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@straythunder
iâm abt to go to sleep but winter is a trans woman and u canât change my mindÂ

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â i do not tolerate a world emptied of you. i have tried. â (for blake from ilia)
DEATHLESS.
there are many forms âiâm sorryâ can take when words themselves fail to carry the weight of a guilty heart. one, a head bowed as eyes focus anywhere except tanned skin, warm eyes. two, her hands wringing together as she waits for when regret becomes a window that can show ilia her heart without saying a word. waiting. wary.
âilia i, i ââ how can she apologize when the sound of a bullet dodged still rings in her ears late at night? when each breath since that day has only come easier? she canât. thereâs guilt, and then thereâs remorse.Â
âyou donât have to anymore.â blake tries to form the words into a promise but so little seems certain in the wake of the fires. of the night he was the one that fled first. she canât. this is no time for promises, but it is time for hope â one thing sheâs learned how to hold in abundance since she threw her fate off a moving train.
three, her hands take iliaâs. if she presses their palms together hard enough the line that splits their palms align and itâs the only promise that she can manage. the only apology she can press into skin that matters. âiâm here. weâre here. i wonât run again.â
                        RED. WHITE. BLACK. YELLOW.                          team rwby is back together!                         rwby multi - muses. personals donât interact.
â you are a hedgehogâs ass. â (for sun)
DEATHLESS.
âonly one of us is prickly enough for that title and it ainât me, schnee.â

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â itâs possible you chose an unfortunate poem to recite, my love. â (for blake from adam)
DEATHLESS.
âa curse is on her, if she stay â â sheâs imagining a boat drifting far, far away and the chance to lay down. to breathe a quiet rest at last. sheâs imagining what he would look like if he stopped breathing. â â her weaving.â
âbut the interesting thing about the way the line splits. sheâs cursed if she stays, but sheâs cursed if she stops what sheâs doing. so what do you think she does?â blake ignores the way he says âmy loveâ and instead continues her questions. her voice is tempered steel â him, the fire she had passed through to stand unbent before him now. sheâs thinking of a boat untied from a dock, a train unhinged from itâs cars. sheâs thinking about the courage it takes to rather die than remain.
âshe leaves, because as it continues to say, sheâs half-sick of shadows. she kept looking down at all the lives better than hers in the tower and she left.â the book is closed and blake rises  ( almost steps toward him before she remembers the shadows that cling to his every bone. remembers the courage it takes to turn her back ) âitâs not an unfortunate poem, adam. itâs my favorite.â
@straythunder kill me challengeÂ
n ora v.alkyrie but her shoes are r.ock l.ee's weights and she dropped them to fight hazel
fingers twist and braid copper hair, a softness in her heart, a companionship she'd always desired in the deepest parts of her soul now flourishing before her. â you know, i always wanted to have a sleepover... â - pyrrha to nora
DEATHLESS.
âhave you never had one before? like, never ever?â sheâs trying not to jerk her head around to stare in disbelief at pyrrha. fails and feels the braids come loose where they tangle her hair. oh well. itâs not like she had that much to braid in the first place.
âwell, we have to have a pillow fight and eat popcorn and play pranks on each other. i mean, the last one might be a bit hard since we canât blame it on anyone else since itâs just us but --- â inhale, nora, inhale â --- i mean if you say ren put whipped cream in my hand and tickled my nose iâd pretend to believe you, at least!â
sheâs all smile as her hands fix her hair. mischief shines hardly hidden in vibrant eyes. âor we could always prank the boys. iâll get a bucket.â
â for you alone i will be weak. â from qrow, to winter.
DEATHLESS.
âonly me?â sheâs been told lies before and had half a heart to believe them, if only to entertain the dreams of a girl hoping for a place to call home. but she knows what the smell on his breath means and it reminds her too much of a place sheâd left behind. the dreams of a girl with no home left. sheâs believed lies before and theyâve broken her heart each time.
ânot your family? those that trust you?â heels click across the floor until she stands so close she could touch him if she wanted to  ( she does â but thatâs another story. one sheâll never have the heart to tell ) instead her eyes only stare up into his with all the walls she learned how to build in the absence of home. if her hands shift towards him itâs only to push him away  ( so she tells herself. but sheâs never been one to believe lies ) âwhy is it only your weakness that you offer me, qrow? what about everything else? anything else?â
for you alone i will be weak. she doesnât know what it means. when weakness exposed means manipulation, means defeat, means a throat bared and ready to be torn apart. does he mean to say his throat is hers? or does he mean he trusts her with it â with the blood humming beneath his skin and the knowledge that she could sink her teeth into him yet she doesnât? do you trust me, qrow? she wants to ask but that isnât something either of them can answer. it isnât something that could ever be enough.
winter raises her hands and itâs to push him from her â but it stops short of violence and instead her palms rest over his heart. her words are a chill across his throat. âwhat else will you be, for me?â

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â men, they feel nothing like what we must endure. â winter to eira
DEATHLESS.
then men are weak but she can only think of one which lacks a spine. who sees their warriorâs resolve as a burden and an inconvenience. who would try to take all their successes in his palm and crush them like iris petals. how much sweeter heâd feel for it and so they fight. theyâve always been fighting.
âpoorer they are for it, then, sister.â eira wishes that the words âiâm tiredâ didnât feel like defeat upon her lips. instead she leans her head on winterâs shoulder and hopes that itâs enough to beg for a moment. we have gone through hell and come out wreathed in sword and flame --- not so many could say the same. but thereâs always been something in her burning heart that feels too much like desperation. âmaybe when all is said and done heâll know regret for what heâs done. i only hope that itâs not too late for our brother. iâm afraid heâll know soon, too.â
â kiss me again, & iâll go anywhere. â - blake & sun.
DEATHLESS.
âanywhere?â one hand cups her cheek so gently it may as well be a breeze.  ( he would never make her feel caged / closed in. if she knows only how to run he'll make sure she has no need to )  the other is in her hair and it doesnât tangle --- instead he remembers his mother weaving beneath the desert sun. his smile is a confidence that masks his pounding heart and the tremble to his fingertips.
this close he counts her eyelashes and thinks of some stupid line about how if her eyes are gold like treasure then maybe heâs a scoundrel. a pirate hoping for just a glimpse of a glory brighter than any before.  ( but then it sounds like he wants to steal her eyes and that? that doesnât fit too well in his narrative ) so maybe her eyes are just eyes and maybe heâs thanking every god in the sky for the chance to see them. and maybe his hands are shaking against her skin but maybe sheâs distracted by the press of his mouth against hers.
âwhere do you want to go?â heâs not smiling because teeth against lips is a weird sensation but his voice carries all the warmth it can. another kiss --- a place where theyâll go together. a third kiss --- another journey. âwe can start there.â
â i am not a little boy anymore, dazzled by your magic. â - whitley & winter.
DEATHLESS.
âwere you ever?â she wishes that she could smile but her memory is lost to a time when he was younger and they sat in the dark of her room together. younger, before dinner meant a battleground and each word could be sharpened blade. his blue eyes lit by light of the glyph in cold marble and from it --- a summon. how they would watch it move and dance and there would be no expectations waiting at the end.Â
she wants to reach out to him and remind him that her name should mean sister still. but who knows how jacques defined her in her absence. ( she can only guess with how whitley surveys her now. canât fault him for the faith he has in his father still ).Â
âhave you found your own, then? would you dazzle me, instead?â
â itâs not so bad, my darling. being dead. itâs like being alive, only colder. â - pyrrha & jaune.
DEATHLESS.
you used to be the sun. he wants to scream but itâs no use in his dreams, where all his pleas and griefs are kept locked in his rib cage. you used to be a fire burning so bright i would burn myself just for a chance to hold you.
here he moves too slow to reach for her in time and his outstretched fingers form the shape of every regret heâs had since that night. first they look like her back, retreating to the tower to do whatâs right and brave. next they look golden and shining, giving his aura to weiss to bring her back from the edge of the abyss where she teetered after haven. finally theyâre just his hands. trembling where they should be strong.
i could have saved you. if death is cold then his life left this world when hers did because thereâs no warmth to him now. only realization. he was never meant to fight because his hands could heal and he thinks of her alone on the rooftop. what he could have done if he hadnât run. if heâd been strong like her fire. warm with her courage. if death is cold then theyâre closer together than jaune realized.
i could have saved you.
his fingers reach out to her and still touch nothing.

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DEATHLESS.
the following prompts were taken from the novel deathless by catherynne m. valente, an american novelist & poet. the novel was loosely based on the tale of koschei the deathless, incorporating other elements of russian mythology, & setting it against the backdrop of the russian revolution. feel free to change the pronouns / prompts as you see fit, but be warned â below the cut, itâs quite long !
â the service of your body is not yours to give as you please. â
â you probably wonât survive. â
â go. run. donât look behind you. â
â i have come for the girl in the window. â
â i will never be without information. â
â i will see him with his skin off before i fall in love. â
â if the world is divided into seeing & not seeing, i will always choose to see. â
â secrets are jealous things, permitting no fraternization. â
â no, itâs not like that, when magic comes. â
â magic does that. it wastes you away. once it grips you by the ear, the world gets quieter & quieter until you can hardly hear it at all. â
â the sight of it bruised my heart so that i cannot think about anything else. â
â iâll be so quiet, iâll never talk again. â
â keep me & obey me, for i am your husband, & i can destroy you. â
â i shall be clever, & i shall not let him go. â
â it is a new world, & we do not wish to be left behind. â
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he places a hand on her shoulder, and drops a kiss atop her head. it lingers a moment, before he pulls back. "you know, right?"
stay safe, nora. he says when she has her hand on the door frame and it reminds her of their childhood. when his hand was on her arm, holding her back as they hid beneath the stairs to a strangerâs home. waiting for the storm to pass --- long before they knew just what they were able to weather.
youâre not alone. some nights his memories are too much like the monsters they hunt now. like the monsters of kuroyuri taking away everything they ever knew of home. forced them to redefine home as this: (pn.) lie ren, nora valkyrie. / (n.) synonymous with safety. and she talks too much most days but when his quiet becomes a different kind, she sings. poorly. but itâs easier to get lost in her off-key lullaby than the feeling of claws passing in front of his face.Â
if thereâs a magic to their survival it comes in the form of every smile he gives her. she folds their memory up like a napkin and slips it into her jacket pocket to pull out on the days when her fear becomes claws and red eyes. weâre gonna be okay. they could call him the moon for his quiet and they would be wrong. heâs every sun and star burning at the darkness that would have swallowed her whole.
you know, right? his lips on her head turn her heart into a dandelion blown by the wind. she could grow into nothing but flowers from his touch and if heâs the sun, then sheâs the earth pulled around and around.  ( not for the first time sheâs thankful that she doesnât get dizzy ) you know?
âyeah. i know.â she talks too much most days. and it would be easy to turn the silence into a confession they both donât need to hear but she doesnât. her hand settles on top of his and she smiles. leans into him like gravity. âi do, too.â