D.Gray-Man 1. Chapter 1

**Snapdragons **by **Yofune-Nushi**

**Disclaimer**: Hoshi owns the man series.

**Summary:** Snapping, gracious, deception, and strength. They are the Generals.

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**~Critical~**

Innocence hitting the critical was very much like the motion of snap in the quickest of speeds that no one had time to respond to its first greeting. The echoes that followed after rippled and flowed in and out in such a way that the host to it all for one infinite time felt impotent and aware of all desires and requiems of themselves.

Numbers, they say, of all kinds appeared. And Innocence collected it all as if it finally could reach the power it deserved as its host and it were finally together in embracement.

The snapping was different for each of them.

Klaud Nine had buckled and kicked her body like a stallion refusing to be whipped for something it believed it had no wrong in. Her mind was frantic and her instincts, which had always been the driving force of her state of being, were pure and without second thought.

A thing most humans would find terrifying and so lost. Not being able to know or act on anything besides your very instincts to deal with the present, not knowing anything about the past or future that could help.

But to Klaud Nine, she relished it like a lioness lapping up blood from her fresh kill and knowing without reason or cause to believe that she would be able to do this again another day.

Instincts, normally humans couldn't possibly understand this. At least not in the place of the fight for ones own survival. To be able to involve yourself so deeply in the fight without losing the stability of your psych during and after every struggle; it was the state of mind and soul that very few could possess without breaking down like a broken bird who could never take flight as gracefully as it once had.

Klaud breathed…

_Lau Jimin… I apologize for taking so long…_

The woman had no second guessing, no future plans; just a feeling for why she was standing and who would not be by the end of this match.

And she made complete sense to herself.

Froi Tiedoll's eyes had blurred and suddenly the world was white with the threats of going completely black without even bothering to morph into the tones of grays. Blurs flew and objects dispersed. Suddenly, as the screams of his comrades silenced after their wavering eyes failed them to the enemy. Froi found himself remembering what it felt to see color and run it through his fingers with all its bumps, curves, and smoothness.

His fingers were broken, his legs were scarred with numbness, and he was unable to sense anything other then the fact that his oppressor was looming overhead with authority.

Color, he needed color. The world was just so stagnant without it. Having no color meant not having the ability to see the truth of his desires and philosophies.

He was a creator, not a victim. He would create his own life and death and like a masterpiece belonging to no era and yet touching everyone that felt the breath of what he had a hand in creating.

_You and I…am, Maker of Eden…. _

A light so different from the blinding whiteness of before bloomed like a spring flower and quickly he knew the scream that had been echoed only a moment before had not been his.

And among the pale colorless corpses of victims who used to be comrades, Froi stood tall as the most brilliant colors radiated all around making him look like a timeless artwork that only that greatest of hands and minds could fathom.

Winters Socalo had, ironically, the most gentle of critical awakenings among his generation.

A rebel they say, a outcast who hated rules and despised being caged; one who never cared for standard protocols or the preaching's that dominated the church.

Those who said such things couldn't exactly be called wrong.

But he was a fighter in the most natural sense that others who claimed to be warriors in the war looked like babies in need of milk still instead of solids for those who were ever growing and learning what it meant to be true.

Power coursed through his blood and his muscles stretch and twitched, but he felt no real pain. No the fault he felt within himself was losing the struggle to fully open the door to his potential. He knew what he wanted, but he did not know how to achieve it. He hated being locked and harnessed like a machine that could only work when pushed by another.

But, something tugged, not painfully. For Winters, pain was something he had come to acknowledged as one might a destined rival. It existed as something to move you, but never would you want to lose to it. The insistent tugging took almost all his strength and left his mind tired, and stubborn. Something he needed was not moving, even if that something wanted him as well.

His energy dimmed, and he stopped. Nothing happened and Winters Socalo realized the one tugging had been him. Not another force; a force that had been placing its foot on top of a bone in order to keep the angry dog from consuming too much. The force would never hit the dog, but it wouldn't let it get in over its head until it was trained to be what it was meant to be in order to be strong and smart with its life.

He massaged his weapon and relaxed his jaw as blood from his index finger slid down in an unnaturally straight line.

He placed a harness upon himself, one that did not feel heavy but weightless. He almost expected explosions, but instead an action akin to a sweep of wings overhead brushed by as it caressed all around him. Something unlocked and in his hands he felt a form he would call his own a merge.

_Double Sword… Fitting…And about time. _

Winters grinned appreciably with blood soaked teeth as flesh and blood burst and exploded in his path as screams of horror and death choked all around him.

Cross Marian's and Kevin Yeegar's critical awakening were ones no one save Hevlaska knew of. For either no one had witnessed it, or those who had had passed on already.

Yeegar, because he was so old and had been with the Order for so long it seemed he was a relic that was forever moving instead of being still. If any one would ask, not that anyone would for a critical awakening was a private and personal thing. Yeegar would have said it had been like competing in a race for the first time where you ignore all obstacles and threats and continued on despite it all because what was important was not only reaching the end but the way you did eventually reach it.

Cross Marian was a man everyone had heard of but no one truly knew. His secrets were his own and his face was frozen like a broken figure upon the church's glass stained walls that looked complete as untouchable no matter what angle you approached from.

Three days later after Hevlaska had announced, Cross had been found sitting on top of a chained dirt covered coffin holding a large Gun and donning a smile so pure and dazzling it looked like the abyss would engulf all that dared against it. No one could look upon or ask about the alien expression dancing with cunning glee on a man who proudly had proclaimed the Devil as his only confidant now.

Who he had meant by as the Devil, only God knew and so it would stay that way.

Legends had told of a Maria, once. A voice of heaven so magnificent it would transcend time itself and wrap all up in her song of all that was and would be that the Earth out of jealously cursed itself with scorn by trapping the endless singer in a body made of it's soil so never again would it sing her vibrations above the heavens where the Earth could not feel it.

Legends, just legends; she quickly was lost in time and only a frozen corpse of soil that still refused to release her voice back to the heavens remained. Some nights humming could be heard but mostly that ended in death so no one really every truly paid attention to the voice so muddled and without song.

Something the man who still carried her somewhat regretted during the nights without humanity when the moon was subtle and the clouds could still be seen shying around as the stars of the heavens didn't look so shiny from Earth.

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**Notes***

The Generals are such interesting characters that it's a shame they are not given more thought in the series or fandom. Originally this was going to be longer. But I thought this was a good place to stop incase I wanted to update more little oneshots on them with more thoughtfulness.

Also I have no idea if Maria had ever been a General (Allen's proven being critical doesn't always mean you are a General) since her backround is so vauge and no one really talks about her. But I wanted to include her at least just in case.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Hobbies**

**By: Yofune-Nushi**

**Disclaimer: Hoshino owns the man series.**

**Characters**: Winters and Froi

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"I'm not posing for you on purpose so stop giving me that look that you know I see."

"The best poses are the ones not purposely given. So I have no idea what you are talking about."

Winters continued to scrub the filth out of the hilt of his double sword with a cloth having been soaked in the cold river nearby. Froi sat at a small distance with his ever convenient traveling canvas and paint board in hand that no one ever really knew where they kept coming from no matter where the man was.

Froi softly applied darks and gave quick, but concerned, detail to the scars on the man's body in his portrait as he quickly danced his brush here and there knowing his time was not known since the man could leave at any time.

"Don't even get started Froi." The scarred man's gruff tone caught off the chirping of birds that had flocked to the serene area, fully knowing what went on in the obsessive compulsive's head when it concerned his hobbies from years of experience. "You practically have a photographic memory. So even if I do leave you'd still have that freakish neurotic obsession for detail to finish your crap. So don't nag about it in the future."

"My, my, this crap as you put is a creation of my feelings and thoughts of the world around me. I find natural wonder with this art…Winters I've run out of red could you lend me some."

Winters snorted in disgust, but used his double sword to slide along his skin to reopen a new scar and waited until a pool of blood formed a bubble on the blade. He faced the double blade towards the older man who delicately soaked the substance into his brush with a hum for thanks before applying it to a part of the painting.

"Does that even work?" Winters didn't really care to know, as any answer the man would provide would be stupid or insane on some level.

"Work with what you can, even if it is crude anything with a good touch can become animate in the eyes of others."

But on other times it could be more amusing in some way to see that the man was probably more insane then the lot of them.

"Winters I need more."

"I'm leaving; use one of your own brats as a paint donor."

"I could never do that to my children….I'll always have you for that."

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**Notes***

My attempt at writing a piece on Froi and Winters just chilling out. I know, I felt strange to.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** SnapDragons

**Author:** Pup-Ashbless

**Fandom:** D Gray Man

**Disclaimer:** I do not own D Gray Man

**Characters:** Winters, Klaud, and Tiedoll.

**Summary:** One glimpse into the moments between the Generals and their students.

**Warnings:** Sorta slight spoilers from recent chapters for the Tiedoll part.

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**~Students~**

"I'm investing my time in you…so by the end of this year…Tell me what will you be?"

"…Experienced?"

"No. Again."

"Ready."

"For what?"

"War."

"In what way?"

Uncomfortable silence.

An aggravated sigh.

"You will be complete you worthless pup."

"…"

"You will not know how to live until you have known what it is like to die, you heard such crap?"."

"Yes…"

"Well that's the best crap you'll ever hear in your life." The scarred man, as usual when not on the battlefield, was calm and even, barely showing more emotion then needed.

Still, the less experienced exorcist, feeling as though he had been yelled at, stopped himself from wincing.

"I have died, and I have lived more times than your pathetic mind can comprehend. I never liked either and I don't care enough to let it turn me into some pathetic awkward wuss who can't even take charge of a pansy. I live, only to follow my desires. But I also threw my lot in this godforsaken organization of my own free will because I bloody knew the alternatives. This circus show is not up for entertainment; there is no excuse for not being able to know your place. By the time I'm done with you, you better know just how committed you are to my time and the choices you've made whether or not you care anymore for why it is your here. Because if not, than save my time right now throw yourself into the abyss because I can do a lot better than what you've shown me."

A soft voice, the scent of lilac, a warm place; the younger exorcist grimaced and swallowed the bile and was ashamed of the fact he could only meet the eyes of his superior halfway.

"I know why I'm here, General, I will not forget your teachings nor will I waste your time."

The General's face was masked by his armor and the younger exorcist felt he could face this man a lot better if only it didn't feel like he was looking into the face of that cursed Innocence instead.

"See to it, I will never acknowledge death to the very end. I expect the same of you and all the others. Now our pep talk is over. Do. Not. Ever expect another one. Again. I hate having to talk to bloodless whelps like you more than I have to."

The younger exorcist had no idea that had been, what appeared to be his first and, thankfully, last pep talk from the man.

Still, even though the uniform felt a little heavier and his chest still stung, Suman walked after General Winters who's face did not even need to be in view to see the calm, deadly precise, wickedness rear up from the depths from the bigger man as the battle was about to commence.

The rain would certainly bleed red tonight.

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Klaud does not always let herself be anything but a soldier these days.

She has fought hard in various ways in life and has her own share of scars, both physical and emotional, to carry.

But scars are all they are; Klaud has burned away the openings of any wound till it bleeds no more because she knows better than anyone that nothing attracts a predator like wounds that are still bleeding.

But when Tina, her so very young pupil, is crying late one night from the fact that she has finally forgotten her Mother, Klaud pats the young girl's head and silently lets Tina have one final cry before Klaud will order, never again, and dry Tina's tear stained face with the sleeve of her own shirt before putting the young girl back to bed.

Klaud is a soldier, a strong one at that. But she is also a woman, whom in the times when she is not sharpening the instincts to survive in her pupils, she is proud she can be a nurturer the only way a woman can.

Klaud does not always let herself be anything but a soldier; but Klaud is proud during the small rare times when she can be a mother.

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These steps would be taken with different paces; one by one would be a start Tiedoll thinks as he observes the young one.

"I have not been an exorcist long, not as long as you have, but I have fought akuma and raised children before-"

"I'm not your kid-"

"So I can teach you things-

"Old man-"

"And be there for you to make sure you grow up into a strong, good, and well balanced adult-"

"Saying shut up would go over your head-"

"I'm like your Father now I suppose." Tiedoll added, thinking of how he would need to teach this boy, who was actually his senior in one way, how to not only stay alive, but live.

Yuu was staring at him like an artist being told to capture the essence of a snail and slug having mating ritual in their next painting.

"It means," Tiedoll's patient nature, which he had a feeling would be his only ally with the troublesome teen years, shined through again as he was prepared to stay up all night repeating it if he had to. "I love you."

Yuu's eyes widen and he gaped. The reply came as though he were enunciating so harshly that it impressed Tiedoll on how well the boy's speech patterns could be.

"You didn't give birth to me!"

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**Notes***

Tina's actually not an OC for those who don't know. If my memory serves me right, Tina was one of Klaud's pupils that died before an actual appearance in the series.


End file.

D.Gray-Man