Disclaimer: Based on an idea by Keena-Kapu on the Elderburnin' server! Genderfluid!Yang and Trans!Winter AU.
It started out innocuous enough. After the war with Salem wrapped up, there were plenty of places in Remnant which needed help, and Winter gladly went where she could to provide assistance. In the process, she spent more time with her sister, and her sister's new friends- her newfound family. Ruby- the team leader, the optimist, the sweet summer child- had the sort of cheer that could be infectious but also grating on the nerves after long exposure. Blake- the penitent one, the lost traveler finding her way out of the woods, the brooding shadow- possessed the sort of will forged from broken iron, hammered into a new shape by countless mishaps and always a bit too close to another for comfort, but with a soft side that seemed to come out whenever Weiss was near. Yang- the raging inferno, the patient supportive foundation, the perpetual best friend- carried herself like she'd tripped and fallen and stumbled hundreds of times and knew the ground could give out at any second but trudged on regardless with relentless persistence. She did it with a smile, sure, but behind that lurked something a little darker, a shadow that preyed on the edges of her mind.
That's what drew her in, first; she recognized that shadow- or thought she did, at any rate. Although she'd made fantastic strides in accepting and utilizing her prosthetic as naturally as her other arm, there were still moments where her left hand would twitch and tremble, when her right would grip too hard or soft, when exhaustion or some other manner of distraction allowed her to lapse into habits that were eighteen years in the making before abruptly being ended. On occasion, she also had dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn't slept- nightmares plaguing her whenever the smell of blood sat too heavily in the air.
Winter did her best to help. Yang meant a lot to Weiss, and thus a lot to her… until her friendship with Weiss became the secondary tie they shared. The elder sister found herself falling in love with Yang's stubbornness, with her sheer determination, with her staunch loyalty and the way her faults just made those qualities shine brighter. She watched as Yang dug deep within her heart to accept Blake's apology and truly forgive her, as she weathered dark mutterings regarding the televised events of the Vytal Festival, and as she worked harder than anyone to set the world right, rarely asking for help and assuring Ruby she could handle any task thrown her way.
Luckily, Yang seemed to find something in her, too. As they wrapped up aiding Remnant's recovery, the whole lot returned to Vale to rebuild Beacon to its former glory, and they had some downtime to explore. Not only a city reborn but each other, over large dinners with the others and then through smaller meetings with just the two of them. They became comfortable and, ultimately, Winter posed the question she'd been contemplating for a week: should they try dating.
In the next moment, she saw Yang's entire being light up brighter than ever before, and for the first time in a few years, she had a girlfriend. Everything seemed to be going perfectly.
But then she started… noticing things. As the reconstruction of Beacon finished up, they had less to do, aside from formal events to celebrate and reforge bonds between the kingdoms. As those directly involved in the conflicts, who better to oversee the process? And with Blake as the daughter of Menagerie's current Chieftain and the original founder of the White Fang, it proved to be the perfect time to enact wide sweeping changes across all of Remnant. Weiss and Blake took to the task with vigor and Ruby offered what she could in terms of support.
Yang, on the other hand… half the time, she looked perfectly at ease. Chatting with a pleasant little smile on her lips, turning phrases with expert grace- even if they usually ended in puns, which brought groans and eye rolls from others, they made Winter laugh- and cutting through tension like a hot knife through butter. Almost as if she belonged there.
The other times, however… no one else seemed to find anything remiss. She still smiled and chatted and joked, but Winter had caught the little fidgeting motions- her dress didn't sit the way she wanted, her bra, the heels she wore hurt- and the occasional, brief frown and pinched brow, as if she was only putting up with the whole affair. A moment's delay in a response, as if biting back something else.
At first, she chalked it up to fatigue- even one born among such repetitious and extravagant parties would ultimately chaff at it- but she'd started to discount that theory as it occurred to her it didn't just happen when they were at those formal affairs. Sometimes, they'd be at Yang's apartment closer to the new Beacon grounds or at Winter's down by the docks, and the motions would resurface, the expressions, and a sincere assurance that the woman's presence wasn't bothering her in the slightest, Yang enjoyed her company, she wouldn't dream of chasing her off.
The concerns persisted, though. Even as Winter climbed the steps to Yang's apartment, key in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, she worried something was troubling her girlfriend and she needed to get to the bottom of it. A bouquet of snapdragons and lilies rested in the crook of her elbow and, if she'd timed it right, she'd be slipping in just as her girlfriend began cooking dinner- something she loved to do most of the time. An offer to help might give them both tasks to focus on while she tried broaching the subject.
However, as she drew closer to the door, she could hear… what sounded like talking. Actually, more like shouting, varying from sharp bursts of anger to longer, gloating laughter, but all at a pitch much lower than Yang's voice. Yet, coming from inside her apartment.
Perhaps she had a friend over? What was his name… Sun? Neptune? There were others who'd helped fight and many of them Yang considered friends; perhaps she'd opted to entertain guests seeing as Winter wasn't due back from Atlas until tomorrow.
It might be best to come back later… then again, stopping by to let her girlfriend know she'd gotten back a day earlier than planned would be rather nice. Just poking her head in, leaving the wine and flowers, and allowing Yang to return to her plans- maybe she could get a kiss before heading back to her apartment.
Sliding the key into the lock, Winter opened the door, now able to clearly hear every shouted word as the TV blared with half a dozen sounds that were just fake enough not to elicit a reaction but clearly mimicking the hail of gunfire and dying cries of beowolves and ursa.
"He's on the right, the right- your other right!" The voice- deeper, frustrated at present, certainly seemed familiar, but she couldn't put a face to the sound nor a name. With furrowed brow, she continued into the living room, coming to a dead stop in the entryway. "Dude, come on, would you-"
Lilac eyes must've caught movement, flashing her way for a moment before they went wide and returned, the game on the screen completely forgotten as Yang's mouth fell open. A half eaten ready meal sat on the coffee table next to two empty beer bottles and a third almost halfway gone. Blonde hair was gathered back into a low ponytail at the nape of Yang's neck, dark jeans of a much different cut than she usually wore covered her legs, and a black tank top put toned arms on display… but it also made it rather obvious that she wore something beneath it- not a bra, certainly, as her chest seemed to be… a bit more… flat seemed to be the only accurate descriptor.
If Winter really had to put a word to it, Yang looked a lot more masculine than usual.
"Uh…" Panic flashed in lilac eyes. "I, uh, I gotta go, guys." The pitch varied, going between the deeper tenor she'd heard on her approach to the living room and something much closer to the speaking voice Winter had become familiar with. "N-no- I just, I gotta go."
With a sharp tug, the jack connecting headset and controller was yanked out of its port, allowing voices to come through the television speakers.
"Aaaand, he disconnected his headset, great."
With a curse, Yang tried to exit out of the game, which seemed independent of the voices.
"What's with him? He usually doesn't bail on us like that."
"How're we supposed to beat this level now? He was our best tank!"
Another curse.
"Maybe it's his mythical girlfriend-"
Finally, silence filled the room as Yang exited out to the home screen on the gaming system, staring at the screen while obviously trying to find some way to explain the situation.
"I-I was going to tell you." The words came out stilted, shifting back to the pitch she usually associated with the blonde. "It just… never seemed like the right time. But I- I was going to tell you… that I'm…"
Silence stretched between them until Winter gently broke it, a pain gripping her heart. "That you're… what? Considering transitioning?"
"What?" Yang's brows furrowed for a moment before realization dawned. "No! No no no, I mean- no, I'm not- I don't want to- I just…"
Well… that wasn't exactly an encouraging reaction, but she kept her expression smooth regardless, watching as the blonde metaphorically flailed, trying to grasp the right words.
"Look, there are some days… some days when I feel very… femme." Yang made a vague gesture. "I mean- I can wear dresses and heels and feel pretty, I have boobs and I love 'em, and I don't mind being viewed as a woman… but then there are other days where I just… really hate it." Lilac eyes moved away, focusing on the nearly empty beer bottle instead. "There are days like- like today where I… I feel masculine, and I want to kick back in my boxers and watch sports and yell at the TV, or- or play video games all day and drink beer. A-and then there are other days when I… just don't feel either- I feel like neither, something else." Blunted fingernails came up to scratch at the hollow of the blonde's jaw and it suddenly occurred to Winter why those press on french tips might be so appealing. "It's- it's called being genderfluid. I don't- I don't wanna transition, but I change how I represent my gender based on how I feel."
She waited, expecting for more to come, but when lilac eyes flashed her way, she realized all too late her mistake.
"You… you don't approve. I don't blame you-"
"Don't put words in my mouth," Winter replied, trying to soften her tone to offset the abruptness. When Yang looked her way, she offered a small smile. "Do you… have time for a story?"
"Uh, sure?"
With a nod, she set the flowers and wine down on the coffee table, straightening out her jacket to buy herself some time. She'd never spoken the words out loud before but she knew every detail by heart… and perhaps saying them was long overdue.
"My father's a terrible human being, you know," she said, admittedly distracted by some residual anger clinging to her soul. "Growing up, he had very strict expectations of me. He wanted an heir fit to assume his position and he felt the only way to do that was to make me exactly like him." She made a few gestures with her hands- small, controlled ones, not wanting to let her anger get the better of her. "So he pushed me. I had to act like him, talk like him, dress like him. For a while… I was the perfect heir, playing exactly the part expected of me. But it was only so I could get what I wanted." She turned her head away and paced, unsure if she could watch the blonde's expressions while connecting the dots. "I realized early on that I wasn't like my father- or Whitley, after he was born. I didn't feel right- and not just because the words coming from my mouth weren't my own. It went deeper than that." She stopped, back turned towards Yang. "For years, I siphoned away lien from the funds he provided me. A little bit, week by week, but at the end, more than enough for what I wanted. When I was eighteen, I saw a doctor and began hormone therapy. Grew my hair longer, and became very adept at providing excuses for the pitch of my voice, my strange appetite, my disappearing at a specific time every day. Weiss was fourteen- I trained her in secret, gave her the tools she'd need to leave that horrid place, because while Whitley and I were in father's good graces through the virtue of being born like him, Weiss… wasn't, and she suffered for it." Slowly, she turned back to see shock and a heartbreaking sort of empathy in Yang's expression, shoulders slumped. "I could've been more subtle, in the end. I could've waited, could've done more to avoid the inevitable fall out. But the moment the doctors gave me the green light, I had top surgery. I didn't need to do it that way- but, at the same time, I did. For my sake, I needed it, and damn the consequences." Subconsciously, she reached up and traced the scar on her left side through the cloth. Sometimes, she'd catch sight of them in the mirror after a shower, and the niggling doubts would resurface briefly before she forcefully stamped them out. "Father was livid. He disowned me- he might've killed me, if he thought he could get away with it- and revoked my heir status. In the end, General Ironwood saved me, and Weiss. It's a debt I can never repay."
"How?" Genuine curiosity- not horror or disgust, which she took to be a good sign.
"By publicly praising my transition and crediting my upbringing with instilling within me the sort of courage necessary for people living in this day and age- made spectacle of how Schnees could be more than the financial backbone of Atlas but true heroes- soldiers and huntresses. It forced my father not to officially disown me, because how could he face the public backlash after Ironwood had endorsed me? And how could he keep Weiss from Combat School when over half the country thought we could be their salvation?" She let out a bitter chuckle. "It's ironic, isn't it? That the very social moores that had stifled me for so long could also be my saving grace." She shrugged inelegantly, somewhat at a loss for what to say next. "So now, here I am. That's how I came to be the woman standing before you… and it's why I say this." Walking over to the couch, she sat down- far enough so Yang wouldn't feel crowded, but within arms' reach. "I don't know what you're feeling; our experiences are very different, but we share some common threads. So, please, believe me when I say that I am sincerely disappointed in myself for not addressing this with you earlier, for not picking up on the signs. I'm sorry for every time I've called you the wrong thing; it must've hurt you, and it's my fault for not realizing that sooner."
"You couldn't have known," Yang said, tentatively reaching out to lightly grasp her hand. "I- I'm really good at hiding, when I wanna be. I mean, Ruby only found out two years ago, and she's lived with me almost all my life." A pause, a bitten lip. "But… is 'Winter' your…"
"I elected to retain my name through my transition." She smirked. "I like to think of it as claiming it, making it my own, and depriving my father of yet another of his possessions. I know it drove him insane being forced to address me by the name he picked out, knowing it now applied to a daughter, not a son." Squeezing the hand in hers, Winter tilted her head. "But that was my decision. What about you? Do you go by different names?"
"I, uh, I haven't… really had the chance?" Yang chuckled, shaking head sending blonde locks falling from the low ponytail. "I… don't go out very often on my non-femme days. When I do, and someone asks me my name, I usually panic and just say 'Yang' out of habit."
"It's an option to consider, but you needn't make any decisions now." Winter felt a bit of relief flood through her at the way Yang seemed to be relaxing, reverting to a more laid back posture. "Am I correct in thinking today might be a masculine day for you?"
"Uh, yeah, I- I have a system." He pointed towards his hair. "I just- usually, I like wearing my hair down or in a cute style on femme days, and back in a ponytail or braid on masc days. And on the other days- the non-binary ones, I like wearing beanies or hats. I figured, ya know, that might be a pretty easy way to tell." For a moment, he bit his lip, squirming in his seat. "Is… it okay if I… um, my voice is-"
"Do what you must to feel comfortable, Yang," she said, scooting closer and leaning against her boyfriend's side, opting to reassure him in whatever way existed to her. "For one, because this is your apartment, and for another, because I want you to be happy."
"Thanks." He replied, clearing his throat and speaking, his voice dropping with every word. "It took years to train my voice to do this, ya know, and I'm always so scared someone would be able to tell. But it's- it's not like- I dunno."
"It's not like you're trying to hurt anyone; you're just trying to be you." Winter leaned their heads together. "I understand. But Vale is much more accepting, and you needn't worry about the opinions of stuffy old curmudgeons like my father. They only scream so loud because they know in their very soul they're wrong, and it's all they can do before the end comes- make noise."
"How do you do that?" Yang smiled wide, sitting up a little straighter as everything weighing him down since she'd entered the room slid away. "How do you so effortlessly and flawlessly eviscerate people with words alone?"
"Years of practice, a lot of anger, and only a few outlets to vent it through," she replied, chuckling at her boyfriend's full bellied laugh. "By the way, now that I'm thinking about it, I thought you hate those frozen dinner plates."
"Huh?" He glanced at the coffee table and cringed. "Oh, right. Okay, I know this is going to sound dumb, but it's kinda like… guys don't usually cook, right?" Yang made a vague gesture towards the entertainment center. "I mean, this is the bachelor life, right? Drinking beer, playing video games, eating terrible frozen dinners- that's the stereotype." He paused, turning his head towards her and whispering. "Honestly, I hate that part of masc days."
Winter couldn't help but laugh, squeezing the hand in hers. "Okay, I understand where you're coming from, because for the first week after being discharged from the hospital, I wore bras and dresses as much as I could, medical advice be damned."
"Really?" Yang tilted his head. "But I thought you don't like dresses."
"You're absolutely right, I don't, but I could wear them." She shook her head. "I'm not sure if everyone goes through that phase, where it feels like conforming to stereotypical constructs of what it is to be a 'man' or a 'woman' is paradoxically liberating, given the freedom to indulge unabashedly in all the things that were denied us, but I certainly went through it; I got my fingernails painted every week, I did all sorts of things with my hair- I'm quite certain I overloaded Weiss with updates on the little tweaks to my appearance I'd made in those first few months." Winter sighed. "But then, when enough people recognized me as a woman without me having to perform all those stereotypes ad nauseum… I had the opportunity to find what I liked, and I kept what I did and discarded what I didn't. I don't like dresses but a modest heel on boots appeals to me. Very light make-up, but I love accenting my bust, which I'm sure you've noticed."
"I have," he replied immediately, prompting both of them to laugh. "I guess I never thought about it like that. Because, ya know, I like cooking. I do, it doesn't matter how I'm feeling gender-wise."
"Then cook." With a shrug, she made a gesture towards the television. "And if your friends try to make you feel like it's unmanly to cook for yourself, remind them that in an apocalypse situation where microwaves don't work, they'll be stuck eating cold ramen while you prepare a three course dinner."
With another laugh, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap, a nice little change of pace from usual- ah, no, not 'usual', because Yang had hidden parts away. They would need to relearn some things, together, before they had a 'usual' again, but Winter didn't mind. If anything, it seemed Yang was a bit more aggressive in his amorous pursuits on masc days, as evidenced by the lips pressing kisses just beneath her ear.
"Do you count as dessert?" He smirked up at her, and she felt a little relieved puns and jokes would apparently remain a constant. "Because I could eat you up about now."
"Tempting as that is, I may take you up on that later. For now, are you hungry? We could go out to eat."
Yang's expression fell a little bit, mouth opening for a moment before he thought better of it. "Are you sure?"
"Of course." Winter leaned over and kissed his temple. "Sometimes, I have a girlfriend. Sometimes, like now, I have a boyfriend. And sometimes I have a… uh-"
"Datemate."
"I have a datemate." Her expression softened. "But all the time, I want to go out with you, my precious Sundrop." She paused, considering. "Or we could order in, if you are against the idea."
"We can go out! Um, just nowhere fancy. I… don't really have the wardrobe for it." He frowned. "Or-"
"Say no more; let me handle that part." Getting up, she gestured towards the coffee table. "You may want to clean up while I assemble an outfit for you. And… hmmm, how do you feel about facial hair?"
"Uh, it's… kinda out of the equation, Snowdrift. I don't have any 'mones-"
"Not what I was asking."
"I mean… I always kinda thought I would look good with a goatee?"
"Excellent." She continued towards the bedroom, going to the closet and rifling through until she found what she was looking for- a nice button up with short sleeves that had hung awkwardly on Yang's frame while she had an impressive bust to consider. Now that the binder he wore had flattened it out some, it would look much better, and certainly up to standard for a simple trip to the fast food place five blocks over- a safe bet to be in public without drawing too much unwanted attention. They had another location just on the other side of Yang's apartment, so neither of them had much reason to go to the that one, and the caution would likely put him at ease. Before heading back to the living room, she swung by the bathroom and snagged some of Yang's make-up supplies. "That should do it."
"Should do what?" He raised a brow before worriedly eyeing her armful. "Uh, Snowdrift-"
"Trust me," she said, setting the various bottles and brushes down on the coffee table and climbing into Yang's lap, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I know a thing or two about contouring."
"Contouring?" Even on femme days, Yang didn't often indulge in much past a little foundation, if that. Yet, she had entire, untouched kits- presents bought by clueless others who figured any gal would like any make-up. A small, belated blessing, she supposed. "What's that?"
"It's where I rearrange the bones in your face through magic." Winter looked him over for a moment before nodding, reaching back to grab the foundation first, to prevent irritation. "Don't spread this secret around, though; someone might tell the church."
"Well, wouldn't want that, now would we?" He chuckled, falling silent as she got to work and resting his hands on her hips.
Although he didn't exactly appreciate being blasted in the face with hairspray, he didn't stop her, instead rolling his eyes and letting her first bring out the masculine features in his face, darkening his eyebrows and making his jaw seem more solid, stronger, and then she moved on to carefully applying a light blonde mascara around his mouth, sealing it again with hairspray.
"There." She drew back, inspected her work, and then nodded, climbing off his lap and directing him towards the bedroom. "I laid out a shirt for you. Put it on, and we'll go get some real food."
"Hey, what I cook is 'real' food." He chuckled, throwing a smirk over his shoulder. "I know it can be a little hard to swallow, but I'm the best cook in Vale!"
"Aside from Ren."
"He doesn't count; he's in Vacuo this week."
"Ah." She chuckled, watching him disappear into the bedroom and mentally counting down the seconds. When no noise came forth, and no boyfriend, Winter proceeded into the room, leaning back against the doorjam and watching as he stared, slack jawed, at his reflection in the little mirror hanging above his dresser, shirt only pulled over one shoulder. "I take it you like it?"
"Like it?" He turned to look at her, happy tears shining in his eyes as he smiled wider than she'd seen in weeks. "Snowdrift, I love it. Where did you even learn this magic?"
"I had to figure out how to fake a five o'clock shadow." Winter shrugged, blinking and nearly caught off guard as Yang closed the distance, scooping her up into his arms, his shirt still only half pulled on properly. "Hey!"
Any objection she might've had- which, honestly, she just wanted an explanation- died when lips pressed against hers, and she fleetingly acknowledged she would have to acclimate to the sensation of something scratching her chin while falling into a dance they'd done hundreds of times and hadn't changed at all, despite everything else that had.
"I love you, Snowdrift. Winter." He whispered the words when they broke apart but they were strong, just as strong as the arms holding her, lilac eyes shining with absolute adoration. "I love you."
"And I love you, my sweet Sundrop." She stole another kiss from his lips. "No matter what form you take."
He looked like an absolute love struck fool just then and Winter could honestly say he wore the expression rather well. Pulling away just enough, he offered his arm. "C'mon. I'm dying to go out with the prettiest lady in all of Remnant."
She smiled, slipping her arm through his. "My my, what a charming gentleman, but I do question how you could make so bold a claim. Have you seen all the ladies in Remnant?"
"I've only got eyes for you, Snowdrift." He leaned up and brushed a kiss against her cheek. "So, as far as I'm concerned, yeah. I have."
She chuckled, finding it hard to argue with his logic.