#ipwriting

[dragynkeep]

honeysuckle.

no one on remnant was about to deny the well worn fact that taiyang was a heartthrob, he had been in his beacon days, evidently enough to pull raven and summer in succession, and yang had whispered rumours of uncle qrow being more than just friends too, with an exaggerated shudder and a grumble about how her father was too much of a dad to be hot.

blake couldn’t disagree any more with her best friend.

read the oneshot here.

nsfw content ahead !! this is a yellow jacket [taiyang / blake] smut fic containing various kinks including hard kinks, please read the tags before proceeding.

[dragynkeep]

ㅤㅤㅤ𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒚𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒖𝒎𝒔.

✨ characters : james ironwood, yang xiao long.

✨ ship : ironyang.

✨ kinks : check tags on fic.⠀⠀

✨ word count : 9434.⠀⠀

✨ link : https://archiveofourown.org/works/26271061

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[dragynkeep]

“when people look at me, they need to see someone they can trust. they need to see someone who’s strong.” the tiredness in james’ voice couldn’t help but to bleed through and it caused yang’s heart to thrum in sympathy. she knew what it felt like to always have to be the strong one. “if they saw me as i was . . . i would lose that trust. i’ve already lost too much.”

[dragynkeep]

“you’re beautiful.”

her heart stilled in her chest for a moment. people had called her many things ; sexy, bombshell, jaw dropper. bound to make all the boys and girls stare. they came less and less after she lost her arm and people became afraid of upsetting her, or just thought she wasn’t as sexy anymore. yang told herself she didn’t care, but honestly . . . she had. she’d felt like losing her arm had stolen everything from her ; her sunshine, her looks, her vibrancy. she was never vain enough to only care about her looks but the prosthetic, the jagged scarring around her arm had made her feel so ugly.

james told her she was beautiful.

[dragynkeep]

as james stepped aside, the blonde walked into the office, lilac eyes drifting down to trail over the intricate astrological designs carved into the floor, such a care bled into them that she couldn’t pull her gaze away. yang had always loved the stars. they were so far away from everything but were always consistent, always there. she could always look up and see the ursa, the royal star, the gods.

[dragynkeep]

“sum?”

a soft blink, pulled from her thoughts and oh — all eyes are on her. um. pale, freckled skin flushes easily in a warm red, a thing she had always hated so. summer was no blushing wallflower, she had a quick tongue and quicker mind and honestly? loved being the centre of attention. but in moments like this, more personal beyond the sunstone warm persona she put up, she wished for nothing more than to be alone.

“oh. well . . .”

how do you phrase i scream out someone’s name when they’re about to die in a way that won’t make others recoil in fear? see her as some sort of banshee, an omen? gazes don’t avert and uncomfortable heat prickles along her skin, familiar and thankfully not at the same time.

fingers pick at the frilled edge of her skirt before she shifts, head dipped some. summer sun wilting away to a dusk.

“it’s officially categorized under precognition but  —  it’s more than that. i . . .” brothers, she couldn’t do this. she’d just been put in this team, her team, and now they were going to push her away for something she couldn’t control. it was all so bitterly unfair. to summer’s horror, she felt the familiar sting of tears in corners of wide eyes.

small preview of the summer solo, ft. summer’s banshee semblance & babey strq bonding.

[dragynkeep]

she hadn’t paid too much attention until she saw a glint of metal and blonde eyes furrowed, blinking before taking a second look. oh. “your hand, it’s —”

“like yours? it is.” there was a hint of discomfort in the general’s voice, despite the softness that carried the rest, clearly meant to keep her at ease. comfortable. yang felt a pang of guilt for pointing it out so bluntly, knowing she hated the feeling of people’s eyes consistently fixated on her own prosthetic, the way they never seemed to stop staring until they felt they were going to be judged for it. only by others though, never by yang. her arm was up for all to consume, to stare in awe or wonder or interest. she didn’t want to put that onto someone else. soft clink of the porcelain spout of the teapot tapping against the tea cup stilled those thoughts, for the moment. “it’s okay to stare, yang.”

he never called her yang. just miss xiao long, so formal and careful.

“i, i just didn’t know. you never . . . y’know, show it off.” why? the following question was implicit but james only smiled, gesturing for her to sit in the chair aside from the desk which yang did. once she was sat comfortably, james held out the teacup for her to take before leaning against the desk.

[timetravelingsupersleuth-blog]

You can try but do you honestly think that that nanosecond gap between 2012 and 2013 can change the person that you are? Because if you can change at all you could have already done so but you're still here hitting your head and guiltily clenching your teeth every time you throw a sarcastic comeback or shrug indifferently so you lose people again despite promising that this time you will be kinder --- you know you have to be kinder --- but you just can't help yourself. I'm not suggesting that you give up. I'm saying that becoming a better person is a journey that doesn't time-keep. You earn it piece by piece, gradually, until you completely step out of the gray area if you can go that far at least. It happens sooner to some people, at 3am tomorrow or six weeks from now maybe, and to others later, much later, but it will be just as beautiful. As for tonight's strike of midnight, however, chances are you'd still be in the same love-hate relationship with your half-shitty self, and that's perfectly okay. The fireworks will be lovely just the same.