#➹ | she is a storm that never wavers - a fire that ended too soon ❞ ( m. Pyrrha Nikos )

[auratold]

so... is someone going to fill me in? (Weiss finding out Pyrrha's alive? O_O)

It's a relief to see Weiss again, even more so to witness team RWBY almost fully reunited. With the former heiress and Yang having found them in Mistral, only Blake was left absent from the adjacent team. Although Ruby had maintained a positive attitude despite the struggles their trek here had been decorated with, Pyrrha knew the absence of her own partner and teammates weighed heavily on the youngest huntress.

But despite the lift in morale the reunions had brought to them all, a great deal needed to be discussed. "Qrow found me on the tower and got me to help. I'm alive, but unable to join you all in fighting just yet."

[auratold]

She can see the exhaustion in his eyes, the way it coats his voice as well when he speaks. How long has he been at her bed side, waiting for her to wake?

Pyrrha lets him brush her hair from her face, the closeness of him is soothing. It’s a grounding reminder that they survived, that the chaos that had unfolded upon the school didn’t claim their lives along with so many others.

But it should have claimed her’s. She hadn’t gone up that tower expecting to leave it.

“I’m so sorry.” Oh how her chest aches as she utters the words, wether the pain from the wound or the pain of grief is worse, she can’t tell. There’s no way to apologize enough, no words that can capture it. She’d left him to go and fight a battle she knew she couldn’t win, but she’d had to try. Had to hope she could at least distract Cinder long enough.

“Ren and Nora… the others.” Pyrrha starts, her gaze never leaving her partner’s. “Are they alright?”

She’s exhausted, but after only just waking she can’t bare the thought of falling back asleep. Not yet. “How long has it been?”

"It's alright," Jaune whispered, exhaustion seeping through. He wasn't sure if it was really alright, but he didn't want to worry about that now. He just wanted to stay here, with her, in this moment, for as long as they could.

Gently, he brushed her hair back from her face, studying her for a moment. Brothers, he could just sit here and look at her forever. If only he could.

"Pyrrha... I was so scared," he said, shakiness in his voice betraying his emotions. He'd been terrified he would never see her again, get to hear her voice again. "I thought we were gonna lose you."

[444tsumu]

title Not His Type

rating ★ ★ ☆ nsfw content

word count 4,800+

warnings timeskip!mattsun, yes i’m writing that he still practices w the s4, anyways explicit content, matsukawa calls you a bitch, spitting, rough sex, spanking, mattsun fucks you in his car, oral sex (f!reader giving), don't be silly wrap your willy folks

author’s note thanks to @kansroji for forcing me encouraging me to write this self-indulgent mattsun fic, send her her flowers everyone bc this was just muah :*

summary Issei teaches you that the meaning behind the words ‘I hate you’ is a lot different from what you’re used to.

“God, do you ever shut the fuck up?”

“How could someone be such a bitch?”

“I don’t know Mattsun, you tell me.”

There are two things necessary to keep the world spinning on its axis: inertia, and the insatiable hatred between you and Issei Matsukawa.

No one quite knows where it came from. Maybe it was your lack of regard for his permanently disinterested personality, or maybe it was the insufferable habit you had of making a comment every time Matsukawa did as much as make a noise— whatever it was, it was a never ending cycle of pure repugnance.

His tone was light, yet knowing Iwaizumi, you knew it was wavering on a more strict tone you really didn’t want to hear today.

Oikawa watched the interaction between the three of you, eyes narrowing as he did something nobody appreciates from him: he started plotting.

Oikawa watched the interaction between the three of you, eyes narrowing as he did something nobody appreciates from him: he started plotting.

To you and Issei, the nature of your relationship was that there wasn’t one at all. There was nothing but an indescribable hatred that will never go away because you guys just physically can’t stand the other.

To everyone else though? In Hanamaki’s words, “you guys just needed to fuck and get it over with already.” Sexual tension couldn’t fill half of the void the storm you and Mattsun left after every exchanged word. It nearly swallowed the room, the only two not able to see it being yourself and the middle blocker.

With an inquisitive look on his face, Oikawa decided the only way to get rid of this long lasting rivalry being now or never. “My dear Y/L/N, bad news.”

The words brought you back down to Earth, making you bite down a glare at the bored man in front of you and turning towards the setter.

“As much as I’d love to be the one to take you home,” he winks at you, long arm reaching out to lightly press itself against your cheek and you already see where this is going, “I just can’t—”

“Tooru..” Your voice wavered the same way Iwaizumi infamously did.

“Seriously Y/N-Chan, I hate being the bearer of bad news..” The sparkle in his eyes made you clench your jaw to prevent the scream from slipping through your lips. “But I had almost promised Iwa-chan and Makki a ride today.”

You could hear the slick in his voice, and you absolutely hated it. You hated how you knew exactly what was being planned. You knew in Oikawa’s stupid little head, he was formulating a stupid little plan thinking things would work out in his own stupid little way.

“I’m not getting into that fucking asshole’s car—”

“Oikawa I will purposely crash if she as much as steps foot in my car—”

“Get your fucking feet off my dashboard.” You hear his voice growl, long fingers reaching in front of him to press the Start-Stop button on his car and get the engine running.

You didn’t mean to press a sock-covered foot onto it, it’s just that you needed to adjust the anklet resting against your skin. You hadn’t caught when his eyes glanced over at the diamonds either, remaining for a second too long to be appropriate and quickly force it’s way in front of him.

With a slightly exaggerated roll of your eyes, you threw your head against the headrest and stared through the window to your side. You were wishing there was an awkward silence to torture Matsukawa’s ears, but instead, his phone automatically connected to its Bluetooth and began to play a song you surprisingly recognized.

He drove faster than you were sure he was supposed to. As soon as you blinked, he had already backed out of Seijoh’s parking lot and sped through the secluded roads and towards the city you inhabited.

Unwillingly, of course, you managed to steal a few glances at the brown-haired man next to you. His face was (surprise) as uninterested as ever, eyebrows resting dully above his hooded lids and lips turned just slightly down enough to look like a frown. Every now and then, his lips would go along with the song and his tongue would swipe across his bottom lip and into the corner of his cheek.

Matsukawa wasn’t an ugly guy. There wasn’t enough hatred in your soul to even try to lie against the idea. He was extremely tall, extremely fit, had a nice smile, and his voice matched his looks. If he wasn’t such a stuck up, emotionless asshole, he’d probably be one of the hottest guys you’ve ever seen. If and probably, of course.

“Gotta staring problem?” He muttered, head bobbing to the song in the background and that in itself just brought your cholesterol an unhealthy amount higher.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I see you have a lack of vocabulary too..” The banter between the two of you went back and forth, an awkward silence retching the car’s air after he sadly had the last word.

“I can’t believe there was a time you weren’t such a nuisance.” You nearly mouthed, words quiet enough to get lost within the lyrics of Kanye West, yet loud enough to get into Mattsun’s earshot and cause the car to abruptly park on the side of the nearly secluded road ahead of you.

“Hey, what the fu—”

“What’s your problem with me?” Matsukawa’s words haunted the air, and if you weren’t already awaiting his words, you might have actually been scared of the harshness in his tone.

“Me?” You questioned, using a hand to dramatically smack against your chest and glare at him in disbelief. “What’s your problem with me?”

He didn’t respond, only staring at you blankly and gripping on the steering wheel with enough aggression to taint the knuckles of his large hands white.

“Stop acting like a toddler,” the annoyance looked weird on him, and his usual nonchalant attitude disappeared with a mask of pure frustration that you’d be lying about if you said was ugly on him, “just tell me what the issue is so we can both stop whatever the fuck it is we have going on.”

“We,” you pointed between the two of you, “do not have anything going on, for your information.” You stubbornly crossed your arms across your chest, staring at him blankly and watching his large hand run across his face.

“You wouldn’t even be my type, you know damn well that isn’t what—”

Every word after the first half of the sentence drowned out as you continued to repeat it in your head. You wouldn’t even be my type. You wouldn’t even be my type. You wouldn’t even be my type…

“Earth to Y/N.” Mattsun snapped, glaring over at you and leaning his body back lazily against his driver’s seat. It was slightly reclined back, the comfortability of his position insinuating he didn’t plan on leaving until this conversation got somewhere.

“What do you mean I wouldn’t be your type?”

The words came out faster than you could acknowledge them. You didn’t regret speaking them, but you knew that they only worsened your situation. He would use this as if it was fuel to his never-ending out of fire of an ego and you hated it. The cold air in the car suddenly became more noticeable, goosebumps raising onto your exposed skin and making you feel as if all your senses were being ambushed.

“Well, well, well…” He begins to tease as if he was never angry, his large arms resting behind his head and that stupid smirk back onto his pink lips, “you feel some type of way about what I said?” His voice echoed into your ears as you did nothing but watch him in disbelief.

“You never stood a chance with me anyways.” You bit back at him.

Something in the air changed, but neither of you decided to acknowledge it. It was dark, the light from the dashboard doing nothing but illuminating your features and making Issei smirk to himself in the lack of lighting.

“How so?” He was antagonizing you, itching for you to continue to play his little game back with him because he had a plan. You could see it from the way he lazily blinked over at you, smirk still against his glowing face with nothing but arrogance and faux oblivion.

“You wouldn’t be able to handle me if you tried.”

Those words changed the aura within the car all in itself. You knew the double entendres of a statement could go any way with him. Deep down, you both knew exactly what you meant. Your words remained solid though, eyes staring at him like a fox refusing to glance away from his brown irises.

“Wanna try me?”

You were playing a dangerous game, you knew that. Something about you didn’t care though. There were many ways this conversation could’ve went, but you wouldn’t expect it to go in this direction.

The air in the room was thick, Issei’s brown irises watching you nothing short of predator like. No one spoke after those three words, and faintly, the change in mood also affected the change in genre of music as R&B began to slowly play through his speakers. You wanted to scoff.

His large ring covered hand suddenly inched towards your chin, gripping your jaw and forcing your eyesight on his own face. You weren’t one to blush, but the roughness to his calloused fingers brought a small tinge between your slightly exposed thighs.

“You gonna get in the back or I gotta force you back there?” His words commanded you, the strictness laced within the confines of his voice leaving you no option to do as he told.

Doing what Matsukawa said as if you were following his orders was something foreign to you. The temptation of doing as you pleased crossed the back of your mind, but the curiosity of seeing what he had in store filled you with much more satisfaction.

Without a word and instead settling for a simple eye roll, you kicked your shoes off and found your way between the two front seats and into the cold leather seats of the back of his car. It was cramped, surprisingly cleaner than you'd imagine, and smelt of nothing but Issei.

You would have enjoyed it if the circumstances were different.

Your body sat with your feet resting behind you, leaving a space open for him. The sound of his car door opening and shutting was the cause of the goosebumps rising against your skin.

Subconsciously, you knew were supposed to hate him. You were supposed to despise him for always being such an asshole to you, and you were never supposed to forgive him for anything he’s ever said to you out of his stupid smirking mouth.

You weren't supposed to be hopping into the backseat of his car after challenging him into sleeping with you. You weren’t supposed to be enjoying the feeling of his presence as it finally found its way next to you, the dark tints of his windows hiding his expression but not doing a good job at hiding the bulge hiding in the confinements of his sweatpants.

Your eyes glanced over his, quickly switching between the tent and his irises with an innocent smile on your face. “You gonna take those off or am I gonna have to force them off you?’

Mattsun had never laughed at anything you’d ever said. At least, never to your face. For the first time though, a soft chuckle left his lips as he hunched his body over and rolled his sweats down. You’d be lying if you said you never wanted to provoke that sound out of him again.

He wore Supreme black briefs, a smirk on his lips as he watched your eyes trail over to the excessively large print. His dick was long, curving deliciously to the left and making you fear for your own safety. The thought of that nearly made you drool.

Mattsun made a show of pulling his briefs down, his erection springing to life and showing you that he wasn't even fully hard yet. Maybe you would’ve felt some type of way about not arousing him as much as he was you, and you could thank the pool inside your panties for that, but something about it brought a glimmer to your eye Issei couldn’t ignore.

“Eager to suck my dick, huh?” His words ring against your ears, and you do nothing but give him a glare while getting on all fours across the backseat.

His long torso leaned against the car door, eyes boring onto your frame with a blank expression that drove you insane. You knew this was all an act, he had to have been pretending just to get a rise out of you. There was no way you could’ve missed the way his dick twitched when you got up to take your shorts off.

Your frame was left in a white t-shirt and a seamless green pair of panties known for their cheekster style. He would’ve told you that you looked absolutely delectable, but he'd never let you sit within that satisfaction.

You lowered yourself on all fours once again, holding your hair back with one hand and lowering yourself down between his long limbs. Your eyes just couldn't look away, the large veins running up and down his perfect looking length in a way that made you embarrassingly ready to shove it down your throat already.

And without another word, you opened your lips and allowed a trail of saliva to sliver down the underside of his dick. His thighs tensed up, but as you watched him through your lashes while lowering your lips onto his tip, his bored and expressionless face remained the same.

He couldn't take his eyes off the sight in front of him, as much as he'd hate to admit it. Your ass was up in the air, back arched in a way that nearly made him release a groan as your pretty little mouth left sloppy kisses along his throbbing tip. You used a free hand to run down his cock slowly, hands landing underneath his thick balls and holding them alongside the bottom half of his dick.

He tried to hold the hiss you took out of him, but you used that as an excuse to make him suffer even more. Almost as if it were a competition, you sucked your cheeks in while taking the rest him that fit into your mouth agonizingly slow.

Matsukawa was too big, not that you were complaining. You didn’t have much of a gag reflex, but his size goes beyond that. So in order to accommodate to the situation at hand, you lolled your tongue out across your bottom lip and easily slipped a bit more than half of him down your throat until he felt his tip tickle the back of it.

“Holy fuck..” He breathed out, words stopping as he bit his lip and tilted his head to get a better look at you.

Your eyes began to water, but you ignored the sensation to take a deep breath as you began to massage his balls and lower half with your saliva covered hands. You began to move your mouth in the opposite direction of your hands, touching just enough of his balls with your tongue to get him to grip a chunk of your hair from within your own hand.

“Fuck, just like that.” You never took your eyes off him, and Matsukawa found it even harder to control himself with the way you took so much of him with so much ease.

You hollowed your cheeks as you slipped his now fully-hard dick out your mouth. Trails of saliva followed, the explicit view of your teary eyes and sloppy lips making him groan within his throat.

“Fuck my throat.”

The words were harsh, your expression being just as blank as his once was, and Issei realized he wasn’t really the one in control here. Not if all it took was for you to tell him what to do and he was scrambling to do it like second nature.

His lips revealed that lazy smirk you wanted to fuck off his face, the large hand gripping your hair nearly shoving his dick back into your fresh, wet mouth. “Don’t mind if I do, princess.”

The nickname he called you didn't even have time to register in your mind, the sensation of Matsukawa forcing your head up and down his dick as much as he could being the only thing on your brain. You couldn't help the tears from slipping down your cheeks, eyes opening once again to hazily look over to the ones burning a hole into your face.

Matsukawa couldn’t find it in himself to look away from you. He wasn't sure if it was the tears, or the way you allowed him to fuck your throat so easily, or the drool leaking down into the balls you fondled at the same time, or even the way the hand once gripping your own hair found its way between your legs as he watched you play with yourself, but Issei decided this image was going to ruin everyone else for him.

He already decided he couldn't get enough of you. The sound of your gags filled with car in a nearly pornographic way, yet not once did you ask him to stop and he took note of that. 

“Fuck,” he broke out, eyes struggling to watch yours as his lips parted open, “you’re gonna make me cum,” his words were interrupted by a load groan. Your tongue found its way back onto his balls as his tip rammed into the back of your throat and Issei felt his toes curl. “Fuck, fuck, fuck..”

Right on time, you went against his strong grip and popped his dick out of your mouth with saliva drooling down in a way that looked so forbidden, Issei was sure he would’ve came at that sight alone.

“That was...”

“Not your type?” You bit at him, a mocking smile on your lips as you bit your lip and found your way onto the comfort of his lap.

It was weird, the way you felt like you fit perfectly within his frame as if it was a piece of a puzzle. Matsukawa would agree if he could, hands nearly instinctively finding its way onto the globed of your ass and pulling the fabric of your panties over and over again.

“Never in a million years.”

His smirk haunted you, lidded eyes staring at you once again and you realize Issei Matsukawa is a really hard guy to get a reaction out of. So taking the challenge yet again, you stared at him just as emotionless. Your fingers lifted the patch stuck to your folds, and the trail of wetness that dripped over onto both you and his own thighs was nearly sinful to the sore eyes.

It was hard to imagine taking a dick you were sure you could see in your stomach with such an expression, and you wouldn’t wish that suffering on your worst enemy. You couldn’t believe how much just half of him stretched your insides out, your walls sucking him in and barely being able to hold it in together.

“Don't worry, take your time.” Matsukawa’s tone was beyond condescending, the taunt behind his words bringing an anger within you enough to cloud your mind of all common sense. It was unexpected, the way your body just shoved the rest of him inside of your tight, pulsating hole and rested all your body weight on top of him.

“Fuck!” Both of you yelped out, your hands clawing at his chest while his gripped your ass cheeks apart in nothing but a burning sensation.

He filled you up to the brim, the sureness of him hitting your cervix causing your eyes to flutter at the feeling. You bit your lip, adjusting your body to where your feet were on either side of him on the backseat and your body was more able to move.

His eyes widened in surprise at your actions, the sound of both of your pants alongside the music that was long forgotten struggling to keep you attentive. Without warning, you lifted your body up and slammed back down onto him. The action brought a pretty little gasp out your lips, mouth parted and eyes clenched at just how fucking amazing the curve and thickness of his cock was.

“C’mon baby,” he whispered into your ears, hands reaching over to intertwine themselves with your own so you got better balance, “fuck me like you mean it.”

“You’re such an asshole.” You breathed out, beginning to bounce your body up and down his dick perfect enough to hear the squelching sounds of your wetness after every impact. Issei groaned, eyes glued to the sight of where your pussy swallowed him whole and spit him back out over and over again.

“Mm, what else baby?”

Issei’s bored resolve started to crack, groans slipping through his lips in a way that made you tighten up against him even more if it were possible. Your hands gripped his intertwined ones, bouncing up and down faster than you could probably handle. The sensation of his dick hitting your cervix over and over causing you to arch your back closer into his body as you bounced.

The sound of your body slamming into his began to quicken, the strength of your legs giving up as you realized his started to fuck you back from the bottom and drill his length into you.

“Fuck, Issei��” You moaned out embarrassingly loud, Mattsun’s eyes watching you with curiosity in his irises from the way he wanted to figure out how to get you to moan out like that again.

“Don’t be shy now,” he teased, the strain in his voice telling you that even if he was torturing you with the pounding of his dick, he was enjoying it just as much as you, “where’d all that mouth go, pretty?”

You felt yourself clench at the nickname, head leaning back and leaving your neck open for him to lick a trail over towards your jaw and softly bite the plush skin. The windows began to fog up, the sensation of your poor pussy taking him in and out and quick pace causing the car to jump up and down with each stroke.

“F-fuck,” you stuttered out, nearly crying out when his hands found it’s way towards under your ass to support you as he drilled all of this thickness into your throbbing pussy.

The familiar knot began to grow within your stomach, and your hand found it’s way between his messy locks only to grab it and tilt his head roughly back against the window. A surprised groan left his lips, eyes staring up at you widely with a smirk endured from straight pleasure shot up his lips.

“You gonna cum all on daddy’s dick?”

Usually the words would have made you cringe, and you wanted to bite a snarky remark at him for the name. Yet something in you grew feral at the sentence, beginning to rub your clit against him each time you harshly dropped down as you roughened your grip on his hair.

“Fuck yes, daddy, make me cum,” your words tickled his ears, the moans at the end of each word bringing Matsukawa into a state of euphoria. He could hear you say that to him for the rest of his life, if he could.

“Come on baby,” he groaned out harshly, smacking your ass enough to leave a sting that made you cry out into his neck, “give it to me!”

His words echoed in your ears, your loud cries like music to his ears as he watched you fuck him back just as rough as he was being with you. Your hand pulled his head back once again, his scalp hitting the window harshly but he didn’t care once your lips came crashing onto his.

It was nothing but teeth and tongue, sucking on each other’s muscles and making out as if nothing in this world could ever be right again without it. His hands gripped your ass once again, spreading them harshly apart and spanking them with as much toughness that went into spiking a volleyball.

You screamed into his mouth, words being unable to come out as he began to drill into you even rougher and faster than you knew was possible. Your legs had long given out at this point, simply being tossed up and down like a rag doll by Issei’s strong arms and cocky attitude. You were in heaven, even if you’d never admit it.

“I— I hate you,” you fought to yelp out, pussy beginning to squeeze at the feeling you knew all too well as you stared into his eyes and made him look at you as if he was seeing God, “but you fuck me— fuck, you fuck me so good..”

Your words became faint whispers, stars beginning to formulate instead of his once brown irises and bring you into a state of euphoria.

“Daddy I’m gonna—” The words were stolen from your lips as Matsukawa slammed your lips against his own and gripped your back close to his chest.

“Cum baby,” he groaned into your lips, your own sounds preventing you from being able to kiss him back as your covered tits bounced into the confinement of his chest, “cum on daddy’s big dick.”

The words brought a vibration within you, a mantra of the words daddy and please slipping as you felt the euphoria take over your body and leave you with nearly nothing inside you. Issei could practically feel you cum, his own resolve giving out as his shot his thick cum into your throbbing pussy and bringing another scream from between your swollen lips.

“Take it, good girl— fuck yes..” Words slipped from his mouth without his own permission, the sensation of your pussy holding him within you as if it never wanted to let him go and he really wouldn’t mind.

Nothing but your struggles to catch your own breath filled the car, his own haunting the ghost of your ear as you laid out across his chest with saliva threatening to slip from your lips and cum leaking down both of your thighs. It was absolutely disgusting if you really thought about it, but the idea of knowing you had just slutted each other out so sinfully brought your toes to curl one last time.

No one said a word, and as much as you wanted to comment on how he was still gripping your chest against his own, you decided to go against it and try to find reality from the solitude of his wide chest. You could hear Brent Faiyaz on the radio, the view of just how foggy the windows were making you giggle to yourself.

“What’s funny?” The rumble of the words against his chest caused your pussy to throb once again, and you had almost forgotten he was still lodged inside of you with a load of cum threatening to spill out.

“Nothing.” Your voice was gone, and as embarrassing as it was, Issei mentally found himself obsessing over how raspy it got.

The silence was calm, yet the awkward conversation of what next lingered within the air between the two of you. You knew it was going to come soon, and you weren’t really sure of what could possibly happen afterwards. There was no going back from this, Issei Matsukawa had fucked you so good, you never wanted to fuck anyone else again.

The first to break it was Mattsun, which took you by surprise. His large hands found their way towards you cheek, caressing your head as his pushed you back far enough to face him with fucked out eyes and swollen lips and Issei convinces himself you’re one of the seven wonders of the world.

“We should do that again sometime.” He suggests, bored eyes staring into yours as you noticed the small smile lifting amongst the corner of his lips. You wanted to smile back, but the idea of having some more fun with him seemed quite better.

“Eh,” you replied, lifting your weakened body back into his straddling state and biting your lips as you placed both hands across his broad chest. You notice the way his cock twitches hungrily within you, and you realize you were gonna enjoy this a bit too much.

He’s seeing stars, thinking the hottest thing he’s ever seen is a fucked out you staring at him this way and you realize you’ve finally won. You stare at him, bored eyes and a lazy smirk on your lips mimicking the face he spent all his life mastering.

“You’re not really my type.”

                             © 444TSUMU 2021

[lostinwildflowers]

Sawamura Daichi x Reader

Summary: Prince Sawamura Daichi hasn't found a bride, so his parents take things into their own hands. He hates you, for he didn't get to choose the one he married, but life moves on as a royal. What will the outcome of your marriage be?

Word Count: 4.3K

Warnings: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, swearing, angst, and otherwise fluff :)

A/N: Hey y'all! This is MY SEVENTH FIC for The Barn's "Royal Rodeo Collab"! I had so much fun writing this fic for Daichi, and I hope everyone enjoys it! -Birch<3

A prince is the image of the kingdom: proud, handsome, informed, powerful, kind. They are expected to learn and make choices that will one day bring them to lead their kingdom and be wise with their power.

And Prince Sawamura Daichi from the kingdom of Karasuno was exactly that. He was well known and respected in the towns across his country, people would flock to greet him whenever he went to the villages to visit and learn about his people.

Everyone knew that he was a kind soul, and wanted to lead Karasuno with a solid will and unwavering, true morals. Daichi was practically the definition of what a prince should be, and for every prince, there should be a matching princess to rule by his side.

However, the beloved prince had yet to find a woman to make his bride, thus leaving the king and queen with few other options. The king decided to take things into his own hands, seeking out a princess from the kingdom of Inarizaki, one of the biggest rivals of Karasuno.

He bartered that if the princess married Daichi, a large chunk of land would be given to Inarizaki as a show of peace between the rivaling countries. That was the deal, and the king and queen from across the sea agreed, shipping off their daughter to the kingdom of Karasuno to get married.

Quick and angry-sounding footsteps boom out as the prince makes his way to a private meeting room, where he knew his mother and father would be alone. Daichi pushes the door open with a deep furrow in his brow, not wavering or flinching whenever the door made loud contact with the wall.

“What the hell is this?” Daichi whispers with fire in his eyes and rage in his voice. His eyes flash as he looks at his parents, who just share a concerned glance. The king sighs and then stands up, turning to face his eldest son.

“My son, you have not yet found a bride, and your mother and I are getting older. You weren’t going to find someone suitable to be queen someday on your own, and we need to have an heir as soon as possible. You will be getting married whenever she arrives, so I suggest getting changed,” the king states, arms folding formally behind his back.

Daichi swears he can feel his heart stop beating in his chest as he glances from his father’s face to his loving mother’s, who smiles at him sadly and nods. Daichi’s mouth falls open as tears burn at the edges of his eyes and he whispers, “I’ll never forgive you for this.”

At that, the prince turns on his heel, whipping out of the meeting room to storm down the halls toward his bedroom. Daichi rips the door open and then slams it closed with yet another loud bang, tears flooding his eyes and down his cheeks as he cries into his hands.

Daichi never wanted this. He wanted to find the right girl on his terms, not his parents. He was sure he would find someone just right for him, that they would fall in love and it would be perfect.

As Daichi brushes away the tears from his eyes to be met with a deep burgundy-colored suit hanging on his dresser, he knows. Daichi knows that even though he has never met you, he hates you.

He didn’t pick you. He didn’t want to marry you. There aren’t any feelings between the two of you, so why does this news hurt so damn much?

You can feel your chest tighten with nerves as you make your way off of your ship and onto the private docks of the king and queen of Karasuno. Your (colored) eyes are scanning and searching the small crowd for the people you would soon have to call family.

A maid of yours slips by, grabbing your bag and other small belongings as you make your way off of the ship, and you smile sadly knowing that this would be the last time you would see her.

Two wide smiles greet you, and there is a moment where you don’t feel nervous as you make eye contact with the king and queen. You lower yourself into a curtsey, and they respectfully bow and curtsey back before welcoming you with a warm hug.

You can hear movement behind the two royals, and as you pull away from the hug, you catch sight of hardened brown eyes, and you feel a subtly gasp leave your lips at the sight of him.

Your husband-to-be, Sawamura Daichi.

The queen regains your attention by gushing out, “You are so beautiful, Lady Y/n, you will do lovely for our son.” The king clears his throat and nods, “It’s lovely to have you, Lady Y/n. Welcome to the family.”

A scoff can be heard from behind the king and queen, who part to let the prince step forward, his eyes narrowed with a scowl. Daichi’s eyes rake up and down your form, an unamused look resting on his features before he mutters, “I could’ve picked someone much better than this.”

The king’s voice rings out as he snaps, “Son, shut your mouth and take your soon-to-be wife, and our guest, to your chambers. You need to get over yourself and start acting like the prince you’ve trained to become.”

Daichi doesn’t say anything, his eyes remaining cold and unwavering as he stiffly offers you his arm, which you slowly take as you glance from him and then to the ground. His words ring harshly in your head- someone much better…

You both remain quiet as Daichi leads you to the palace and into your shared room. It’s very tense as Daichi pulls his arm harshly away from you and mutters, “Your gown is in the closet. You have an hour and I’ll come to get you. Don’t be late.”

You flinch as he snaps the door shut, and you can feel hurt rise in your throat as you turn toward the closet. You hadn’t even said or done anything to the usually kind prince, so why was he determined to hurt you like this?

You set out to work in getting yourself ready, brushing a deep red lipstick to your mouth and some eyeshadows to your lids to match the red-colored theme of the wedding. Soon enough, you find yourself slipping into your dress, but you couldn’t quite finish zipping it up to your neck.

A knock on the door makes you jump as you grasp the front of the dress, eyes wide in panic. A gruff voice calls, “I’m coming in.”

At that, Daichi walks into the room, his eyes landing on you, barely widening before they resume their stoic nature. He strides over to you and growls, “I thought I told you to be ready.”

You furrow your own brows and snap back, “Well if you haven’t noticed, this dress wasn’t designed for the wearer to be the one taking it off and on!”

Daichi’s brown eyes flash with what could be rage, but he doesn’t make any rash moves as he whispers lowly, “Turn around.”

You go to argue with him, but the glint in his eye tells you otherwise, so you shuffle the best you can, moving the dress so that he wouldn’t step on it, but gave him access to your half-open back.

Large and warm hands rest around your ribcage as Daichi’s fingers find the zipper, tugging it upwards in a swift motion before he steps away, his eyes raking over your figure once again.

As you turn to fully face him, you almost expect a compliment from the way his eyes graze your form, but instead, you are left recoiling from the harsh words that fall from his lips.

“I’ll never love you. Not even once we’re married. Never,” he states as he turns on his heel, walking out of the room as he fights the image of you in a wedding dress out of his head.

You rush to follow him, grabbing at your skirts as you think to yourself, And I will never you love, Sawamura Daichi. You are a mean, insufferable man and I can’t believe I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with you.

The wedding is beautiful, and of course, picture-perfect. There are huge pots and wreaths of flowers covering every aisle in the church, intricate ribbons indicating where guests should funnel and go.

The high ceiling of the cathedral allows a mirage of colors to paint the walls as light floods in from the enormous stain-glass windows. People are bustling to their seats as the time gets closer to the ringing of the cathedral bells, their footsteps loud enough to drown out the soft melody coming from the organ.

Daichi looks handsome, smiling as he greets and talks to the honored guests of his wedding. His smile is fake, eyes not quite lit up enough for a man on his wedding day, but the commoners are too daft to even notice.

You, on the other hand, are the epitome of royal beauty. Your dress flows out from your waist in an elegant fashion. It’s not too loose, not too tight, and your hair and makeup look ethereal and regal. You’re waiting just outside the church, a few maids around you to help carry your dress up whenever the bells were to start ringing.

And just like that, people are settled into their seats, and music begins to play right as the bells start to chime. Flower girls, ring bearers, and people who were supposed to resemble bridesmaids and groomsmen are walking down the aisle, smiling brightly at the crowd, for it’s not every day you get to participate in a royal wedding.

Daichi finds his spot at the altar, and his eyes seem to focus on the door handle that he knew led to you. Two maids push the doors open with a wide swing, tossing red rose petals onto the ground as they scurried to the side, leaving the entire cathedral to stand at the sight of you.

There you stood, alone at the end of the aisle. Daichi felt tears stinging at the sore skin at the corner of his eyes, but not because of how beautiful you looked.

No, it was because he was getting married to a woman he had no desire to be with. He was getting married to a woman who he hated.

You make your way down the aisle confidently, blinking in thanks as you hear whispers of encouragement and praises of beauty as you make your way up to Daichi. Once at the front of the altar, you pass your intricate bouquet off and offer your hands for Daichi to take.

His hands are warm and rough in your own clammy and shaky ones, your heart racing as you look up from your entwined fingers to Daichi’s longing and saddened gaze. He manages to keep a smile on his lips, and you try to mimic that to keep up the ongoing production.

The vows pass quickly and meaninglessly, the words empty promises that held no weight as the priest monologued on. You almost forgot about the last part though, eyes so fixed on learning the curve of Daichi’s face while not making a fool out of yourself.

“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest’s voice says lightly, and you can feel the energy of the room turn electric as the crowd waits for Daichi to kiss you. You note the pain and struggle in Daichi’s eyes as he pulls his hands away from your own, and rests them on your waist instead.

He leans in slowly, pulling you flush against him before he changes his mind. Daichi keeps a firm hold on you as he brings you across his body as lowers you into a full-on dip. Your face is one of surprise as he brings his face to yours, his lips aimed toward your own in a kiss.

To the crowd in the pews, Daichi just pulled you into a dramatic kiss to give the new love of his life a memory worthy kiss. But to you, Daichi pulled you into a bridal dip so that his lips didn’t have to fully rest on your own, and angled just right, could plant his kiss just on the edge of your mouth instead.

The crowd whoops and hollers he holds you there for a second, his lips lingering near your cheek as he whispers, “Try to look like I just gave you the best damn kiss of your life.”

You blink up at him, slightly dazed as he pulls you out of the low dip, his hand lacing with your own as he shoots a wide grin toward his people, raising one arm to wave at them as you regain your balance and smile as you see the maids of honor giggle at the flush on your cheeks.

You almost stumble as Daichi begins to pull you down the aisle, but his firm grip on your hand keeps you from doing so, and he tucks you under his arm stiffly as he continues to play the part of the perfect and happy prince.

Daichi had insisted to his parents that he did not want a reception, and they at least respected that, so they dismissed everyone from the church as Daichi helped you up and into the carriage to take you back to the palace.

You remain quiet as the carriage rolls back to the castle, and you can feel your throat tighten as you realize what’s usually expected of the bride and groom on the night of their wedding.

Daichi is silent as he leads you through the unfamiliar hallways back to the room where you had first gotten changed. He locks the door behind the two of you and begins to take off his burgundy jacket, followed by the sharp black bowtie that had been knotted around his neck.

You swallow shakily when you realize that you can’t get out of the dress yourself and you take a step backward as Daichi turns to you, his gaze sharp and emotionless.

“Turn,” the command comes, and you feel tears returning to your eyes as you flinch under his touch. Daichi pulls his hands away at your sudden movement, and his eyes slightly soften as he mutters, “I’m just helping you unzip. There are clothes in the bathroom you can change into.”

At his words, you carefully shuffle back over to him, where his hands find the zipper at the top of your neck and pulls it the whole way down to the end of your spine. Without another word, he turns away and walks back over to his dresser, allowing you to slip into the bathroom.

You let out a huge and relieved sigh whenever you shut the bathroom door behind you, confident enough that Daichi wouldn’t walk in on you as you step out of the dress and change into a simple nightgown.

You find the hanger that the dress had been on, and do your best to hang it up the way you found it. You go through the motions of brushing your hair and teeth, wiping the makeup off, and mentally preparing yourself to sleep next to your husband for the night.

Husband. You still couldn’t believe that you were married to a man who hated you and had barely shown you a glimpse of kindness.

When you return to the bedroom, Daichi has already slid under the covers and is laying on his back, brown eyes trained toward the ceiling. They glance at you as you make your way over to the other side of the bed, hesitantly laying on your side with your back facing him on the edge of the mattress.

The night slides by quietly, where no conversations or stories are shared. Daichi makes no move to get anywhere near you or touch you, so you let yourself rest without the worry of needing to consummate your marriage.

The next few months are cold and dry as winter comes and freezes the kingdom of Karasuno over. The chill of the wintery season hits you hard, making you numb to your surroundings as you fill in the new role of “Princess Y/n L/n, future queen of Karasuno and married to Prince Sawamura Daichi”.

Thankfully, you could almost call Daichi an acquaintance at this point. He had opened up slightly over the few months from summer into autumn, seeing as he was going to have to live with you for the rest of his life.

The two of you would never talk about the way he would occasionally hold you while laying in bed whenever the night would be extra chilly, or the way he would rub your back when you would wake up from a particularly grueling nightmare.

In turn for his small and kind actions, you would bring him the intermittent gifts of a small lunch, or a snack bag with his favorite fruits that you’d come to learn by just watching. When his meetings and practices were long, he always forgot to eat, so the little gifts caught him off-guard more than they should have.

The small actions between the two of you continued, and slowly but surely the actions started to turn into words. If you were up reading late into the evenings when Daichi finally managed to slip back into your room, he would ask you what you were reading.

Sometimes you would read for him, lulling him to sleep with your voice before you would get up to blow all of the candles out. There was one time you stopped reading because you thought he fell asleep, but then you heard him mumble, “And then what?”

You had to calm your heart and the flush on your cheeks as you began to read again, this time with Daichi’s eyes half focused on your face and half focused on the words falling from your lips.

Nights like these hung in your mind as you found yourself growing fond of the brown-haired prince. You liked how Daichi was treating you, just like how he treated everyone. You could see the soft and kind side to him that everyone raved about, and you weren’t sure how to feel about it.

It’s the night of your first anniversary as a married couple. As husband and wife. You weren’t really sure what to do, because Daichi hadn’t said anything, and neither had the king or queen.

You were writing at one of the desks in your shared bedroom, scribbling down a letter to send to your mother and father, letting them know how you were. The door to your room swings open, and you are surprised to see Daichi standing in the doorway.

In his hands, he holds two plates of steaming food, with the faintest blush hanging on the bridge of his nose and the tips of his ears. He wore a simple, white shirt with black slacks, and yet he managed to look utterly handsome in the basic outfit.

He walks over to you, setting the plates down on the desk before hurrying back over to the door, shutting it a little too harshly. You set down your inked feather carefully as you glance from the food and back over to Daichi, confusion evident in your expression as he sits down across from you.

Daichi pulls out neatly wrapped silverware, handing a bundle to you as he states, “I canceled all of my meetings for this evening.”

You blink in surprise as you take the silverware from his hands and mumble, “You didn’t have to do that, Daichi.” He shrugs as he unwraps his utensils and mutters, “It’s the least I could do. Happy anniversary, Y/n.”

You smile at him as he takes a bite of the pasta and you think to yourself, Happy anniversary, Daichi. The food is quite delicious as you start eating, and you bring yourself to have a pleasant conversation as the two of you munch away.

Soon enough, dinner slides by and you are pleasantly full, and Daichi looks the same. He offers you his hand as he stands up and murmurs, “Shall we?”

You take his hand, much more confidently than you had a year ago, and allow him to help you to your feet. He pressed your hand to his arm, a smile on his lips as he guides you out the backside of your room, into a private garden where the moonlight shined bright.

The two of you walk around the garden in pleasant silence for a while, and you can feel your grip tightening around Daichi’s muscular forearm as you walk. He doesn’t seem to mind it, as he rests his opposite hand over the top of yours as you meander around.

Daichi ends up leading you out of the garden and over to a large field alongside of the castle, and you stumble slightly at the more uneven ground. Daichi is quiet as he pulls your hands away from him, but then securely wraps his arm around your waist, tugging you to his side.

You flush under the close proximity, and you can’t help but blink at him in awe as the moonlight bounces off of his sharp and angled features, making him look even more handsome. Daichi glances down at you and smiles, a real smile where you can see his pearly whites, and you can’t help but smile back.

He guides you onto the ground before sitting next to you, your (colored) eyes focused on the stars and galaxies above you. Daichi watches the sky for a minute before looking over at you, noting the way your hair framed your face and how your lips were just barely parted open.

“I never hated you,” his voice comes out, soft and low in a slow whisper. Your eyes widen before you turn your head to face him, and you are met with a soft and embarrassed flush on Daichi’s cheeks.

“What?” you whisper, fully turning your body to face him as you tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. Daichi shrugs and continues, “I was upset that I didn’t get to pick who I fell in love with, so I vowed that I would never love you.”

You nod in return, your eyes moving toward the ground as you begin to pick at the grass while you say, “I was… I was actually excited to be married to you, Daichi. I had heard of this kind and handsome prince from across the sea, and I was excited. And then...”

You sigh at the end of your words and shoot him a tight-lipped smile and Daichi picks up where you left off, “And then you experienced me first hand and decided I wasn’t what you had conjured up in your head. And that I was more handsome than you were expecting.”

You roll your eyes as you playfully shove at him, but Daichi expects this, so he allows your body to move on top of his own, his hands gripping at your waist as you look down at him surprised.

He brushes that stray piece of hair out of your eyes and murmurs, “I’m sorry for being a jerk to you all of these months.”

You relax in his grip and whisper back, “It’s okay, Daichi. You couldn’t have fallen in love with someone you were being forced to marry.”

Daichi doesn’t respond for a moment, his eyes just flick over your face, noting the soft curve of your cheek that’s lit up by the moon. He tries to burn the memory of your eyes twinkling into his head forever.

When he doesn’t respond, you get a little worried. You shuffle from where you lay on top of him and whisper, “Daichi? What did you me-” “But I am in love with you, dammit!”

Daichi’s words knock the air out of your lungs and cause butterflies to erupt in your stomach. Your heart skips and palpates a few times before setting into a rapid beat that makes you shake your head a few times to clear your thoughts.

“Daichi- I...” your words trail off as your gaze flicks around his face, searching for any hint of deception. When you don’t find any you giggle out, “Well you big doofus, I love you too.”

The prince laughs at the nickname, and you can feel his chest vibrate with the heft of his laugh, and his grip tightens on your waist so you don’t go too far. Daichi slows his laugh down to a soft chuckle before cupping your face gently with one hand.

He brushes his thumb along the curve of your cheek, and you lean into his tender touch as your eyes flutter closed. Daichi runs his thumb just to the corner of your mouth and whispers, “Can I kiss you?”

You give him a simple nod, allowing him to lean upwards to catch your lips with his own while his hand moves to the backside of your head.

This kiss is a lot different from the one he gave you at your wedding.

This one is sweet and warm, and Daichi’s body is soft but firm under your touch, and you are pliant and willing in his grasp. A quiet groan leaves his lips as he tastes your mouth, his lips moving slowly against your own as he pulls you close under the midnight stars.

When you finally pull away to catch your breath you gasp out, “I’ll always love you, Daichi.” The brown-haired prince smiles up at you and replies, “And I will always love you too, my queen.”

It was a long year of back and forths, highs and lows, hate and love. But it seems that whenever you would say “never”, it might have meant “always” instead.

Tag List: @mysterystarz @mortedeveles @vs-redemption @kal0psi-a @gin-no-g @starstruckkittensweets @kitacharm@babieweeb @shirari @animated-moon

[auratold]

@fatedmuses look what I found

trick or treat! (just for you hails

Send ‘Trick or Treat!  🎃’ to my inbox and I’ll give you a treat! This could be: a promo graphic, icons, an aesthetic graphic of your muse, a drabble, a photoset of our muses together, a moodboard based on one of our threads, or some other goodie! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!  Let’s celebrate! (Not accepting) 

@thechampionsofthejust

our muses:

Based off of our first rp:

[devilrainbunnie]

.- anthurium -.

X/2/3

shigaraki x reader

a/n: kind of an au, first piece! hope you guys like, i was feeling angsty. part two maybe?

CW: anxiety warning, cheating, manipulation, reader is depressed, sexual themes and description of sexual themes. minors DNI.

—

“for the millionth time, nothing is going on!” he snapped, rolling his eyes as he shuffled in his chair. fingers carefully laced around the hand held device. the vermillion eyes were full of fire, a fire that burned in agitation. towards you. he dared not to look into yours, for that would be almost like he was admitting to the accusations.

“then why do you smell like perfume that isn’t mine? why are you gone hours at a time without ever going to a meeting? why can’t you even do as little as look at me? why do you—“ your voice began to shake, feeling your fingers tremble with the hem of your shirt.

“you’re being paranoid, quit projecting your fucking insecurities on to me y/n. this conversation is over, now fuck off and let me relax.” he snarled, shifting his body away from your stance. he continued to play on his device, paying no mind to the girl with a river of tears pouring from her eyes.

you knew how it would end, and it always consisted of him leaving for the rest of the day. coming home the next morning, sometimes not even bothering to shower. you weren’t stupid. you could see the love bites on his scarred neck, his swollen lips, the way his sea foam colored locks were in a tangled bunch, he reeked of expensive perfume... you’d even found hair strands that weren’t either of yours. you knew, he knew that you knew, but he didn’t care that you knew.

it’s been going on since tomura was declared leader, king of this new group— the paranormal liberation front. since then, he’s put himself on such a high pedestal and his eyes began to wander. it wasn’t too noticeable at first, you thought you were just being insecure. because your boyfriend of over a year was beginning to spend less and less time with you. for the first time since you both got intimate, he stopped sleeping with you in your shared bed regularly. his often touch starved nature of wanting to be held and hold you constantly, began to stop. after a while, he wouldn’t so much as ruffle your hair anymore, or touch your back as he walked past. he stopped smiling at you.

he stopped loving you.

you noticed a specific girl with him from time to time, she was so different from you. outwardly sexy, confident, and most of all, she had him. she had beautiful emerald eyes, and dashing natural red hair. her figure was unbeatable. someone who would’ve been regularly out of his league, just due to her status, and often snobby nature. deep down, you knew that’s probably why he felt so enticed. she was unattainable. just like you had been to him once. he was always one to strive for the best, you guessed that meant lovers too.

you almost felt bad for him, considering the knowledge you had about her... she did this a lot. fucked around with higher ups as a way to gain better status, be placed in a higher rank, and get special privileges bother plf members wouldn’t originally receive. you’d heard this from dabi, she apparently tried to do the same thing to him, but he said, he “had better standards than that”.

you chuckled at dabi’s comment, you were the only one in the league he treated like a genuine friend. thankfully he could always make you crack a smile or two.

then like usual, the sadness came back.

there you were, alone in your shared apartment inside of the plf building. you sat at the edge of the windowsill in the living room, the lights were off. nothing but the distance sound of owls, wind, and branches to be heard. the moons glow to illuminate the scenery just a touch. your e/c eyes red, and glistened with the aftermath of an overbearing storm of a meltdown. your cheeks still burning, lips chapped and your hands doing anything else but standing still. since it got bad a few weeks ago with him, this is all you’ve been able to do. cry. let out your loud sobs all day, and whenever tomura was due to return, you’d go back to the way he preferred you. quiet, distant, and minding your business.

even with your quirk, your depression had led to all of the plants in each room to wilt. it’s almost poetic how accurate that displayed to your feelings— and of course, tomura didn’t even notice them.

anytime you did anything, it agitated him. there was no use in speaking, unless he was the one to initiate it. asking you what you made him for dinner, asking if you’ve seen a certain item of his, or asking you to do something for him, like stitch his tethered hoodie. sometimes telling you that he was annoyed with you being around dabi.

you began to nibble on your bottom lip again, trying to stop the fresh new wave of tears that threatened to spill. you promised yourself to not cry anymore, stop it. you stood from your spot, adjusting the simple outfit you wore. just usual long sleeve and leggings. using your sleeves to dry your face from the evidence of your overwhelming sadness. deciding that you should just take a shower, get ready for bed, and sleep. what else was there to do anyhow?

you soon felt refreshed, your heart still aches but the overwhelming pain subsided. you rested your head against the familiar scented cotton pillow case and grabbed his pillow. holding it close to your chest.

this is all i really have left of him now... wow.

—

the next day was seemingly uneventful. with a rare spotting of tomura coming in, showering, getting dressed, eating, and leaving once again. he paid you no mind the entire time. just simply glazing over your figure as you sat in different spots within the hour or two he was there. there were no words to he spoken. he didn’t even greet you when coming in. he just walked in the bedroom, rummaged around. looked at you as you were just waking up, and went about his business.

the pain settled in even more. every day it hit harder, and harder, but today, you were numb. the tears you held were all gone. you couldn’t cry, you couldn’t aimlessly sob. nothing. the core of you was empty.

“how much longer can i take of this...” you whispered to yourself tucking your knees to your chest. arms protectively wrapped around yourself.

you looked over to the once beautiful anthurium, it was completely wilted. the vibrant red petals were beginning to fall off. that plant was the one you connected the most with, it had a piece of your soul with it at this point. it would’ve been an easy fix to keep it from dying. one touch, and it would be right back to normal.

would the flower remember it’s neglect? the times you slacked on giving it water and proper daylight? would it simply forgive so easily just by your touch? can you forgive him, just by his touch?

“i don’t know.”

—

days had passed, he hadn’t come by since that night to your knowledge. sometimes you stepped out for a bit, just to clear your mind. you began to grow anxious, something was wrong. definitely wrong. you needed to know, to have some closure. every minute that passed seemed to crush you, it felt as if the world was ending.

against your better judgement, you got dressed. fixed your hair, and shakily tried to calm yourself down as you looked in the mirror. overanalyzing every single detail about your appearance, you looked like hell.

you were planning to go searching for tomura around the building. maybe even ask dabi if he had seen him. you stepped into your converse, taking deep breaths as you prepared yourself to find whatever might lie ahead. the feeling in your stomach didn’t stop churning.

one touch can’t fix it.

he won’t fix it.

he doesn’t want you.

you hugged the jacket tighter to your frame, feeling clammy and weak in the knees as you began to search around. he wasn’t anywhere you were looking, you checked everywhere you usually found him. you came across dabi before stepping into the elevator. he seemed concerned, he grabbed your shoulder before you walked away.

“y/n?” he quietly asked. his tone laced with anxiety.

“o-oh, hey.” your trembling form turned to face him. “long time no see.”

“what the fuck is going on?”

“it’s nothing, don’t worry about it—“

“don’t lie to me.” he cut you off, his voice laced with venom. he was always like a big brother figure to you, always protective and so easy to catch on. “what’s going on y/n? do i have to kill that creepy little fucking gremlin?” he snarled.

“n-no! no! it’s fine, really. i’m just uh, trying to find him that’s all.” you said sincerely. your voice wavering the entire way, stepping away from his hold on you.

“y/n don’t walk away from me, talk to me about this. you look like shit.” he called after you.

“i’m sorry.” you said in a voice so small he barely was able to grasp it. dabi just stared at you with disbelief, and anger.

—

then came the room you dreaded most. subconsciously you wanted to search it last, due to fear of what you might see.

you knew he was cheating, but you were in denial until you could see it.

you were about to give up and go back to your room before you heard a specific sound. coming from the office tomura used most often, but wasn’t always in. the way the table sounded against the wall and hardwood of the floors made your body tense, the breathless panting, the high pitched moaning... and worst of all, the sound of tomura groaning in pleasure. did your ears deceive you? bile threatened to shoot from your stomach. you eased open the office door, to a sight you wish you never saw. there was tomura, thrusting into the girl you feared and envied most. he was lost in lust, suckling, kissing, and grabbing every part of her flesh that was visible. like he used to do to you.

used to.

you stood there in horror, feeling like everything was crumbling before you. he didn’t even notice your peering eyes staring right into the depths of his soul, and hers. his groans got louder, he muttered something he hadn’t told you in such a long time. it made you want to scream so loud that your lungs bled.

“f-fuck, i— love you.”

you shakily slammed the door behind you. hard, and heavy breaths struggling to be let out, as you ran to the elevator. smashing the buttons to go back to your room. tears streaming down your face once again, you let out hushed cries, trying to regain your composure. as you ran to your room. it happened all in a daze, you loudly cried as you packed some of your things into a backpack, hating that things still smelled like him. you sobbed finding old polaroids if each other. deciding to throw the stack at the wall above the bed.

once you had everything ready, you realized something. you were still wearing a necklace he gave you a bit ago. it was a small anthurium made of ruby. you held the delicate item in your hands, debating what to do with it. the burden of owning it haunting you much more than letting it go, so that’s what you did. you placed the necklace on the counter. grabbing the notepad that was usually on the counter as well to write a quick note on top for him to find. your eyes flooded over the room, drinking it in as much as you could before leaving. all of the memories, decorating it with tomura, having sex for the first time on the bed, the first time he came home like he often did now... you felt a sob threatening to release again as you recounted the memory.

lastly you dropped the key next to the necklace, never to be seen again.

you exited the building with little hassle, tears still free falling across your face like usual. the hood of your jacket was up to conceal yourself, you wanted to leave without a trace. luckily it was late enough to do so, the only person who spotted you was spinner. for some reason he was alone by himself outside. he seemed concerned about your disheveled and unfamiliar appearance. but he didn’t utter a word to you, letting you walk out before him. you wondered what he thought of your pathetic sobbing form pacing out of the entrance.

you barely had a plan, a place to go for that matter. all that mattered now, was you.

you need to let go.

he can’t fix it this time.

don’t let him fix it this time, y/n.

>>>

tomura arrived to the apartment hours after you had left, he wasn’t expecting anything but a nice hot shower and a warm bed to sleep in. his body was sore from the steamy evening he spent with the red head. she really rocked his shit, he chuckled at the thought of her.

he didn’t bother to look around the main room, before heading straight into the bedroom. the light was on, which wasn’t that unusual. what was unusual though, was the mess around the room. the closets were wide open, pieces of film thrown all over the bed, and floor. at first he was mad, barging into the bathroom to yell at you. flipping on the light, to see nothing. you weren’t in the bathroom, or bedroom.

“y/n why did you leave everything such a mess? why did you throw pictures everywhere? what the fuck is going on?!” he called out to you. annoyed. like usual. he walked out of the bedroom, noticing finally, you weren’t here. “y/n.” he spoke sternly.

he walked cautiously around the space, looming over every detail, not able to make out your form anywhere. he remained calm but he was a bit worried, you were acting super unstable lately. though he’d never let you know that. he seemingly searched everywhere in depth, before he noticed some items on top of the island counter. switching on the light switch to get a better look. his heart sunk.

the necklace he gave you.

the beautiful ruby anthurium he gave you.

the one you wore every day since.

the one he gave to you as a promise to his love, the love he promised to be undying.

“fuck...”

along with the key to the apartment.

the one you both shared.

he noticed the note, it was written in your handwriting.

‘i hope you love her as honestly as you once loved me. i left everything behind i never want to see again. i won’t be ratting you out and i won’t be returning to you.

good bye, thanks for the memories.

y/n.’

[auratold]

She's alive. He has to keep reminding himself of that. Has to soothe his racing core whenever he sees her falter in her steps. Ren knows Pyrrha is strong, knows she can recover from this. But his own innate instincts want him to fret over her and kill any who look at her and-- Ren is more human than grimm. Has to remember that.

He only lets those possessive, fiercely protective grimmling instincts take over in the dark of night, when he can safely curl his tail around Pyrrha and put his head on her chest to listen to her heart to remind him it still beats. When his eyes look just a touch more red than pink, when his claws rest on the groups blanket Like tonight, where his frame curls up against her and his head carefully rests in it's usual place while trying not to disturb Jaune himself on the other side.

Ren worries a bit more than usual though when Pyrrha's frame shifts to accommodate them both. He can't help it, she needed rest and he might have bothered her-

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up."

Sleeping amongst her teammates tended to quell nightmares of Beacon before they started. Jaune, Nora, Ren- their presence was soothing, never failing to bring a sense of security and home. But neither that comfort nor her aura could damper the lingering pain from her healing wounds. Pyrrha found herself shuffling slightly as she woke, a jolt of pain from her chest registering before the gentle pressure to the side of it, Ren's head no doubt.

"Mm, you didn't wake me, it's alright." Pyrrha starts, her voice thick with sleep. She doesn't want to admit that pain did, doesn't want to worry her teammate. Gods, she's put them through enough, the three of them having to watch her slow recovery from wounds that should have taken her life. Instead, she draws even breaths, focusing on the simple in and out motion than the flare up of pain that had woken her before turning slightly to look at Ren. "Are you okayt? It's bound to be late."

[auratold]

She'd tried to listen and process the general's explanation, to understand the idea he's presenting. But fatigue was taking its toll from hours of training, and Pyrrha could feel a headache blossoming in her temples.

"I believe so." Hours of typical training exercises with her teammates and the Ace Ops, plus working on controlling the pieces of the fall maiden's powers she held, it was draining. Pyrrha had always excelled above her peers, and while she was making strides in recovering lost strength in her heel and controlling the powers, it wasn't easy.

"I apologize but I'm afraid I can't think of any insight to add yet, sir. I'm still working with the others to learn and control these abilities. It's... more challenging than I expected."

@auratold sent: "I'm just - exhausted - I'm sorry -" (from Pyrrha)

Deeply exhausted starters that I crave

"Not a problem, don't worry." The general stopped in the middle of explaining the newest idea for a weapon that maybe, possibly could work against Salem. It was ment for her, as it needed Maiden's magic to power it but...

"Do you need a break?" What good would bring if his best allies would be too exhausted to defend themselves, not to mention protecting other people? It was his duty to keep everyone safe and sounds, friends and subordinates included. "We can continue discussing this at another time."

"If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask." James dropped his voice. It was quiet and casual, not the tone that he used for job related talks. "Your insight is invaluable, but please do not strain yourself. You've already done plenty to help... well, save the world." Lowkey he hated asking her to do even more, then again, did he really have a choice on that? Atlas was his responsibility, so he had to do everything he only could to keep it safe.

[vanserraseris]

END OF PART XIII - Eris and his mother talk. I love the Lady of Autumn, and I really hope we see a lot more of her in the next books. Just a warning that there are mentions of character death. Thank you to everyone who reads.

ash stop making me cry

Prince of Ashes. Part XIII.

masterlist.

“Pity you had not been with them.” 

His father’s words from earlier that morning rang clear in Eris’s ears as he stood outside the door to his mother’s chambers. What if his mother thought the same? Eris did not want to see the Lady of Autumn, he breathed in deeply through his nose as he stood in the hall outside her room.

He could not bear to face her, not after he’d seen her fall to her knees, her hands fisted in her hair, the anguished cry that had left her lips nothing short of horrible. Eris found himself wishing he could hide under his covers like he’d done as a youngling and wait for this storm to pass, all the others had.

Since Maddox had returned, Cato’s and Owain’s bodies with him, the entire Autumn Court had been thrown into chaos. The territory bordering Winter was left without a leader, the Royal Guard was left without a captain, the people were all left shocked. - Maddox had been quick to put the blame on Eris — for not being there, for spoiling Lucien, for fighting to keep the runt alive the day he’d been born. Eris didn’t blame Maddox for being angry, he’d been angry as well.

Eris had broken the arm of a rich lord for expressing his “sincerest apologies,” Eris was positively certain that he had never been sincere about anything in his entirely too long and worthless life. Eris had also attacked his father’s favourite adviser like some wild beast for suggesting he’d planned the whole thing, that he’d wanted Cato and Owain dead. Eris had nearly strangled him, would have killed him, if Priam and Rufus hadn’t been there to intervene.

Eris felt like everything was falling apart.

With one last exhale, Eris knocked softly on his mother’s door. Rufus had begged him to speak to her, tears in his eyes. She’d gone to the courtyard to see the funerary pyres earlier that day and hadn’t spoken to anyone since. His mother did not answer. Eris had not been expecting her to. He pushed the door open slowly, trying to steady his shaking hand.

His mother was sitting on the edge of her large bed, staring at the wall, her russett eyes emptier than he’d ever seen them before. Eris had seen corpses that looked more alive. 

“Mother?” Eris noticed that there were no flames in the fireplace. The constant crackling and snapping sounds of a roaring fire usually set his mind at ease, so with half a thought, Eris lit some of the small candles in the room, the fireplace coming alive with the slight lift of his fingers.

Her voice was void of any emotion as she responded. “I did not ask for you.”

Eris flinched as he walked towards her, “I know.” He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to muster his softer side, he’d been angry and rude all day. Eris was going to be like Rufus, he was going to be kind and loving, he could be kind and loving if he tried. He decided to get on his knees by the edge of his mother’s bed, thinking it would be better if he wasn’t looking down at her as he spoke.

“I did not want children,” his mother whispered, her eyes still staring at the wall. “Not with him.”

“I know.” It was no secret that his mother was sold into marriage with Beron against her will. Sometimes Eris forgot how young she had been when she’d married the High Lord of the Autumn Court, how young she’d been when she’d had her first child.

“I would pray to the Mother, beg her not to bring a child into this home, every night. It scared me, thinking about what he might do to my children. I had thought the Mother was deaf to my prayers when I learned that I was pregnant with you.” The Lady of Autumn turned to face her eldest son, an unreadable emotion in her eyes, “But you were born, and you were small, and precious and I loved you more than anything, loved each of your brothers the same.”

She looked at Eris as tears filled her eyes, “I tried so hard, Eris. You know that I tried?” 

His mother had sounded so uncertain, so unsure of herself. Eris nodded, “We all know that you did your best.” Eris didn’t know if he could actually speak for the rest of his brothers, but even if none of them cared about anything else, Eris knew they cared about their mother.

She took a shaky breath, “I fear that the Mother remembers those prayers, Eris, that she is punishing me for them, and I will be doomed to watch all my sons die.” Eris did not respond, not knowing what to say. On his knees in front of her, Eris felt like he was about to beg for her forgiveness. Perhaps he should. Eris stiffened when his mother lifted her hand. It hovered between them for a moment before she put her hand back to her lap, the black skirts of her dress rustling. “You always did that,” she mumbled. “The only child I'd ever seen flinch away from his mother’s touch.”

He would have rather she hit him. “I’m sorry.” The words coming from his mouth sounded hollow, unused, but he meant them.

She shook her head, red curls bouncing, “It’s hardly your fault.” She turned both her hands, palms up, a silent offering. Eris knew his mother wouldn’t hold it against him if he didn’t reach out to take them. “Have you been to the courtyard?”

Eris placed one of his hands into hers, “No.” Eris didn’t know if he wanted to go, even if all the others had gone. 

She traced his knuckles with her thumb, “You should, they look at peace.” She tightened her hold on his hand, her voice dropping to a whisper again. “I didn’t know it would hurt this much, Eris, like someone’s ripped out my heart.” Tears streamed down her face, and she actually looked like she might have been in physical pain.

She shook her head, “You know, Cato sounded a bit like Rufus when he laughed.” Eris didn't know that, didn’t know what Cato sounded like when he’d laughed, didn’t think he’d heard him before. Eris was finding it hard to breathe. His mother’s grip on his hand tightened even more, “My little boys, Eris, I’ve failed them.” Eris was going to burn the house to the ground. He didn’t think their mother had failed them, he didn’t think if he said it to her it’d make anything better.

“Tell me what to do,” Eris almost begged, “Tell me what I can do to help.”

She took another shaky breath, voice wavering as she said, “I don’t want him to light the pyres, Eris.”

“I'll do it,” he could convince his father to let him do it.

She nodded once, letting go of his hand, “Thank you.”

Eris took that as the dismissal it was, getting back to his feet.

“Eris?” She reached out for the black sleeve of his embroidered jacket, holding it tightly.

He froze, waiting a moment before he asked, “Mother?”

“I love you very much.”

Eris thought he could feel something in him crack, thought he felt something inside him break. Eris didn’t remember the last time someone had told him that and he’d believed it. Eris wasn’t even sure if he believed it now. He leaned down, kissing her cheek as he mumbled, “Love you.”

She let go of his sleeve, nodding once. Eris glanced back to his mother one final time before he left the room. She’d gone back to staring at the wall, unmoving. Eris had never noticed how small she was, how the large skirts of her dress seemed to swallow her whole.

As soon as he’d shut the door behind him, Eris winnowed to the courtyard. It was cool out, the breeze slow and lazy.

In Autumn, funerals started right as the last rays of the sun were disappearing over the horizon, right at the start of the day’s death. The pyres would burn all night — until there was nothing left but ash. He’d have to speak to his father about lighting them, wanting to grant his mother’s wish.

He stood between the two pyres now. Someone had washed away the blood from their faces, had brushed their hair, had placed golden crowns on their heads. His mother was right, they did look at peace. If Eris didn’t know any better, he’d have thought his brothers were sleeping.

Eris looked closely at Cato. Lucien’s kill, a cruel sort of irony that Lucien had thrown one of Cato’s own knives at him. Eris remembered when Cato had been born. His father had put a heavy hand on his shoulder, leaned in close and had told him in a low voice that he was expendable. Eris had been sent to a war camp the next day. It was no surprise that they had resented each other, that they grew more bitter year by year. But Cato had warned him about Beron, and Eris was grateful.

Eris turned to face Owain. He’d been a hero in Autumn, born before the War and grown up to fight in it. Everywhere, people told tales of his victories in battle. It was almost impossible for Eris to believe what Maddox had told them all. Owain dropping his sword as Tamlin lunged at him didn’t seem like a mistake he would have made. Maddox had also made sure to tell Eris that Owain wouldn’t have killed Lucien, wouldn’t have let Cato do it either. For whatever reason, Eris believed it.

Eris awkwardly stood there, well aware that he couldn’t really mourn them, he barely knew them. Eris was certain about one thing — he should have been there, Eris would have been able to stop this from happening.

Eris felt ancient.

With a long sigh, he sat on the ground between his dead brothers. They’d been his greatest rivals, his strongest opponents. There was no other way in the Autumn Court. Eris made a promise to himself that when he became High Lord, he’d change it.

Cauldron, Eris thought, they were all so fucked up. He wondered when Beron had stopped pulling their strings, when the sharp words and harsh actions were no longer dictated by their father, when cruelty had become a part of them. He wondered when they had stopped seeing each other as brothers and started seeing each other as obstacles.

When Eris had been very young, he’d liked sneaking out of the Forest House. He couldn’t do anything, couldn’t really go anywhere, but he sometimes found himself lying on the ground, staring up at the sky. He did the same thing now. Sprawled on his back, Eris stared up at the blue sky, noticing that there wasn’t a single cloud in sight. If anyone walked by and saw him on the cold, hard ground between his brothers’ funeral pyres, surely they would think he’d gone mad, but Eris didn’t care.

Eris figured this would be his last chance to say something to his brothers, but he was old, and he’d seen many die, and he felt as though the dead couldn’t hear him anyway. It occurred to Eris that he could apologize for never being there when they’d needed him, but Eris didn’t think apologies meant much if you weren’t forgiven. Eris took a deep breath, his chest aching, he couldn’t very well say nothing — it didn’t seem right.

His voice wavered as he said, “Cauldron save you,” words he remembered his mother speaking at the pyres of her dead sisters. “Mother hold you. Pass through the gates, and smell that immortal land of milk and honey. Fear no evil. Feel no pain.” They’d felt enough while they’d been alive, Eris thought, Eris understood. He took a shaky breath as he whispered the last words of the short prayer, the wind carrying them. “Go, and enter eternity.”

[lady-himbo]

In Your Shadow

sort of Javier Peña x reader, platonic!Steve Murphy x reader (she/her pronouns; no Y/N used)

Javi keeps getting the credit for work he didn’t do, and she’s pissed. Chaos ensues.

Word count: 2500+

Warnings: angst and frustration, lots of cursing, potentially horrid Spanish (I’m learning, I promise), smoking

A/N: This is based on the song Shadow by Unlike Pluto. You can find pieces of the lyrics in the dialogue. You can also find the translations of everything said in Spanish at the end! Feel free to correct me on anything; like I said, I’m learning Spanish, and I appreciate any advice. <3

“... and thank you again to Agente Peña for providing this invaluable intel.” As the meeting adjourned and several individuals voiced their praise, she charged out of the briefing room and into the office, seething, death-gripping her files to her chest. Hot on her heels, Steve attempted to pacify her.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to steal your thunder, honey. He’s just-”

“What? He’s just what, Steve? A senior agent? Running the show? A man? Tell me, what exactly justifies him getting credit for the shit I’ve worked months on?!” The files were starting to crumple in her grasp.

“Well, I don-”

“This isn’t even the first time he’s done it! He’s gotten recognition for my informants, my intel, my translations, my briefings, my goddamn livelihood!” Her voice was starting to raise in pitch and volume as tears gathered in her eyes. Steve held his hands up, trying to silently reason with her. “I can’t win, Steven! I work my ass off day and night for this fuckin’ job, only to have the rug pulled out from under me because I’m ‘not working as hard’ as holier-than-thou Javier goddamn Peña and his massive ego! I have to live under it and, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, it casts giant shadows!”

Unfortunately, the source of her rage had picked an inopportune time to waltz in. With only a second to register Steve’s panicked look, Javi might as well have wandered into the middle of a firing squad. The execution probably wouldn’t have been half as painful.

“You motherfucker!” she yelled, slamming the now torn and wrinkled papers onto her desk with a clatter. “You lying, power-hungry, manipulative bastard! You fuck every other woman you get the chance to, but you’ve decided to fuck my life instead! I’ve worked for fucking months; hundreds of hours and sleepless nights on this information, and you’ve taken all the credit! Again!”

Javi, oblivious to the full impact of this outburst, opted for the worst possible response. “Come on, sweetheart, we’re working as a team. Plus, you asked me to hand it in to Noonan. If you wanted to take credit for it so badly, you should’ve just talked to her yourself!” Steve visibly cringed and gestured for him to cut it out. Too late.

She stalked forward and, though Javi tried to back up, she had him backed into a corner. “You pompous ass! ¡Más tonto y no naces!” She’d broken out her Spanish. Oh boy. “I can’t even talk to Noonan because she always tells me to run my ideas by your incompetant ass! You cast a shadow over everything I try to do; it’s not like I can get anything worthwhile done when your massive ego’s towering over my ambitions!” She jabbed a finger into his chest, punctuating her words. “Nothing I’ve ever done here has ever mattered to the agency, because I live in your shadow and you’ve taken all of it from me! When will you move out of my way and stop treating me like a fucking doormat?!”

Javi was starting to get defensive, which was never a good sign, especially when Spanish started to get sprinkled in. “¡Oh, lo siento mucho!” he shot back sarcastically. “I wasn’t aware that all the work you get authorized by me to do was proprietary!”

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” she spat. “All you had to do was say the report was from me! It’s not proprietary, Peña, it’s my goddamn right to present the information that I spent my own money, overtime, health, and physical fucking safety to acquire! I’m sorry that I have a genuine interest in making sure this case gets handled right instead of spending my every waking moment getting my dick wet in my informants!”

A small group was starting to gather near the office, waiting to hear if Peña finally got his ass handed to him. This didn’t seem to bother either agent as they glared each other down. With Peña’s pride now on the line, no holds were barred, and he was ready to bust out personal attacks.

“Any competent agent would’ve just handed their shit in themselves, but no, you’ve gotta rely on someone else to do it for you.” He was livid; his pride had been damaged while he was riding the high of gloat and achievement, like getting laid and immediately being punched in the balls. She wasn’t letting this one go, and it was obvious he wasn’t either. “God! You’re like a cloud every time you walk in here, bitching about how little sleep you’re getting or how your work is piling up; a fuckin’ rain on my parade!” He stepped forward, crowding her, his posture more and more assertive with every word. “¡Madura de una vez! You’re an adult, a government agent, taking down a drug cartel run by Pablo fuckin’ Escobar! No one’s getting sleep, and it certainly doesn’t help when you’re whining about it! Maybe if you stopped, you’d have time to turn in your own reports and get the credit you don’t deserve!”

Escobar himself could’ve walked through the office and no one would’ve noticed. Javi’s mouth slammed shut the moment the words left, but they seemed to echo in the eerily silent office. Her shoulders sagged, and she stumbled back a few steps, trying to steady herself.

“Fuck, I-” Javi choked on his words. Her eyes were red, her cheeks stained, but her face was frighteningly level.

“Yeah, tienes razón.” Her voice was hollow, tired. “It’s always stormy lately. I guess I’m just under too much pressure; it’s driving me insane. There’s only one way to relieve it.” She slipped off her gun holster and unclipped her badge, pressing them into his chest. “I quit.” Without a second glance, she stormed out of the office.

Two weeks later, her desk was cleared out, her files and informants were on a list to be redistributed to the rest of the unit, and the office was uncomfortably heavy. Javi was smoking way more than usual, everyone avoided him like the plague, Steve was bored, the case was at a standstill, and the quiet was palpable. She was no longer a colorful presence flitting around the tables, leaving a rainbow of Post-it Notes in her wake, charting cell signals, calling out for advice, chatting on the phone in Spanglish, humming quietly or bobbing her head to the radio, popping up to refill her coffee cup and offering to refill everyone else’s every couple hours, then rushing off to the bathroom when she’d had too much. She was a constant presence the unit soon realized they’d taken advantage of.

The phone on Steve’s desk rang mid-morning, and he stifled a yawn as he picked it up. “Murphy,” he grunted.

“Hey, Stevie,” came a familiar voice. “¿Qué pasa?”

He brightened. “Hey, hon.” He felt some of the tension leave him, but it was still there. “We’re fuckin’ stuck. Nothing’s happening, everyone’s lifeless, and Javi’s still moping. Eso es lo que pasa.” He could hear her breathy laugh; she was always proud when he practiced his conversational Spanish with her. She’d told him she felt it was an honor he was comfortable enough to try it out around her. “What’s up with you?”

“Ahí vamos; he estado mejor. I’m sorry you have to deal with-” she stopped and huffed, then her words became muffled. “Tengo una cita con la embajadora, huevón. ¡Estoy al teléfono!” She yelped. “¡Tócame otra vez y te rompo la nariz!” There was a brief commotion, then a thump, and suddenly, her voice became clear again. “Sorry, I’m waiting on Noonan. I’m supposed to meet with her today to finalize my paperwork.”

Steve sighed. “You’re really going through with this, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” Another voice called her name in the background, then spoke quietly for a moment. “What?! ¿Qué quiere decir ‘no está aquí’?” The voice spoke again, then there was a pause. “Okay… Si, todo bien… Está bien. Listo.” Then, back to Steve: “Noonan didn’t show. Some emergency meeting. Just great; I guess I’m rescheduling.”

“Maybe it’s fate!” Steve teased, only half joking. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Javi trudge across the office to the coffee pot, give it a long, forlorn look, then trudge back towards his desk. His eyes were heavy, his shirt rumpled, even his mustache looked sad. As he plopped down amongst towers of papers, Steve cleared his throat and made a show of nestling the handset under his chin. “Well, whatever the case, that gives me time to convince you to stay with us. Your desk looks stupid empty.” Though he was deliberately looking away, he could see Javi’s head and shoulders snap up like he’d heard a gunshot. On the other end of the line, she laughed.

“Don’t try to sweet talk me, Murphy. I’d welcome the company, though.”

“Of course!” he replied, making sure his smile was as cheesy as possible. “I’ll meet you outside in a little bit?” She agreed.

Steve busied himself with pretending to look busy for the next half hour, then announced he was going to talk to Carrillo. As soon as he turned the corner and was sure he was out of sight, he watched Javi scramble out of his seat and out the door.

Outside the building, she was sitting on a bench, her back turned. Lazy wisps of cigarette smoke danced in the wind in front of her figure, and Javi suddenly felt very insecure. He called her name, uncomfortable with the way his voice wavered. She jumped, then, after a beat, slowly turned towards him. “Come mierda, Javier.” He didn’t let her words deter him, approaching the side of the bench. She glared up at him. “No me joda. I’ll finish up in a second and leave.” He wrung his hands, feeling small under her stare.

“I’m going to sit with you,” he declared.

“Please go,” she said, softer this time. “I just wanna feel the wind one last time before I leave. Just wanna look at this shitty masterpiece of a city; really take it in.”

He ignored her plea and sat, far enough away that he didn’t feel like he was ganging up on her. They just sat, and she took long, deep drags of her cigarette. After she eventually ground the butt into the pavement, he took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry.” He left the declaration hanging in the wind for a moment, before plunging on. “I’m sorry for what I said, and what I’ve been doing to you. I’ve been a selfish asshole, and you were right to call me out on that. I’m not going to convince you to stay, because you don’t deserve to be dealing with my bullshit all the time. You’re talented and selfless and I never appreciated everything you sacrificed for us until it was gone. I just- fuck, I feel like such a piece of shit.”

“You are.” He blinked owlishly. “You’re a self-centered, impulsive manwhore with a weird mixture of self-hatred and a superiority complex. You’ve been a horrible coworker and I almost feel ashamed that I tried so hard to be your friend.” He ducked his head, trying to hide his mortification. “Almost.”

He peered back up at her, cocking his head in confusion. “That said, you’re a great agent, kind and sympathetic when you wanna be, passionate about the work we do, and, when you keep a level head, you’re fun to work with. I don’t know if I can forgive you right now for all the shit you did, but your apology goes a long way. I appreciate that.”

She took a deep breath, then stilled, staring out into the movement and noise of Medellín. He watched her for a few minutes, though it felt like hours. He watched the clenching and unclenching of her jaw, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the flutter of her eyelashes; all the details he’d been too busy to notice. “Penny for your thoughts?”

She looked over, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t know. I’m just thinkin’ about life. What I want to do.”

“I know it doesn’t amount to much, but I’d like you to stay.”

“I can’t- I mean, I can, it’s just that- fuck, I don’t even know,” she mumbled, furrowing her brows to try to stop a tear from slipping down her cheek. “It’s just that, by all official records, I’m pretty much worthless here, y’know? All my abilities go unnoticed and it’s like I’m not even there. I know you don’t mean to stand above me, but you are, and the shadow I live under is killing me. It’s taken my job, my self worth, my… being. I can’t live like that anymore, constantly working at the precipice of death, of destruction, of failure, and the one thing I can do to help isn’t even appreciated as my own. It’s just… cold.”

Javi nodded. “After you left, I went up to Noonan and explained what’d happened; that I didn’t deserve any of the credit I’d been given.”

“Well, that’s not true! The things that you did you deserve credit for. You’re incredibly talented, Javi, just not with my intel.”

“But… you do deserve the credit I get. You deserve so much more than you‘ve ever gotten. What I said was so selfish.”

She grabbed his hand. “Javi, selfishness aside, I know you’re in a dark place. We all are. After all, we’re government agents ‘taking down a drug cartel run by Pablo fuckin’ Escobar’ and we don’t get any sleep.” She smiled at her usage of the words he’d berated her with weeks earlier. “I should’ve taken more initiative to turn in my own work; it was silly of me to put that on you. I know you’ve got your own mess going on. Plus, I said a lot of awful things right back. Most of them I meant, some of them I didn’t, but I could’ve handled it all a lot better. I’m sorry we didn’t work this out earlier.”

Javi squeezed her hand, feeling a little warm tingle in his stomach. “Me too.” He sighed, raking his other hand through his hair. “I- er, we really do need your help. You’re priceless.” She exhaled sharply, tilting her head back and forth as if weighing her options.

“Fine. I’ll talk to Noonan.” Javi’s face lit up. “But on two conditions.” He nodded. “One: I get recognition for my past and future work, and two: you promise to work with me and call on me if we have any issues. We can’t have these communication errors any longer if we’re gonna catch these bastards.” She paused, then smiled lightly. “Also, you owe me a lot of coffee.”

Just as Javi agreed, Steve came out of the building. He stopped a few paces from them, looking back and forth from Javi’s pink cheeks and goofy grin, her teary eyes, and their interlaced hands. “I’m sorry, what did I miss?”

She laughed as they pulled their hands apart and she wiped the tears away. “I’m keeping my job.”

“That’s amazing! …Peña, what did you dose her with?” Javi let out the fakest laugh he could, but smiled along with it. She sighed softly, the breeze dancing across her skin.

“All I want is to cast my own shadow.”

Translations:

¡Más tonto y no naces! - If you were any dumber, you wouldn’t have been born!)

¡Oh, lo siento mucho! -> Oh, I’m so sorry!

¡Madura de una vez! -> Grow up!

tienes razón -> you’re right

¿Qué pasa? -> What’s up?

Eso es lo que pasa. -> That’s what’s up.

Ahí vamos; he estado mejor. -> Fine, I guess; I’ve been better.

Tengo una cita con la embajadora, huevón. ¡Estoy al teléfono! -> I have an appointment with the ambassador, asshole. I’m on the phone!

¡Tócame otra vez y te rompo la nariz! -> Touch me again and I’ll break your nose!

¿Qué quiere decir ‘no está aquí’? -> What do you mean ‘she’s not here’?

Si, todo bien… Está bien. Listo. -> Yeah, all good… all right. Okay.

Come mierda -> Eat shit

No me joda. -> Don’t fuck with me.

[auratold]

She can't help the sigh that escapes her as they sit here in the house in Mistral. In their initial days in the kingdom, Pyrrha had been present alongside her team and friends, attending the meeting at Haven Academy alongside them. But now, with every huntress and huntsman Qrow had attempted to find turning out to be deceased or missing in action, the situation at hand was not in their favor. Staying back was what they all agreed was best for her.

Her injuries had improved enough to return to training alongside the others, but there's much work to be done. Strengthening muscles around her Achilles tendon, restoring stamina and endurance... all of it was going to take a great deal of time, no matter where she'd stood before. "I understand I have a great deal further to go in my recovery before I am ready to return to combat." It's going to take a long time, there's no way around it. "But it's difficult staying here while you all fight."

@fatedmuses

@auratold/@heroftruth asked: i can't do this alone. (For Qrow from Pyrrha)

"Well, it's a good thing you're not alone, isn't it?" Qrow said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You have lots of people willing to help you kid, myself included. I know they'd all be happy for you to lean on 'em."

[fullmetalscullyy]

i will come for you

summary: “Stay where you are. I will come for you. Do you understand me? I will come for you.” Riza spoke once more without thinking but knew in her gut that this was always going to be her decision if the opportunity presented itself. There was no way she couldn’t go to him to help. 

an: after watching the day after tomorrow five days in a row last month i decided to fill a niche au for myself ✨ something short that isn't meant to be taken too seriously lmao i just really wanted to use the quote "i will come for you. do you understand me? i will come for you” for royai :)))))

rated: t | words: | tags: au, the day after tomorrow au, rescue mission, sniper bros havoc and hawkeye on a rescue mission

read on: ao3 | ffnet

“Riza?”

Her head turned tiredly towards her co-worker and oldest friend, wondering what new challenge was coming over the horizon for them now. However, one look at Jean Havoc’s face told Riza Hawkeye this wasn’t related to the global catastrophe happening right now – one she and her team were trying to predict the trajectory of. This was something completely different. There was hope in his eyes – something they’d been severely lacking recently.

“Roy is on the phone. Line two.”

Riza hesitated for a second as she tried to process what Jean had told her. Then, emotion surged within her body and lifted her out of the chair. With an encouraging look, Jean pressed the transfer call button so Roy would come through her phone. Riza quickly accepted and put him on speakerphone. She took a deep breath before speaking.

It had been days since disaster first struck. Days of wondering if he was still alive or not. Being in what was essentially “base camp” for the worldwide operation meant she’d heard the news. She was well aware of what was happening around the world. Riza and her team were the ones tasked with forecasting it all. She’d heard of the tsunami that ravaged New York, where Roy had been at the time of the event. It had been devastating, killing hundreds of thousands in a city where that should never have even happened. Under normal circumstances, that is. Riza had lain awake at night, praying he wasn’t one of the dead. With no way to reach him, she’d never known for sure. When it became too much, she smothered her tears and pushed it down, shelving it for later. She and her team had a duty to the whole world’s population to try and figure this crazy shit out – and how to save as many as she could. Riza couldn’t afford to think of only one person – something Roy would have told her too – and yet, her heart refused to let him go, refused to banish him from her mind. He’d been her best friend. Her partner. How could she simply forget about him?

And now, he was here. Finally.

“Roy?” Her voice was strong as she spoke, but that control was already wavering as hope started to build inside her chest. Riza hunched over her desk, placing both palms flat atop it as she hung over the phone. Jean was right by her side, listening intently.

“Riza! Riza, oh thank God.” Relief clouded his tone but there was something else to it. He sounded off –

“Roy? Where are you?”

“New York Public Library. Riza, what is happening out there?”

Riza swallowed and prepared to break the news. “It’s a superstorm. There’s multiple, all forming over the northern hemisphere.”

“Where we are right now. Typical,” he scoffed lightly. Even in times of strife, he managed to quip a joke. Riza’s heart clenched inside her chest.

“Listen to me, Roy.” Riza leaned in closer to the phone. “You need to stay inside the library. Burn anything you can to keep warm and wait the storm out. Do not go outside. Don’t leave, okay –?”

He gasped and there was a gurgling sound.

Riza froze. What just happened?

Jean looked as alarmed and helpless as she felt.

“Roy? Roy?” Riza and Jean’s commands for him to answer were met with silence.

Suddenly, Roy gasped again, but this was different – like someone gulping down air after being starved of it. He spluttered loudly over the line, coughing roughly.

“Roy!”

“I’m okay,” he reassured shakily. “I’m all right.” There was the sound of him gagging and breathing heavily.

Riza’s muscles shook as her head bowed, thankful he was back on the line.

“Don’t do that to me,” she scolded without thinking, pouring as much of her relief and upset into that one statement.

“Sorry.” He sounded cold. His teeth chattered together violently. The sound was clear over the phone. “You know how I like t – to keep you on your t – toes.”

Riza could picture his grin and she felt tears prick in the corner of her eyes while Jean barked out a relived laugh beside her. His hand came to rest on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze while Riza let out a heavy sigh.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“I s – slipped. The area is filling up with w – water.” He exhaled violently, his teeth still chattering with cold.

“Roy, get out of there. Now.” Alarm bells were going off inside Riza’s head.

“I will. In a second.”

“Roy –”

“I’ve got time.”

“That water will be freezing. Get out because it will only get colder. You need to get somewhere warm and dry.”

“Stay warm. Burn things. Stay inside. Got it.”

“Burn anything you can and don’t let the fire go out, all right?”

“All right,” he replied quietly. “I’ve got it.” There was a beat of silence and she started to fear he’d disappeared again. “I’ll be fine, Riza.” Roy’s reassurance was gentle. She could picture his face as he said it – a smile that reached right up to his eyes, making them crinkle at the edges, his expression holding a softness and affection that he showed only to her.

Moments between them flashed in her mind. The way he was the only person who’d ever made her truly happy, but her dedication to the job kept them both apart. He’d promised he’d wait for her, but Riza could never ask him to do that. A relationship couldn’t exist when she was in the Arctic or in Antarctica for six months – or more – of the year. And yet, every time she returned, he met her with an easy smile and picked up where they’d left off, no questions asked. Her work sent Riza to some of the coldest places on Earth, but when she returned, Roy welcomed her with open arms, and his touch warmed her more than any heat source would ever be able to.

Now the tables were turned, and she would get him out of there.

“Stay where you are. I will come for you. Do you understand me? I will come for you.” Riza spoke once more without thinking but knew in her gut that this was always going to be her decision if the opportunity presented itself. There was no way she couldn’t go to him to help. Riza had the gear and had walked that far before on expeditions. She hadn’t walked it during weather conditions befitting a new ice age, but it could be done. She was sure of it, and she’d do it for him.

“Riza, no –”

“I’ll be there.”

There was a silence on the other end and Riza feared momentarily that she’d lost him. Again.

“See you s – soon, then?”

“I promise,” she vowed.

There was heavy breathing, followed by a loud gasp before the line went dead. Her head snapped up to look at the phone, seeing the screen blink back at her to indicate the call had ended. Riza’s heart rate picked up as her gaze roved over the piece of technology, silently begging it to bring him back.

“Roy?” Jean called to him, a hint of fear in his voice.

Riza straightened her spine slowly but her eyes never left the screen of the phone.

Give him back, she begged it.

Jean placed his hands gently upon her shoulders, turning her in place. Upon contact Riza inhaled sharply as her body started to shake.

“Come here.”

Her exhale was muffled against Jean’s chest as he held her tightly. His hands rubbed her back in comfort, which she was extremely thankful for. She needed it. They were quiet for a few moments as Riza tried to compose herself and banish the images of Roy dying in this storm from her mind.

“Are you sure about going?”

“I can’t leave him,” she whispered into Jean’s chest.

“Riza…”

“I’m going.” Her tone was stronger, and she pulled back slightly, looking up at Jean’s face. His long, blonde fringe fell over sympathetic eyes that were filled with sorrow. “And you can’t stop me.”

Jean shook his head. Riza opened her mouth and geared up for an argument, however that wasn’t his intention.

“I just have one question for you.”

“What?”

Jean’s arms left her shoulders, falling down to her elbows. “When do we leave?”

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

The walls of the library were frozen solid. In all of her expeditions, Riza had never seen anywhere look so frigid before. Frost covered every surface, several inches thick. Nothing had been saved from it. Her stomach clenched as she prayed she wouldn’t find what she feared.

“Riza,” Jean called to her. He had continued walking ahead as she searched everywhere in hallway for signs of life. Jean stopped where the hallway split off into a new one. His torch was pointing towards something and, with her heart in her throat, Riza approached to see what it was.

There, ahead of them both, was a faint orange glow coming out from underneath a closed doorway.

Riza’s movements felt slow and jerky as she walked towards the door, however she didn’t even remember her approach. All of her focus was on the orange light instead. Jean nodded to her in encouragement as they shared a look. With a deep breath, she forced the stiff, frozen handle downwards and pushed it open.

There were people inside asleep before a roaring fire.

The muscles of Riza’s neck trembled as she searched the faces. Desperation made her grip her torch even tighter. She made her way slowly around everyone, starting from left to right. A small dog poked its head up as the light hit them. It was a black and white Shiba, nestled comfortably in their owner’s arms. The dog whined loudly, sitting up straighter and attracting the attention of their owner. However, Riza couldn’t pay attention to them. There was only one face left to search –

There. Beside the fire.

Roy grimaced at the sudden light shining in his face. He grunted and lifted a hand to shield his eyes, managing to crack one of them open. Riza knew she should lower it to remove his discomfort, but she was frozen in place like everything else inside the room.

He was alive.

“Who’s that?”

Riza didn’t recognise the voice that spoke and couldn’t tear her eyes away from Roy long enough to look at their face again. All her worries and fears about what she would find in this library were banished immediately. One look at him squinting into the bright light made her legs tremble and a shaky breath pass over her lips.

Her torch lowered to point at the floor.

Roy stood. His expression was one of wonder as he hurriedly walked around the piles of books and furniture. Jean had stepped forward to see to the other survivors, clapping Roy on the back with a grin and a quick hello. But he didn’t manage to tear Roy’s attention away from her.

They were a step apart when Roy stopped. He hesitated for a second, probably waiting for her to say something, however Riza quickly closed that distance between them. She was overwhelmed by the sight of him and the definitive knowledge that he was okay and unharmed. Her arms wrapped around his torso to squeeze him tightly. Roy did the same and it was difficult with all their layers, but they managed. She pressed her face into his shoulder and squeezed her eyes closed to try and stave off her tears. It was a struggle, as every emotion was surging to the surface and threatening to bubble over.

She was so happy he was okay.

“You came for me,” Roy breathed by her ear. He pulled away and lifted his gloved hands to cup her face. He gazed upon her in awe. “I can’t believe you did it,” he chuckled in disbelief. His exhale warmed the skin of her face beautifully in the frozen room. Just like it had done years prior after returning from a long expedition.

“Of course,” Riza replied simply with her own smile. “I promised you that I would.”

“You… You are amazing.” He leaned forward to press a fierce kiss upon her forehead before bundling her into his arms once more. His cheek rested against hers and Roy lifted a hand to the back of her head to hold her in place.

“And I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” she warned lightly, giving his torso a squeeze.

A laugh rumbled inside Roy’s chest and he nodded. “I can live with that,” he replied softly. “I would be more than happy with that, Riza.”

[set-phasers-to-whump]

the rhythm of the rain keeps time

prompt: storms

whumpee: neal caffrey

fandom: white collar

i feel like it’s been a hot minute since i’ve written wc and i can’t believe how much i missed writing these guys! this was a lot of fun to write and i hope that it’s alright to read! (title from jet pack blues by fall out boy, which has been sitting on my list of song lyrics to use as fic titles since i was like, 15)

Not even a minute after Neal has left his house, a boom of thunder rolls across the evening sky and a heavy rain begins to pour down. Neal keeps walking anyway, despite the storm, pulling his hat a bit lower on his head in an attempt to keep some of the rain off his face. 

The only thought on his mind is the Burkes. While turning around and going back inside, back into the warm, dry air, does sound pretty damn good, he knows he needs to get to their house above all else. He doesn’t know why, exactly. All he knows is that he feels bad, achy and hot with a pounding head, and Peter and El are usually good at fixing things. Ergo, he needs to go see them. 

Neal continues walking through the heavy rain, wrapping his arms around his torso in a rather useless attempt to stay warm. Truthfully, he’s pretty sure he’d been shivering even before it started raining, but if he’d been shivering then, he’s positively trembling now. He doesn’t think he has ever been this cold in his entire life. It feels as though the cold rain has soaked right through his skin and into his bones, like it’s freezing him from the inside out. He tries to walk faster to escape it, but only trips over his own feet, scraping his palms red and raw against the sidewalk when he falls. 

Neal pushes himself back up, wavering on his feet as a sudden rush of dizziness overtakes him. It passes eventually, and he continues walking, determined that he must make it to the Burkes’ house. As soon as he gets there, he knows that everything is going to be okay. He just has to keep walking. 

So he does. He walks, and walks, and walks, and wonders whether the Burkes’ house has always been this far away. At some point, he’s stopped really registering the cold. He wonders whether that might not be such a good thing, but can’t bring himself to care. 

He’s still shaking, and his footsteps take him all over the sidewalk and occasionally cause him to step off of it and down onto the edge of the road. He trips and falls at least three more times, though he’s not really keeping count. He thinks maybe there are holes in the knees of his pants now, which is a shame, since he’d really liked this suit. His shoes, too, have got to be ruined. He’s stepped in several ankle-deep puddles and can feel the water sloshing around inside them, but doesn’t have the strength or dexterity to get them off and get the water out. 

After an eternity of walking and stumbling and freezing and still feeling bad underneath it all, finally Neal sees the Burkes’ house. The lights are on, glowing invitingly, and he hastens his pace, nearly plowing down an old woman who is stepping into a taxi.

“S-sorry,” he manages to stutter out through his chattering teeth, but the word is so quiet he doubts that the woman had heard it at all. 

Going up the steps is one of the hardest parts of his entire journey, which up until now has not taken him on any great changes of elevation. His legs are trembling beneath him, and with every step he takes, he manages to bang his shoes into the stairs. He almost falls more than once, but manages to save himself by gripping onto the railing for all he’s worth. 

He’s fairly exhausted by the time he reaches the top step, and for a second he simply leans on the door and tries to catch his breath. He’s here. And Peter is here, and so is El, and Satchmo, and maybe there’s a fire in the fireplace, or maybe they had something warm for dinner and there are leftovers, or - 

The door opens, and suddenly he’s falling over the threshold, and all he thinks is not again, but before he can hit the ground, someone’s arms are wrapped around him, pulling him back up. 

“Neal?”

“H...hey, Peter.”

---

When a shadow appears on the doorstep shortly after eight, Peter’s a little cautious. Who on Earth would be showing up to his house in the middle of a thunderstorm without advance notice?

He opens the door slowly, a look through the peephole not revealing much in the dark of the late evening, and promptly is reminded of the one person who is the most likely culprit to show up at his house in the middle of a thunderstorm without advance notice.

He catches Neal’s soaking, freezing, shaking form before he can fall to the floor, quickly pulling the door shut behind him. “Neal?”

“H...hey, Peter,” Neal whispers, and Peter can hear his teeth chattering. He has about a million questions running through his head, and no idea which one to ask first, so for the moment, he forgoes any kind of conversation at all and simply shuttles Neal to the bathroom. “You wait here,” he instructs, settling Neal down onto the lid of the toilet. Neal complies easily, looking slightly lost but mostly relieved. 

“What’s going on?” El asks, as soon as Peter steps out of the bathroom. She looks past him, and is then immediately stepping around him and into the bathroom. “Neal, sweetie, are you okay?”

Peter looks on as Neal nods. “Jus’...needed t-to get here,” he says. “Knew I’d be...be okay then.”

El turns to look at him then, a soft expression on her face. “Peter -”

“Towels,” Peter replies, and El nods. 

After a quick trip upstairs to their bedroom and the linen closet, Peter makes his way back to the bathroom with a stack of towels in his arms. Sitting atop them is one of his old Academy t-shirts and a pair of flannel pajama pants, both of which he is hoping will fit Neal well enough. 

Peter pauses in the bathroom doorway with the towels and clothes in his arms. El is in the middle of bandaging scrapes on Neal’s palms that Peter hadn’t even noticed. Neal seems to barely register anything, but he does smile at El gratefully when she finishes. Peter takes that as his cue to enter the bathroom, setting the stack down onto the counter and looking at Neal questioningly.

“I...I got it,” Neal says, sounding about as determined as he can given his current state. Peter elects to believe him, and he and El clear out of the bathroom to let Neal extricate himself from his soaking-wet suit. 

“Do you think he walked here?” El asks, as she and Peter lean against opposite sides of the bathroom door to wait for Neal. 

A particularly loud clap of thunder rattles the windows as Peter says, “I wouldn’t doubt it. The way he looked...how badly he was shaking...he had to have been out in the rain for a while.”

El shakes her head. “He said he needed to get here.”

“I know,” Peter replies. “I just don’t know why.”

A few minutes later, Neal emerges from the bathroom. He looks a little out-of-place in pajamas, and his hair is sticking up in several different directions. This, frankly, worries Peter. He’s never known Neal to let his hair get messed up, even on the worst of days. 

“How do you feel?” El asks, as she and Peter each wrap an arm around Neal’s shoulders and guide him to the couch. 

Neal shrugs. “Not as cold,” he says, though he’s still shaking. “Still bad.”

“What do you mean, ‘still bad’?” Peter asks. He and El let Neal sink down onto the couch, and he grabs the blanket draped over one of the armrests, draping it over Neal’s shoulders. 

“I felt bad, before. ‘S why I came,” Neal explains. 

“Bad how?” El asks. 

“Just bad. Achy and hot and my head felt funny. ‘M not that hot anymore but everything else...” Neal trails off. 

“You’re probably sick,” Peter says, feeling slightly exasperated that Neal had put himself through the ordeal of walking to his house in a storm because he felt bad. Did he not realize that he had a phone?

“I guess,” is Neal’s reply. “Knew you could help.”

El and Peter turn to each other at the same time, both wearing similarly fond - if exasperated - looks. 

“Of course we can help,” Peter says. “But, you know, you could have just called me.”

Neal raises his eyebrows and says, “oh,” as though the thought is just now occurring to him. “Are you mad?”

El sinks down on the couch next to him. “Of course we’re not mad,” she says. Neal turns his head to look at Peter, who moves to sit on Neal’s other side. 

“Of course not,” Peter echoes. “You’re always welcome here, and I’m glad you came to us for help instead of suffering on your own. Even if you did end up causing yourself more suffering in the process.”

Neal nods, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. He’s almost stopped shaking, Peter notices, which he takes as a sign that he and El can move from unfreezing Neal to getting him some help with his sickness. From what Neal had said, it’s most likely just a fever, which is a relief, because making it better does not require a trip to the drugstore in this weather. 

Peter and El both stand up at nearly the same moment. “We’ll be back,” El promises, and Neal nods, the rather forlorn look on his face brightening up considerably when Satchmo comes down the stairs with a cheerful jangling noise and promptly curls up at his feet.

Peter and El head into the kitchen, where Peter grabs some tylenol and a thermometer, and El makes a cup of peppermint tea. They return to the living room with their items to find Neal nearly asleep, still sitting up on the couch. Peter gently shakes his shoulder, and Neal opens his eyes. “I was gonna sleep,” he says, rather petulantly. 

“You can sleep in about two minutes,” Peter promises. “But you came here because you’re sick, so we’d like to help you out with that before you crash on our couch.”

“Okay,” Neal agrees, keeping his eyes open. Peter presses the thermometer to his forehead. 

“101.3,” Peter reports. “Nothing worrying, but it’s probably a bit higher since you’re still a little wet.” He hands Neal the tylenol, and El passes over the cup of tea. Neal swallows the pills dry, makes a face, then cautiously takes a sip of the tea, his hands wrapped firmly around the mug to absorb its warmth. 

Neal makes it about halfway through the tea before setting the cup back down onto the table, lying down curled on his side, pulling the blanket securely over himself in his new position, and promptly falling asleep. El and Peter share another look, all fondness this time, before turning off the living room lights and retreating to the dining room table, where they can sit and watch the storm rage outside, have some tea themselves, and talk about the conman-turned-something-like-family that is currently asleep on their couch.

thanks so much for reading this fic! fun fact it is my 100th fic posted to ao3 :) it’s somewhere around like my 140th on here which is not exciting but yeah. cannot believe how much stuff i have written? insane. anyway i hope you enjoyed! love y’all!

[arahul-abyssia]

Reminiscence

Nintember story #2! (@starprincesshlc , @jklantern ). I have once more elected to write about Feelings™, but this time from a perspective I feel we rarely ever get to properly see...

~~ Wings, Laughter, Mother, Fantasy, Star ~~

When we first met, I was afraid. I had known, for as long as I could remember, that I would eventually have to leave those I had grown up with, and that I may very well never see them again. My purpose had been taught to me from the beginning, but even still, I was scared.

And so, that fateful day, I shied away, resisting the sensation in my body to flee and hide. The other two brought before you alongside me ought to have been more preferable choices; one was eager to show off every skill they knew, few though they were at the time, and the other was excitable and affectionate, quickly trusting without a second thought. But you chose me anyway; me, the one who flinched at your touch and shivered at your embrace.

I did not know what to think at first, but then, you gazed at me with those shining eyes, and smiled at me for the first time in that way you always do, and spoke to me in that soft and caring voice. And it must have been those expressions that, all at once, pierced through my fear, because in that moment, just as you chose me, I chose you.

You brought me before another, one more individual who I had never met, one who looked quite a lot like you. She knelt to look me in the eye, and reached out toward me, and once more I shied away. She did not persist in her attempt, as you did, but instead stood and looked at you with an expression that mirrored the one you gave me, and spoke to you with the same quiet and warm voice. I cannot truly describe the revelation that that was, but it too began to chip away at my unease.

Then, you waved at her, and we left, and for a time, it was just the two of us. We wandered through woods and fields, alone, only joined by others when we came upon other towns, obtaining food and supplies, sleeping, and then heading out once more in the morning. I still remember the first of these now-countless nights, where, in that tiny room, I awoke to the sound of your crying. I looked at your face, wet with tears, and saw your eyes shining in a far different way, a far worse way. You reached out toward me, slowly, and I leaned into your touch, and you confided in me how afraid you were, how new and unknown the path that lay before you was. In your eyes I saw a reflection of my own fear, and in that instant I vowed to do whatever I could to help rid you of as much of that fear as I could. I wanted desperately to tell you this, aloud, in words you could understand, but I believe that you saw my expression as I made my promise, and understood anyway.

It was not long after that when someone appeared before you and challenged you. I knew, too, that such encounters were but a natural part of my life, and almost all of those like me, but my unease rose once more, and though my vow struggled to push it back, I stood and faced the other’s partner, maintaining as brave a face as I could muster. Though the voice with which you gave me instructions was loud and forceful, I could still feel the same gentleness and care, and despite neither of us having ever before engaged in a true battle, we emerged the victors. The joy I saw in your eyes, the elation I felt in my own soul… From then on, I wanted to bring about our triumph again and again.

However, it was not long after this that we experienced our first loss. That battle was to be the first of several great milestones on this path of yours, and we came agonizingly close to victory before suffering defeat. Your confidence in me never wavered; though I placed blame upon myself for failing to fully carry out your commands and underperforming in light of the pressure, you were insistent that the fault lay only with you, for not strategizing as well as you could have and not training and strengthening the both of us as much as you should have. To this day, I do not know where the cause of our failure truly lay, but we strove to be better, and in the rematch, we secured victory.

A part of me, a small but vocal one, wished that our journey would remain ours alone, but alas, that is not how the story goes, and you had soon found another friend and partner… and then another… and, eventually, three more. And each time, though it pains me to admit and though I hate to have even remotely thought this way, that same part of my mind feared you would begin to love them alone, and turn your back on me. But for each new addition to our team, you treated them with the same love and care you showed me, in the ways they wanted and needed, never diminishing in what you gave me or any of the others. And though they returned each time, even for your sixth and, so far, final new partner, those jealousies were always soon surely and utterly dashed.

In the early days of our journey, you were stunningly focused upon battles and strength, always seeking out new opportunities for us to grow and new techniques to use in fighting. But over time, you seemed to branch out, to take days more slowly and try new things. You had us all take part in several competitions that wanted us to use our combat abilities in different and strange new ways, and we did rather well in all of them. We participated in several contests of performance, and though we did our absolute best, we were almost always outmatched. We even attempted to compete in a few challenges about food preparation, and did not win a single one. But for you, it was never about winning. No matter how many times we thought we had failed you, you assured us that it was only about the experience, to taste all the opportunities that your vast world has to offer, never faltering in your determined smile and kind laughter.

In the later parts of our adventure, we spent more time in the wilderness, sleeping under the open sky instead of in rooms of metal and wood, huddled upon the ground around small fires instead of upon soft cushions around dimly-lit tables. I recall those nights most clearly, when we all would lay gazing up at the stars and clouds, unbothered and unburdened. We could not truly talk about what we saw or how we felt, for that is one of the few curses of this world that precious few can ever break, but our bonds and connections, I believe, still let the essence of these thoughts pass between us, just as they did that very first night. Once, when I caught your eye, I renewed my vow that I made to you in that fateful moment, trying once more to communicate it to you through expression alone. I may not have powerful wings to carry you amidst the winds, or strong flippers to show you the depths of the seas, or a vast body to wholly shield you from every storm, but I swear I shall do everything in power, and more, to protect you, to guide your way through darkness, through trials and tribulations alike, just as you have guided me.

I am larger now, stronger now, as are you. We have both come farther than I could ever have fathomed. You pushed me to be the very best that I could be, and though perfection is never truly achievable, I have chased it relentlessly, always reaching for new heights. Now, we stand at the culmination of all our victories, the final battle, the fight whose victory shall prove a crowning achievement in our long, long journey, a journey which shall not end upon our triumph, but merely be born anew, turning onto the next page.

For you, for me, for our friends, for all of us, for every joy and hardship we experienced along the way, I swear upon all that is my being that we shall prevail this day.

[missyoumaybank]

I lost a friend

Law of acceptance- I lost  A friend p1.

Not my gif^

Word count- 1.6k

Warnings- mentions of panic attacks, swearing, overall angst

JJ Maybank x Routledge reader!

Ever since John B and Sarah disappeared In the storm, things haven’t been the same for the pogues. They’d still hangout every day and hope that the pair would give some sort of sign or clues that they were still alive, but amongst all the drama circulating with ward and the young teens, things started to fall apart quite easily. It was like a disaster waiting to happen.  

JJ went rogue, his current ways heightening to a point beyond belief. Every second day, you’d be down in the station bailing him out for something stupid. ‘’C’mon, it wasn’t even that bad!’’ He’d say pleadingly, trying to coax you into feeling guilty for him, and you did, every single time. Along the way, your friendship with jj began to fall apart, constantly arguing and avoiding each other when possible, rather than sorting things out. It was getting unbearable and you hated it. The chateau was currently occupied by you and JJ, refusing to go back to his fathers after taking the phantom.

   Although you and J were only friends, there was unacknowledged feelings for one another, you felt a need to care for him and he cared for you more than anything else. It was always you and J against the world. There had been moments between you, such as your firsts, first kiss, first time etc, and some out of the blue moments. It confused you, you didn’t know what you were but every time you asked, it was always ‘’Best friends’’.  John B had encouraged you to shoot your shot, despite jj being your brothers bestfriend.

It was late in the evening, the sun beginning to set and you began getting nervous, taking note of the time and jj still wasn’t back from work. Agonizingly, you sat out on the porch with a blanket wrapped around you, fidgeting at the feeling of the scratchy material.

You didn’t mean to pry, but when you saw jj come home from work with a black eye, and dozens of cuts, questions flew around ‘’Can you please stop being up my ass for 2 seconds? Literally, its like you’ve nothing better to be doing other than being a bitch’’ He huffed, wanting to just shower and sleep, slamming the door behind him. As you stood there in shock, you decided not to follow, settling yourself in the hammocks instead. Tears pooled in your eyes, your heart breaking by the second.  You wanted the old jj to come back , but unless John B came back, there was no way in hell that was happening anytime soon.  

JJ was cursing himself, knowing you hated being called out for caring about others, suffering enough as you grew up with constant worry that one day she might lose someone she loves. She worried too much about others rather than herself and jj would constantly remind her to be selfish once in a while, but she never listened.

In your sleepy state, you felt jj climb in the hammock with you, quiet sniffles coming from the blonde boy. Turning to face him, you saw his blotched face, tears glistening against his skin. You wiped under his eyes, clearing away the tears. Wrapping an arm around him, his face rested in the crook of your neck, cuddling into your side.

‘’Im sorry’’ he mumbled quietly, playing with the string from your top. Nodding without saying anything, you covered the blanket over the two of you and kissed his forehead, soft snores coming from him in an instant.

 As the summer came to an end, one last kegger was thrown and it was deemed to be the best one yet. The gang sat around the fire pit, basking in the ocean breeze and the atmosphere they wouldn’t see until next summer. There were a bunch of kooks who surprisingly weren’t causing any trouble and the last of the remaining tourons as the season came to an end.

J was acting weird with you, not like it was much of a surprise, but none the less , it made you feel uncomfortable. You couldn’t bare his behaviour and outbursts anymore, it took a huge toll on your mental health, but as always, you put JJ and the others before yourself. Kie snapped her fingers in front of you, breaking your train of though. She looked at you with a questionable expression , indirectly asking if you were okay. You nodded at her, but it was a lie. Panic began building up inside of you and you didn’t know what was causing it. JJ gave you a glare, seeing your leg fidgeting and it seemed to annoy him, just like everything seems to nowadays. He knew what was happening but he didn’t seem to give a damn, just as your breath hitched.

You didn’t want to cause a scene in front of the others and you grabbed the person that was closest to you, which happened to be Pope , while you began breathing eratically, feeling as if you couldn’t breathe. Pope was confused as to why you were reacting this way and kept asking what was wrong, but you couldn’t hear him.

For sure, you knew you were having a panic attack, but again you didn’t want pope to worry. ‘’I’m fine nevermind, go back its fine’’ you stuttered, not grasping the feeling in your hands. He sat down beside you, and grabbed your hand, starting to tap his finger tips on yours. As you started to calm down, your breathing regulated itself. ‘’It helps me calm down when I have panic attacks’’ he said sympathetically, wishing everyones pain would disappear. Looking up at him, seeing the sad look on his face, you sobbed and broke down.

The sobbing continued, feeling like the whole world was crumbling around you and awaiting the impact. Pope embraced you, trying to calm you again before getting worked up all over again. Without paying attention to what was going on around you, jj stumbled up to the pair and felt a burning pit in his stomach, seeing you in popes arms.

In that time, jj stormed up and had swung at pope, clearly not in the right head space .’’What the fuck jj? He exclaimed, pushing him, which led to them throwing digs at each other.  ‘’Why are you so loved up around my girl?’’ he slurred, putting extra emphasis on ‘my girl’

You scoffed at his words, him turning to look at you with a narrowed expression.

‘’Your girl?

He nodded at you as if you had said the dumbest thing in the world. Shaking your head, you moved closer to him. ‘’Why are you making ‘your girl’ feel so shit then? ‘’ she pried, finally done with his attitude. He laughed tauntingly. ‘’I’m making you feel shit? Have you seen the way you’ve been treating me y/n?’’

She couldn’t believe the boy in front of her, accusing her of making him feel terrible. ‘’Have you stopped and maybe think for a minute jj, that everything is going to shit because of you?’’ she inquired, genuinely intrigued by what he has to say.  He didn’t answer, but you kept pressing at him, wanting him to own up to his shit.

‘’Fuck you little routledge! It should’ve been you on that boat instead of John B!’’ He screamed, his blood boiling with hatred for the girl he loved.

Everything was quiet, the music was off and a circle had surrounded the 3 of you. JJ’s chest heaved, out of breath from his remark. You looked at him with pure disgust and tears blurring your vision.

‘’I hate you Jesse Jameson Maybank!’’ You roared, rushing towards him to slap him. Kie had grabbed you at your waist, preventing you from making a bigger mistake that you’d regret.

‘’And I fucking hate you too little routledge!’’ Jj smirked, getting the reaction from you that he had expected. Although he had said all that, he didn’t mean it. He did it to protect you.

 The morning after last night’s events, y/n was wallowing in a state of depression, spiralling out of control. She loved jj but by god did she hate him also. She wanted nothing more to be wrapped in his arms, but after that, she doesn’t think she ever would be again.  A loud knock on the door disrupted her thoughts. She pushed herself out of bed to go to the patio door. Immediately, seeing who it was, she turned around not wanting to see him.

‘’Y/n, please im sorry!’’ He pleaded, his voice cracking.

‘’That was the last straw jj, im sick of it and im sick of you’’ she stated, not looking at him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. ‘’Can I make it up to you somehow?’’ he muttered, knowing full well he could never make it up to her.

‘’The best thing that you could do for me right now is to never speak to me again’’ vocalizing the harsh reality, she felt bad, but she needed to.  His mouth widened in shock, not believing her words.

‘’but what about us? You know? The infamous blondies?’’ His voice wavering at the thought of losing you. He couldn’t believe he was losing you that easy, like a set of keys.

‘’I can’t do this anymore j’’ she cried, wanting things to go back to the way they were at the start of summer. He fidgeted in his spot, not knowing what to do.  ‘’Where am I meant to go?’’ whispering quietly, looking up at you. You could feel the guilt build up but you couldn’t stand down.

‘’I’m sure Ms.Lana would love the company’’

He looked at you, looking for any sign for him to stay, while he saw the pleading look in your eyes for him to stay, he knew he had to do the right thing.

‘’I guess this is it then’’

‘’Bye jj’’.

Taglist!-

@afterglowsb-tch13​ @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar​ @lavendersunflower​

 this chapter is a mess im sorry

[auratold]

start from the beginning. (from vol 3 Jaune about you know everything lmao)

buckle up I'm taking us back to 2017 bbyyyyy

Her throat feels tight, the effort it takes to swallow increasing. Pyrrha presses her hands against the metal of her armor above her knees, anything to brace them against something sturdy to prevent her partner from noticing how they shake. It's likely a fruitless effort, although Jaune has only been in her life for a semester and a half, he knows her better than anyone. At least the cool of the metal against her skin is grounding, anchoring her to the present and helping her breath through the mounting anxiety.

She's supposed to keep this quiet; the information the Headmaster and professors have shared with her, this knowledge that maidens exist and someone attempted to steal one's powers. It's something they trusted her with, something she intended to not break as she contemplated the decision asked of her.

But her partner had noticed the change in her demeanor, even if no one else had. "I don't know where to start." The admission slips her lips, a heavy sigh following.