Happy Fairgame weekend!!! Sometimes they’re both models. And sometimes Clover is also a designer and shows everyone that his husband is amazing and stunning through some very nice clothes. The line announcement just happens to not have Qrow in them…or anything… Edit: important note that might not be obvious enough- Clover has top surgery scars
Because I’m poor and cannot draw, I’m writing gift fics for my friends this holiday season! Cin’s got done first, there’s at least four more coming, and they will all be posted on this RWBY fanfiction sideblog!
Happy holidays, @emberworn!
Check this story out on ao3!
The mid-morning sun had already begun to warm the room when they'd awakened, soaking through the heavy curtains over the window. Surely, the young one down the hall would be awake by now, but that was fine. They'd join her in the land of the living by at least noon.
Slim, alabaster fingers combed carefully, lovingly, through burgundy feathers, the phoenix's wings ruffled by the goings-on of the night before, and by the deep. restful sleep that had followed it. Stubble scratched against an exposed shoulder, and teeth scraped lightly against her neck.
She tilted her head to the side, closing the space he'd had to attack her neck and nudging his face away. "Ah, don't get distracted. You're partially to blame for the shape they're in: you get to fix them."
"Y'know, this'd be a lot easier for me if you'd stop moving," he pointed out. "Just sayin'."
"I have faith in you." Her reassurance was half joking, spoken through a playful half-smile as she continued to braid her hair over her shoulder.
She was answered by a raspy chuckle as the presence behind her shifted, two hands on her wing now to straighten the disturbed feathers. After a moment of silence, he spoke again. "I think Ruby's adult feathers are finally growin' in."
"Are they?"
"Her wings are lookin' less downy lately. Way less fuzzy."
The phoenix's amber eyes seemed to glow golden above a bright, proud smile, and her fingers paused in their braiding for a minute. "Well, she's almost eighteen. She's an adult now. So it seems our little chick will finally start looking like her father soon."
"Tch. Not if her stepmother can help it. You'll have to show her how to keep her wings looking so glossy. Gods know I can't teach her that."
Though they were impressive, the corvid's own wings were also usually in a constant state of neglect. Nothing like the usually-perfectly-groomed feathers beneath his fingertips. His were often looking more than a little ragged, they were normally more than a bit dusty, and he was almost always sporting at least one torn or broken primary. Partially from work, partially from his unfortunate semblance: she couldn’t recall every having met another winged Faunus who got caught in doors quite as much as he did. Not at his age, anyway.
As if to agree with what he said, his wings fluttered, sending a slight breeze forward and disturbing the hair that the phoenix was trying to braid. Several stray hairs escaped the previously-flawless braid, fluffing outward messily.
Several heartbeats after they both realized the disturbance, he sighed. "... gonna make me fix that too?"
She chuckled, stretching the wing in the corvid's grasp to give him more room to work. Its twin spread out on the other side to match, highlighting the grooming that still had yet to be done. She wouldn't mind a little bit of extra pampering before they shuffled out of their bedroom to greet the day, fashionably late or not.
Qrow hadn’t meant to fall asleep with his wings out. It just felt so nice to have his wings spread out for once, and it made him comfortable enough to actually fall right asleep, unlike when his wings were hidden underneath his shirt.
So when the door was flung open, Qrow shot awake, desperately searching for his shirt. Well, fuck him, there was no going back now.