help your mother chase you down.

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katcadecascade · 4 years

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Owl Be Here

Qrow Branwen does bird shenanigans at five in the morning. James and Clover suffer.

Ao3

James was honest when he said it was good to see Qrow again. He missed his oldest friend, missed their banter and how Qrow would be the first to push against his logic, force James to rethink his less than sound plans.

It was nice to have Qrow and his kids in Atlas. He missed having real company who weren’t suits or soldiers.

Although, he could do without the bird fights in four in the morning.

Gods, James hasn’t dealt with this in years and yet it feels utterly normal to be awakening to the noise of what can only be described as a screaming death match. He recognizes the high pitch squalls of Qrow, too loud to forget.

So for the first time in a long while, James leaves his warm bed in search for the source of the commotion. His apartment is located far too close to his office to anyone’s liking so it’s a short walk from here to the apex of the dormitories.

There’s a main lobby and lounge area with access to the outside courtyard where James spies a crow and an owl roaring at each other.

Yep, that’s his closest friend alright.

James spends who knows how long sighing at the open doorway, thinking about closing it just to muffle out the two birds. This is by far the most effective alarm clock, albeit rather annoying but he knows Qrow’s not doing this to annoy him.

It doesn’t change the fact that James is annoyed though. He doubts he’s alone on that since this is the school dorms so he hopes Qrow will finish his argument with his nocturnal enemy.

Mindlessly he wonders which niece of the shapeshifter will snap awake first. He bets it will be Yang who convinces Qrow to stop while Ruby throws something at him.

But his guesses are wrong when it Clover who joins him on this not so quiet night.

“Sir, what,” the captain yawns and trudges over to see the broken symphony of screeches. “What is going on? It’s too early for whatever this is.”

“Tell that to Qrow.”

“Huh?”

“That’s Qrow up there, screaming at that owl.”

It was refreshing to see Clover out of uniform and in sweatpants and an academy standard muscle tank. The fuzzy socks are a nice touch.

According to his wide eyed staring the captain is shocked to catch his general in a similar state. Perhaps his silken robes are a tad surprise. It is practically the only thing James pampers himself with.

Sleepiness falls away from Clover as he processes the situation. The high branches of a courtyard tree are the stage for the opera of a crow and an owl. That may sound whimsical or majestic but trust James when he describes it as the most annoying thing to wake up to.

It’s a real shame that he’s used to this crow shit.

Clover, new to the bird shenanigans, asks the logical question, “Should we stop him?”

The first time James interrupted Qrow’s spiel, he made the impulsive and rude decision to fire his pistol in the air. Whether he spent a minute debating on aiming at either bird is a lapse in judgment James will keep to himself.

That resulted in both birds targeting James in the classic, enemy of my enemy is my friend tactic.

“If you’re eager to get pecked and clawed at, by all means go ahead Captain Ebi.”

It must be the lack of sleep that has Clover disregarding the chain of command to glare the general.

Clover steps passed him and made his way to the base of the tree. He yells up, “Qrow, please stop!”

James scoffs at the pleasantries. Qrow would always takes please as a challenge to further play up his antics. That and Qrow just loves to mess with James by getting a straight-laced man like him arguing with a bird. Glynda thought James as insane before Qrow revealed his magic trick.

Honestly that was more embarrassing than that time when James mistaken a regular bird as Qrow. That memory was more depressing than humiliating since it happened weeks after the Fall of Beacon.

He had really hoped Qrow visited him.

Any amusement left in James mellows out to curiosity as he watches Clover take up the mantle of persuading Qrow and the owl to shut up. Maybe Clover has better ways of words than James since eventually the owl flies off.

Qrow’s still in the tree. He flaps his wings in agitation and caws again.

“Qrow it is four in the morning,” Clover complained.

“Five,” James corrects as he studies the remaining stars above and the phase of the moon fragment.

He continues without missing a beat, “It is five in the morning! Get down here right now, please.”

Another fluttering of wings and then the crow glides down. He ignores Clover’s offered arm to land on his brown hair.

Yep that’s the Qrow James had missed.

“Clover,” James cocked his head a bit, gesturing for him to follow.

Carefully, the man walks with his general all the while balancing a bird on his head. Qrow squirmed around, shaping the strands into a fitting nest as James lead them to the closest communal kitchen. That just happened to be the one linked to the dorm assigned to Teams RWBY and JNOR.

This definitely promises coffee machines.

Almost instinctively, James goes through the motions of preparing three mugs of coffee. The beginning smells of it has Qrow shifting back into his human body, just as James predicted from the countless morning they did this.

And if memory serves, Qrow might not be entirely as human as he appears.

“So,” James politely begins like he always did, setting the mugs at the table, “what happened?”

A series of squawks and trills are the answer, along with Qrow dramatically waving his arms around like he still has wings.

James nods in key moments, letting Qrow rant in a language that, justified, he quite cannot comprehend.

Next to him, Clover is jaw slacken and can’t form a single thought as he bears witness to James and Qrow seemingly having a normal conversation over coffee.

Despite the obvious fact there are no pronounce-able words in the human tongue, of course.

“Wow that owl really said that to you?” James queried, a little dully but Qrow’s not going to call him out.

In fact the shapeshifter takes it as genuine, too caught up in his anger as he recounts the argument with the owl. Probably, James is just guessing but he’s had practice on reading Qrow’s body language.

There’s still that hunch in his spine, straighten up in his fury as more violent squawks leave his vocal chords. James once berated Qrow for such posture but that man never listened. He has to note that there is a difference in his stature since arriving with the kids.

Stress and grief always hung upon Qrow’s shoulders, mirroring James, but lately there has been less tension. This is likely the results of the kids’ influence. James can attest to that, finding relief and comfort in the children’s optimism.

Yet he can’t help but be pleasantly surprised by Qrow’s other source of happiness.

As arrogant as it sounds, James takes credit and pride for setting Clover in Qrow’s path. It’s about time one of his plans goes accordingly.

On a strategic perspective, both huntsmen are skilled fighters with styles that complement each other in the field. That’s proven correct from the success their mission reports.

But on a personal level and as their friend, James had high hopes the two of them would get along.

Both have their own grief and tragedies and struggles regarding the concept of partners, something James himself can also relate to. Qrow’s team was a story of fire constantly dying and reigniting while Clover’s lack of partner is a fable of the ocean’s tides claiming and withdrawing without a second thought.

An empty space of a partner is something they both want to fill back up, whether either would admit that or not. So James took it upon himself to appoint their team set.

Their unique semblances on the other hand are something he cannot speak for. That is private conversation for Qrow and Clover alone, James will not dare to interfere further on that matter.

He’ll just have to trust that whatever bond is growing between Qrow and Clover will be good for the both of them. It can grow from the heat of battle or the chill morning like right now where Qrow is currently far too nuzzled in his bird habits.

He focuses more into the bitter taste of coffee, enjoying its slowness compared to the rapid talk of Qrow’s trills. While he’s goes off about how much of an asshole the owl was, James notices Clover trying to get his attention through painfully confused facial expressions.

James hides a smile with his mug.

Subtly, something that Qrow won’t bother to care about, James shrugs in a way to show that this is pretty normal.

Clover still gives Qrow a concerned and baffled frown as more squawks are uttered.

A sort of cooing noise emits from Qrow’s throat. James flickers his eyes back to the bird man, crossed arm and waiting for his response.

Lying through his teeth, something that will for sure impress or anger Robyn Hill, James speaks with great certainty that he has been paying attention, “Yes, Qrow, I completely agree with you.”

Qrow nods in approval and this sets him off to rattle out more coos and clicks.

Meanwhile Clover stares dubiously at James, takes a long gulp of his coffee, and does a little shake of his head. A small sigh of defeat and resignation leaves the man.

Good, it’s best to accept this all.

Of all the insane things that could happen, having a conversation with a shapeshift still speaking as his namesake is a blessing compared to anything else Ozpin had a hand in.

Still, to Qrow this is a normal conversation so at some point in James turning off his brain to just drown out his mug, Clover is prompted to speak.

“Um,” he blinks owlishly with an uncertain smile, “I think…”

His teal eyes dart around, seeking help but James is ignoring them, closed eyed but the tiniest of amused smiles is there. Clover nearly wants to kick him underneath the table but no Clover can handle this.

Still, having Qrow’s red eyes peer into him expectedly is a bit nerve wracking.

Beautiful and bright, Clover admits but it’s not the time or the place what with only one cup of coffee in his system.

“I think,” he continues, a slight hesitance in his tone, “that um.” Well he could always fall back on one thing, “I think that you’re absolutely amazing. That owl has nothing on you.”

Apparently that is the right thing to say. Clover could kiss his lucky pin when Qrow blushes and does a low coo. Maybe it’s a deflection, Clover has no idea but it doesn’t appear so as Qrow continues his clicks and caws.

Then finally, Qrow takes a sip from his coffee and as if he hasn’t been speaking in chirps and clicks, complains, “That ratty flying piece of roadkill better not show his awful peak here again or I will bring down the full force of Harbinger on that fucker.”

His two companions nod in agreement, James’ was a bit lazier and tired while Clover’s was kind of jerky and surprised.

It’s so nice to have pleasant company in the morning.

#my fic #rwby fic #james ironwood #qrow branwen #clover ebi #bird shenanigans

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