#it’s time for a little revenge — he was a moth to the flame she was holding the matches | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

powderblueblood · 1 year ago

Note

🎵 + Steve or Eddie please :)

send me 🎵+ character name and i’ll write a lil blurb inspired by a song from their playlist (you can also request songs and i will do my level best. god is a dj and i'm god)

▶ IN MY BED - AMY WINEHOUSE

yours is a familiar face, but that don't make your place safe or you're fucking both steve and eddie on a casual basis and they're kinda clingy and jealous like peanut and butter

an: OH SHE'S SMUTTY. is this on either of the playlists i've made for steve or eddie. technically no. did i just hear it on shuffle and get inspired to write about having a hawkins slut era. technically yes. but the best part is you asked for steve or eddie and you got both, anon!!

MINORS FUCK OFF - warnings: heavy smut from the get-go; unprotected p-in-v, allusions to cunnilingus and fellatio, public sex, semi-mean!reader, leaving steve with blue balls, forceful!eddie, some mild degradation (use of the word slut, etc), hope u enjoy and hope we can coerce them into a threesome some day. it would save reader so much time

word count: 3.6k

You can't keep playing with boys like that, y'know. Somebody's going to get hurt.

As long as that somebody isn't you, you're pretty far past the point of giving a fuck.

You had emerged from the painful chrysalis of Hawkins adolescence with a great rack and a huge fucking chip on your shoulder. So much time wasted, lingering in the limbo of awkwardness and timidity, not even with the credit of being humiliated by your peers. You were glossed over, completely unnoticed by the opposite sex (and even the same sex that you'd daringly fantasize about in the dark of night).

You spent so much time sitting with your hands stuck shyly between your legs that it was only right that King Steve Harrington is now pleadingly prying them apart.

"What time did you say you had to leave, again?" he says, voice strained against the shell of your ear. Steve's fingers are making dents in the softness of your inner thighs as he spreads your legs further and futher away from one another. You're sitting pretty on his kitchen table, a place you'd chosen on purpose because from there, you could flash him the bright blue of your panties under your short, short work skirt.

Work skirt was a loose term, but you found you made better tips at the Hideout when you dressed more scantily than you'd like. Something something clientele, something something dinner and a show.

Something your co-worker had said.

All you knew was whenever you showed up at Steve's dressed for a bar shift, it drove him crazy. It drew him right to you, moth to flame, fly to spider's web, turning him all desperate and whining and eager to please. Like a dog.

"Mmm," you hum, glancing at your watch, "'bout fifteen."

You loved driving Steve crazy. Thrived on it– and part of it was a private revenge fantasy. All those years gone by using him as shower nozzle masturbation material, and now you were the one he couldn't get enough of.

His nose teases at your lips as he continues to massage into your thighs. And you admit, he's good with his hands– deliberate pressure, making the wetness at your core spread.

"Call off. Say you're sick," and his right hand is pulling at the gusset of your panties. Your hips keen toward him, an automatic response, and he strokes a knuckle down the glistening slit of your lips.

"Sick how," you ask, not really desiring an answer, talking just to talk as you web your fingers into his hair. You've noticed that the only time he's not precious about it is when you're about to fuck. Then, you can muss up his hairdo all you want.

"I couuuld," he murmurs, "make you scream my name so loud--"

The middle and ring fingers on Steve's right hand sinks inside you, down to the knuckle. You swallow a little moan, but it strangles itself out anyway.

"--that they think you have laryngitis."

You skitter out a snort, despite the fact that he's stroking you real nice with his fingers. It's so silly; it's exactly the kind of thing you'd come to expect from Steve. You used to overhear Nancy Wheeler in the hallways being all, you're an idiot, Steve Harrington. Tone dripping in affection. And you got it now, you did.

"Come on," he says, tongue ghosting at your neck as the pad of a finger circles that drop of nerves between your legs, "Take the day." He swallows. "Stay with me."

But you weren't his fuckin' girlfriend.

To be completely straight, you'd been skirting around this thing for a while– the moony-eyed way Steve would look at you after he'd cum, the trapping you in the bedsheets with peppered kisses, the recreational sports games he'd keep inviting you to and you'd keep bailing on. You couldn't even remember if he played baseball or basketball. And you didn't... care.

"I just don't know why you work in that dump," Steve says, attempting to stick a little edge on that moment of softness. But his fingers had stopped moving inside you, which quite simply would not do.

"Because," you say, you with the hard edge, you with the steeliness he can't seem to get enough of, "some of us," your hand reaches down to clamp onto his, "don't have a choice what dumps we work in," and you begin to rut onto his hand, grinding into his palm. In order to get this show on the road, you add in one pretty little groan. "... your highness."

Your slickness makes an obscene squelch and Steve's jaw cocks open, his blown-out pupils meeting yours. "Fuckin'... shit. I'd pay to keep you here if you promised to do that all day."

And you know he'd love that, to make you a kept woman. But Hawkins rich isn't kept woman rich, and you've got bills to pay.

"That can be arranged," you whisper, biting at his finely sculpted jaw, "but if you wanna put your cock in me today, you better make it fast. Those beers ain’t gonna sling themselves."

“Yeah—yeah.” Steve fumbles, aiding you in pulling off your panties. You wrap them around his wrist for safekeeping, because this skirt is way too tiny to go commando in. Flash your ass at your co-worker and you’d never live it down.

Steve unbuckles and yanks his khakis down his thighs, a remarkably unsexy clothing choice on anyone else but him. You like him the most like this— pliable, willing to do whatever you say.

You hitch your knees up, bracing the heels of your tennis shoes against the edge of the table. Steve moves to hitch your skirt up, set his hands at ten and two on your hips, but his fingers travel upward to your shirt. It’s this threadbare Janis Joplin thing, another strategic choice. It’s tight enough that you needn’t bother with a bra and also tight enough that any passing wind chill makes your nipples stand to attention. It’s hot in here, so the way they strain against the material is all Steve’s doing.

“Take this off?” It’s a request. Sometimes you wish it’d be a demand. Anyway. You pull it over your head and the way he kneads at your tits makes up for it completely. His tongue, hot and strong and ready, laves over a nipple and you shiver.

“Steve, babe,” you whine, “tick tock.”

You reach down and grab his cock, sprung free from his boxers like a jailbreak, and guide it inside you.

His dick is long and lithe like the rest of him, with this perfectly bulbous tip that caresses that pretty spot, that one that makes you open-mouth moan into his shoulder, right on entrance.

Steve rocks his hips into yours, one of his big hands cupping at your jaw. “So nice, right?” he says, licking into your mouth.

“So fucking nice.” But now is not the time for one of Steve Harrington’s classic slow jams, a drawn-out fuckfest that would ordinarily leave you rosy and blissed out. Now, you need him—

“Harder,” you breathe, “fuck me harder. Faster, baby, please. I need— I have to get you off before I leave.”

Steve is a giver, but talk like that makes him feral. He'll rarely ever take control with you, rather wait for your permission to let him take control. Which is nice, you guess, consent and all that but it kind of snuffs the fire out for you sometimes. The process takes a little longer than it needs to.

But god, when he gets into a rhythm, there's no stopping him. He guides you (when he could have shoved you) back onto your elbows as his length drills in and out of you. He bears over you with that slyly muscular frame, face buried in your breasts, keeping up a relentless pace that almost, almost has your legs seizing, almost–

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“Fuck!” and it’s too sharp a curse to be one of pleasure. Steve is lost in you entirely, so much so that you have to tug at the hairs at the nape of his neck to get his focused attention. “Stevie, I gotta go.”

“No–fuck, come on, I’m so close.” You’ve fucked Steve Harrington enough times to know that he’s nowhere near close, that he’s got a position or two left in him before knockout. Your square stare communicates this perfectly; but he doesn’t stop, his pace just slows. Achingly slows, the way he loves to do when you’re right at the apex of an orgasm and he wants to hear the extended version of your desperate pleading. “You can be late.”

“No, I can’t,” you grumble, palming around for your discarded shirt. “I’m opening. Drunks are--mmm--lining up around the block to see me.” And my goddamn co-opener is always late. “Down, boy.”

“Fii-ii-iine,” he groans, voice cracking as his heartbeat slows in his chest. You can just about feel it thumping from here. He eases himself out of you, but doesn’t make any swift movements away from you. Pink lips, so pink that you’d once hornily remarked they were almost the same color as your pussy, pout as he stares up at you from beneath his bushy brows. God, he looks pathetic.

He’s so fucking hot.

You unwind your bright blue underwear from his wrist slowly. “You mad at me?”

“Little bit,” he murmurs, “Leaving someone with blue balls is like, a serious health hazard. You know that, don’t you?”

“Forgot you were pre-med, Steve.” Oh, that man is not pre-anything other than pre-cumming.

“If you get back here and I don’t answer the door because I’m dead from unfulfilled horniness, you’ve only got yourself to blame.”

“That is, assuming I’ll be back?” This little exercise in reminding Steve of the fluidity of your relationship earns you the most heartbreaking little scoff. You can’t help but hold his hand to your now-reclothed chest and peck a kiss to his lips. “Kidding. I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“I’ll be thinking about finishing you off for my whole shift, if that helps,” you hum against his mouth, which is already hungrily looking for more of you.

“How ‘bout I pick you up after?”

“Mmm, I don’t know.” Look, as much as you like Steve, and you do, you like him lots, you really need a night to recharge your social battery after the shift you’re about to have.

Especially when your co-worker comes sneaking in the door a whole 15 minutes late.

“Hey!” he whispers, making a whole pantomime of shiftily stepping inside, eyes darting around underneath his curly bangs, “Bev around?”

“You know as well as I do that she’s still on that cruise, Eddie.”

“And thank fuck for that, am I right?!” A ringed hand comes down hard on the bartop, making your glass of off-brand cola rattle. Something inside you clenches as Eddie Munson beams down at you. “God bless the Indiana Sweepstakes.”

You chuckle out a little mm-hmm! and return to the crossword book someone had abandoned here months ago. When it’s slow, you and Eddie try and fail to figure out the clues, which has lead to interspersed shittalking, which has led to flirting. Which has led to… other things. On the clock and off.

The natural course of which a river flows.

Speaking of wet things, you cross one leg over the other. You hadn’t, as it happened, stopped thinking about Steve’s absence between your thighs since you’d gunned your shitty car out of his building’s driveway. Though, the closer you got to The Hideout, the less that absence became about Steve and more became about… well, anyone.

What? You’re a red-blooded American woman with a healthy sex drive.

And you’ve seen how Eddie Munson handles the wheel of a car. Forceful. Relentless. Wild.

“Figured out where I know you from, by the way,” he says, snatching the bar towel from your shoulder and throwing it over his own.

“Hey! Those things are in short supply, asshole, get your own.”

“Finders keepers,” Eddie smirks, “And– Spanish class, sophomore year.”

Cringing falsely, you toss your hands up in surrender. “Ay papi. You got me.”

“You told me you were from Oregon, you little liar.”

“And you believed me, right?” you shrug. “Not surprising that you didn’t clock me right away. I was kind of unremarkable.”

Eddie squidges past you in the narrow space behind the bar, leaning around you for something– for what, you don’t really register, because he lingers there a little longer than he needs to. You can feel his breath on your neck. “Certainly not unremarkable now, huh?” His fingers ghost at your waist. “Nice shirt.”

See, the thing you’ve found with Eddie is he doesn’t waste any time.

He’s a lifer at The Hideout, worked here all through high school, right up to now. After your first couple of shifts, you locked yourselves in the bar for what he called a peer review. It only took a couple of shots of whiskey between you before he was on his knees, eating you out from your seat on the barstool. You ground yourself onto the slope of his nose, the tip making imperfect but workable contact with your clit as his tongue dove past your lips. Eddie had gripped onto you like a man possessed, determined to make you choke out his name through your orgasm.

But Eddie had never fucked you. He’d eaten you like a last meal, sure. He’d fingered you against the rough brick exterior of the bar, yep. You’d even given him road head the couple of times he’d given you a ride home after work, dawn breaking over Hawkins and Eddie struggling to drive in a straight line toward your apartment block. But he’d never fucked you.

“Thanks,” you respond, tilting your head upwards to look at him. “Guy I was fucking before I came in sure seemed to think so.”

Eddie’s mouth curls up into this devilish little grin. “You tryin’ to make me jealous, telling me you’re gettin’ dicked down before work?”

“To his credit, dicked down is,” you sigh, “a little bit of an understatement.”

“Couldn’t finish the job?”

“Not his fault. My alarm went off.”

“And you’re so punctual.”

“Always.”

Eddie’s hand tightens around its place on your waist, dimpling into the soft flesh. “So you’re left all… wanting, is the conclusion I’m coming to.”

“Yeah…” and your teeth sink into your bottom lip. From behind you, he angles his hips against your ass, a suggestion of a push upward. The material of your skirt catches, gathers and shifts against him so you can just about feel the swell of him on your almost bare ass.

“Oh, you little slut,” he says, and fuck, if you don’t love the way he says it. The hardness on the letter ‘t’. “Coming in here all dick-hungry. You’re asking me for a favor, then?”

“Least you could do,” you say lowly, “for leaving me hanging in here all the time.”

“Right,” Eddie nods, his hand travelling toward the hem of your skirt, “The opening rush is crazy around here.”

Ain’t a sinner in the bar but the two of you.

Eddie’s fingers crawl onto your thigh, reaching higher and higher, and you nearly let out a pitiful little moan in anticipation. All you want, all you want is to plant your hands on the bar and have him drive his cock into you, ringed fingers bruising the soft flesh of your hips. Chained jeans rattling.

So you move his hand to the waistband of your panties, not that it’s far off. A suggestion of pull these fucking things down.

Eddie’s eyes flare wide. Anybody could come in. Are you sure about this?

But you’re so fucking wet that a job like this isn’t going to take long. He might not cum, but you sure will. You sure fucking will, if he keeps looking at you like that. Like he wants to wrap a ringed hand around your throat and fuck you so good, you’ll forget even the regulars’ orders.

“Eddie,” you say, purposely wiggling against him as your panties fall to the floor, “C’mon. You’re telling me you’ll let me jerk you off in the keg room but you haven’t thought about how wet it makes me? How much I want you to just–!”

“Shut up,” he says, “Fuckin’ shut up. Bend over.”

Your pulse quickens, mouth popping open.

“I said,” Eddie starts, hands going to his silver belt, “bend over, slut.”

And boy, do you ever comply– Jesus. You’ve never seen him like this before, half-mad and fully hard. Usually, Eddie’s the kind of guy who’ll joke his way through a hookup. There’ll be flashes here and there, sure. He’s got no problem telling you where to put it and when. But this…

You bend at the waist, leaning against the bar for support and scoot your legs apart. A great idea on your part, you toss a look over your shoulder– Eddie’s pumping the length of himself, his free hand roaming over the curve of your ass. He notices you looking and gives it a solid smack!, fat jiggling on the recoil. The sight of that makes his eyes keen back in his head a little, a smile dancing at his lips.

“You better be ready to dance,” he says, fingers teasing at your slit before he enters you in one slow, slow, stretching movement. “We got customers coming in, any minute now.”

Eddie breathes out a little oh god! in response to feeling just how tight you are around him. He feels exactly as you expected him to– you knew he was big from taking him in your mouth but the girth of him makes you wince a little. Once he’s moving against your honeyed walls, you’re in fucking heaven. He’s thick and solid and this close to throbbing; he’d been waiting for this as long as you had.

“Don’t worry,” he strains reassuringly, palm coming in harsh contact with your ass cheek again, “You’re cummin’ first, sweetheart.”

The brazen moan, the sound all jittery from Eddie’s rutting into your pussy, seemed to echo in the empty bar.

God, the acoustics really were great in here.

The sound of his balls slapping against your gorgeous, plush ass joins the symphony and the sting of his force hitting your soft spot makes your eyes water. You want to look at him again– you have to. Your eyes go over your shoulder and Eddie’s there, fucking beautiful under the bar light’s glow and transfixed on the way your body’s moving against him. He doesn’t need any encouraging. His hand reaches for your throat, holding your chin in place so you can watch him fuck you, so he can watch your pretty face contort as you crest your orgasm.

Your cunt tightens around him and the sounds he starts making are nothing short of obscene– guttural, growling, snarling. “Fucking getting what you want now, aren’t you, baby girl? All you needed–uhnh–was my fucking–fat cock to cum all over–”

And it’s hitting you in waves you’d gladly drown in, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. You reach down to flick at your swollen clit, half-regretting you’re not drawing out the contractions of your pussy a little bit longer. “Good fucking girl, give me everything you got–”

“Cum inside me, Eddie, fucking please–” you cry, right over the crest of your orgasm.

“Huh?” He barely registers what you’ve said, talking you through the arresting drown of your orgasm. But then he gets it, and his eyes do that siren flare thing that they do. “Really? Yeah?”

“Yeah, fucking– yeah!” you yell, a little louder than you mean to, “Fill me, please, I want you drippin’ out of me all night–”

That’s enough for him to jerk and shudder, his noises becoming tauter, his thrusts becoming shorter, bottoming out inside you in a warm gush.

Fuck. Fuck.

“Fuck,” you blink, moving Eddie’s hand from your throat as he eases himself out of you.

“Yeah,” he breathes, pulling the bar towel from his shoulder to wipe himself off. “Fu-uuck.”

You turn back to face him and snatch the towel, patting between your own legs.

“Gross,” he chides.

“Finders keepers, asshole,” you giggle, breathless. And satisfied. That giggle bubbling out of you is contagious, because now Eddie’s giggling too. Peals and peals of silly laughter, fizzing out of you both like phosphate. That was fun. Eddie’s fun.

“Might wanna put those back on,” he points to the ground once he’s caught his breath. Oh right. Your panties.

“Yeah, I–”

But then the bar door swings open, your name called out through the entrance. Wait, is that–

“--fuckin’ Steve Harrington?” Eddie mutters, leaning over the bar to get a better look.

“Babe,” Steve says, catching sight of you with a little slip of red leather in his hand. “You forgot your…”

He pauses, Maybe he catches that you and Eddie are in a state of post-coital undoneness. I mean, the pink cheeks, the ruffled hair, Eddie’s half-secured belt may be a tip off, but…

“...wallet.”

But where a guilty feeling ought to have settled in, there’s no boats in your damn harbor. Steve Harrington, while lovely, was not your fuckin’ boyfriend. You pluck the wallet out of his hand as his eyes narrow, looking toward Eddie. Eddie, for his part, is putting the puzzle pieces together.

So it was Steve’s place you were running off to after shifts, Steve’s new car you were jumping out of when you arrived sometimes.

And he looks a little… jealous.

“Thanks, Stevie,” you say, blowing him a little kiss with the wallet. “You wanna drink while you’re here?”

“Nah, I– I gotta… I’m jettin’. So. Later? Later.” Steve Harrington, still struggling to be the epitome of cool. And failing miserably.

You give him a little wave and watch him, fondly, as he leaves. God bless Banana Republic and everything those should-be-fuck-ugly khakis have done for you. In your peripheral vision, Eddie appears next to you. Leaning on the bar. Glaring.

“What’s the matter, Munson?” you simper. “Cat got your dick?”

#powder room talk #Anonymous

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throneofsapphics · 3 months ago

Text

the moth and the flame part four: the breakdown

poly!Nessian x f!Reader

summary: after meeting Nesta in a bookshop, you find the darkest parts of yourselves bonding with each other. Naturally, Cassian finds himself entangled with the two of you.

warnings: drinking

a/n: he's hereeeeeeee

series masterlist

Yes, she was mated to Cassian - but she hadn’t forgotten about you. You were impossible to forget about. Each day she would find little reminders of you. In the clouds, the different colored leaves, the beauty in between all of the busy spaces. You were in all of the small things in her life but she found those little things added up quickly.

Fuck, Cassian knew all about you too. He might even be more eager to see you than she was to see you again. Not that Nesta didn’t, but even she could admit she was a bit scared of your reaction. Neither of you were the most rational people together but she couldn’t let you go, not without seeing you again, maybe not after that.

“When’s the big day?” Cassian grinned, bringing his sword up to cross in front of him, blocking her blow.

“Never,” she grunted, reentering herself.

“Enough, Ness.” Cassian’s voice had that hint of command that made every Fae instinct in her stand up and pay attention.

“What?” She half-snarled.

“You need to go see her. It’s killing you.”

Nesta gave him her back, “If you’re not going to be a good sparring partner, I'll find another.” He scoffed, but didn’t call her bluff. Did you know how to spar? Would you want her to teach you? Nesta tried to push you out of her mind but you’d carved yourself a small corner in there, no matter how hard she’d tried recently she couldn’t quite and didn’t quite want to evict you.

Nesta didn’t like going out to taverns much anymore. Yes, she would have the occasional glass of wine but that was about it. Somehow, she allowed herself to be dragged out to Rita’s with the inner circle.

She sat in the corner of the bar, watching Cassian and Feyre dance like idiots, nursing her singular - that’s all she would have tonight, she was determined - a glass of wine, when she caught a hint ... No, Rita’s wasn’t your stomping ground. In fact, you told her you’d sworn the bar off. Had you lied and really been coming here the whole time? Or did not want Nesta to show?

She shook her head. Half a glass of wine and she was already thinking like you were somehow together. Well ... you didn’t exactly get a chance to tell Nesta you weren’t, and until then perhaps she’d just assume otherwise to make herself feel a little better.

The ‘feeling better’ disappeared the same instant she caught a glimpse of familiar movement. She knew who moved her hips justlike that, and just what a movement like that could do to another body.

Skin-tight red dress, jewel tones bringing out your naturally radiant skin, lipstick a perfectly matching shade. You’d pointed that dress out to her before, called it your revenge dress, one you’d wear out to flaunt in front of someone who wronged you.

If anything ... the dress was a calling sign to Nesta.

Apparently it worked on others too, because the second you stepped onto the dance floor a male was there.

And his hand was ... Nesta felt her body move instantly as the male’s hand drifted down, cupping your perfect ass. Hers.

You belonged to her.

Near animal instinct took over as she stalked across the dance floor. Her arm reared back as she approached, your eyes widening as you spotted her, the male still in ignorance. Not for long.

A hand closed over her own closed fist, spinning her back in a circle, not unlike a ballroom dance. She knew that hand and those callouses.

Cassian.

“What are you thinking?” He snarled, “I know it’s her, but you can't go punch random males.”

She tried to tug her hand out of his put his grip on her was iron tight. “You’d do much worse.” Nesta shifted to the side, a wing flared out to block her view.

“Quit,” she snapped. “Let me go.”

To her chagrin, he didn’t release her. It was probably a smart choice, but she hated it. That male needed to be put in his place ...

“That’s not your job to do,” a sweet voice came from behind her. Nesta hadn’t realized she’d said that last phrase out loud. “But I recommend you release her,” you followed up.

She spotted a glass out of the corner of her eye, ruby red liquid tilted just to the edge, poised over Cassian’s head. You had no idea who the male was to her, possibly didn’t recognize him from this angle. No, you were too smart not to recognize him.

You didn’t care. You’d dump your drink on the general of the Night Court for her. She was flattered at the slight bullheadedness and stupidity.

“It was for your sake, sweetheart,” his mouth opened, white teeth glinting in the dim light - a signature smile playing on his lips. One that probably had several females dropping to their knees in the past. Not you.

Still, Nesta’s nostrils flared at his tone with the last word. Borderline derogatory. If she wasn’t careful this could turn into a three-way brawl.

“Sweetheart,” Nesta mocked, sickeningly sweet. Cassian winced. “How about you give us some space?” Your drink looked even more precarious now, Cassian barely side stepped a single drop that would’ve landed on his white shirt.

Cassian read the room and backed away, both hands held up and mirth in his eyes. You were looking at him with an expression Nesta couldn’t read, and she didn’t like that.

“Is that your mate?” You said quietly after he disappeared.

Nesta wanted to lie to you. She wanted it more than anything else. Yes, he might be her mate but what the two of you had together went beyond and above any kind of mating bond.

“Yes,” the word was choked.

You slipped a hand into your pocket, a dress with pockets - of course you had one. Nesta knew what was inside and imagined the little red pill swirling back and forth between your fingers, your mind begging you to toss it down your throat. Those would kill you one day, she knew it.

“I think we need to talk,” you sighed, glancing behind you, jerking your chin towards someone. From her peripherals, Nesta saw a few females melt away into a crowd. Waiting for a signal from you. When did you make friends? The last she knew, the two of you were all each other had. But ... she supposed she’d made friends as well. You were entitled to move on with your own life. She could hardly expect for you to wait around in limbo while she disappeared for several months, logically Nesta knew that but by the gods she wanted you to. Logic had no place between the two of you.

taglist: @breadsticks2004 @shamelessdonutkryptonite @rowaelinsdaughter @fightmedraco @acourtofbatboydreams @readinggeeklmao @krowiathemythologynerd @kooterz @anxious-study

#nessian x y/n #nessian x reader #poly!nessian #poly!nessian x y/n #poly!nessian x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x reader #nesta archeron x reader #nesta archeron x y/n #acotar x reader

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swiftsaltsweet · 2 months ago

Text

Two Knives Interlude 2: Rangi- Damn It

Characters: Rangi and Kyoshi (RoK characters tbh)

Pairing: Rangshi

Rating: M

Summary:

Things have been stressful for Kyoshi. First, she sang a poem and now the whole kitchen staff thinks it’s about Rangi, and is sure that there will be gossip. Then, Yun asks her to join him for the Fifth Nation treaty signing. Now Rangi’s acting strange. It’s becoming a bit much for Kyoshi’s small corner of the world.

(Canon Divergent AU- Kelsang wasn’t the one who heard the poem?….aka What if it took longer for them to realize Kyoshi was the Avatar?)

Other Sites: AO3

A/N: Listen, can you even call it one of my fics if Rangi’s not going through it just a bit? u_u

I title this “the breaking down of a pine tree” uwu

____

Kyoshi’s such an idiot! Was Rangi's final verdict. But Rangi was in love with said idiot, which meant Rangi was a bigger idiot.

And she was an idiot without much of a plan. While her duty was to protect the Avatar first and foremost, she was willing to spread herself thin to make sure Kyoshi fell under that same protection.

Her first order of business was getting Kyoshi some new gloves that went with the battle outfit that Jianzhu ordered for her. That same outfit happened to be something she and Yun were able to stop arguing long enough to pick out for Kyoshi. At least they could agree on that one thing.

Rangi still hadn’t given up convincing Yun to keep Kyoshi in Yokoya, she may not have been able to pressure Kyoshi into staying. But she could at least annoy Yun. It was her little revenge. A treat so to speak, just for her.

“Rangi!” she heard Yun yell her name from across the courtyard.

Well he looks annoyed. She thought, a little gleefully, and tried to hide her smile of satisfaction that tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“Yes, Avatar?” she bowed to him.

“Walk with me,” he said in a low voice. Which meant, he had a private matter he wanted to discuss with her. Great. She’d fill the time airing her selfish request at him then.

They walked to a more secluded part of the mansion, only stopping when Yun found a sufficient spot.

“I know why you’re acting like this,” he said, his arms crossed. A little smugness gleaming in his eyes.

Rangi snorted. Well no duh. Yun knew how she felt about Kyoshi. The two of them had been competing for her attention and love since the day they all first met. He may have been her charge, but he was also her rival. She didn’t get why Yun was stating the obvious.

“Was I not apparent enough before? Or did you happen to forget?” she raised her eyebrow at him. Unimpressed at his sudden horrible memory.

Yun laughed. “Oh, no, I’m hinting at a more recent development.”

That sent a wave of dread through Rangi.

“I…don’t know what you mean,” she forced out.

Yun smiled with his eyes closed, and began tapping his chin. Then he began to circle Rangi.

“I’ve got two knives that are cast in bronze / they pierce all the way to the soul” Yun began Kyoshi’s poem. He cracked open an eye to look at Rangi’s expression as he sang.

Rangi swallowed, throat suddenly dry. She kept her face expressionless. Not a lot of good it did her, with her quickly paling complexion and clammy sweat starting to form.

“They draw you in with the promise of sin / like the moth to the flame to the coal,” Yun continued his singing with gusto.

“What are you doing? When did you become a poet?” Rangi grumbled, trying to feign ignorance.

Yun kept circling, his smile smug. “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about Rangi. I mean, it’s the hottest gossip with the staff at the moment.” He tilted his head and tapped his foot on the ground.

Right, Rangi had been so caught up with the Fifth Nation, she’d forgotten about the other big possible disaster happening right in her home territory. Had her mother caught wind of the gossip? She wasn’t much for that, but neither was Yun. At least, she’d never see him chit chatting with the staff casually enough to gossip.

Rangi could feel sweat threatening to drip from her clenched fists as she saw his foot was still tapping the ground. Did he “hear” through his earthbending? Vocal vibrations? Was that possible? Or maybe he earthbent secret tunnels around the estate so he could spy on conversations? Did he hear Rangi’s plea to Kyoshi the other day?

Rangi’s jaw clenched, but kept silent.

“I, like most people, possibly including you, think that Kyoshi was singing about you, Rangi.”

Rangi gulped. “Where are you going with this?”

Yun stopped circling right in front of Rangi. He clapped his hands together. “It means you have a chance!” Then he clapped both of Rangi’s shoulders on each side with both his hands. “This is something to celebrate!”

Rangi eyed him warily. He was giving her that same fake smile he’d give to diplomats. His grip on her shoulders tensed just slightly.

“Nothing’s set in stone unless one of us confesses and the other accepts.” Rangi wasn’t going to count her pig chickens before they hatched, even if she was confident about the song herself.

Yun rolled his eyes, “You are such a downer!”

Rangi gave him an even stare. “Please tell me this isn’t why you’ve been insistent on Kyoshi coming with us.”

Yun’s playful mask slowly melted into an emotionless one that mirrored Rangi’s. He released her shoulders. “No. I found out after I asked.”

So that was just his usual power move, not one in retaliation. It comforted Rangi, but only slightly. She was used to these kinds of things, these little micro transgressions from him. The way he’d bring up fire lilies in her presence, knowing full well that she knew what that interaction would mean; especially since she was pretty sure he attempted to orchestrate her walking in on that little incident.

But he’d gone too far this time in her eyes, for all she knew, he chose not to see reason to spite her because of the poem. She was fine with whatever mud he wanted to sling at her, she was no innocent party herself. She had done the same to him on occasion. But if Kyoshi got hit in the crossfire, well….

“Fine, perhaps you’re right,” Rangi whispered, finally giving him the answer he wanted to hear. “So are you going to keep her here? What do I need to say to make that happen?”

“Does that mean you’re going to beg me too?”

So he did hear. “Yes. If that's what it takes.”

Yun’s eyes widened then softened. “That’s…surprising. And not something I want to hear, Rangi.” He looked away, almost sorrowfully. “I’ll save you the humiliation, it won’t work. I really do need Kyoshi there. You’re not the only one who draws from her strength.”

Rangi looked away from him. She hated that there were times that she saw the worst in Yun. Thought she figured him out so well. But she understood where he was coming from. There was no malice, just stupidity. The same stupidity she was constantly at the mercy of herself.

Rangi sighed. Damn him…..

“Which is why, as your Avatar, I command you to put Kyoshi’s safety above my own!” Yun declared, with a wink.

He clapped Rangi on one shoulder one more time and gave it a squeeze. This time she didn’t feel an underlying threat, but she still didn’t feel any actual encouragement from him either. Perhaps, it was the comradery of them just wanting to keep the girl they liked safe.

Rangi just nodded at him. Still unsure if he was throwing her a bone for once, or if he did this out of Kyoshi’s benefit alone. Regardless, she was grateful.

_______

Rangi paced around the tent. Her sleeping quarters were arranged for their night on the iceberg.

Damn it! She bellowed in her head. She couldn’t scream aloud, even if she wanted to, so she focused her energy inward.

Damn Tagaka! Damn Yun! Damn-! She thought of her mother, her stern face filled with hurt eyes. She thought of her face, but couldn’t bring herself to curse her name in her mind. No matter how much her reputation had harmed them both and caused them strife. Damn this whole day!

Rangi chose to just cycle through her other two offenders and the events of the day.

Damn Yun for taking Kyoshi with them. Damn Yun for setting up sleeping arrangements so that she and Kyoshi would share a tent, alone! Damn Yun for making it so there was only one bed!

If she was any more of a fool, she’d think he was throwing her a bone. But she knew him better than that, he was trying to torture her. As if this whole excursion wasn’t tortuous enough itself!

Then there was that damn Tagaka! Damn her for being a daofei! For all the crimes she has committed, same crimes that she may get away with, all because of that damn treaty! Damn her for scaring Kyoshi. Damn her for airing her mother’s dirty laundry, and doing it right in front of Kyoshi! Damn her for causing her mother and her pain, one they thought they finally escaped by leaving the Fire Nation!

Rangi stopped pacing and crouched down, putting her head in her hands and folding in on herself.

What did Kyoshi think of her now? Of her mother? Did she also see her as a killer? An assassin? Would she hate her or Rangi?

She was already nervous about being in the tent with Kyoshi when she first heard about it! But having her mother’s dirty laundry aired out like that? Now Rangi had more than one thing to worry about.

Rangi got up, and began pacing again. Trying to figure out the best solution, and coming up with no answers.

It wasn’t until she exhausted every possible avenue, she stopped dead in her tracks and realized she had a third thing to worry about. Kyoshi still wasn’t back yet.

Dread built up in her. Like an idiot, she left Kyoshi’s side after the incident with Tagaka. But she assumed Kyoshi had gone to confront, or comfort, Master Kelsang. Surely she was still with him…... right?

She swore to herself. Her one job, and she failed to do it. For all the grief she gave Yun, he deserved to give it back to her a thousand fold!

Rangi ran to the side of the room where her armor lay, ready to put it on, when she heard rustling outside. She generated a small flame in her hand and went to investigate.

When she opened the flap of the tent, she looked down to see Kyoshi, laying in the snow. Kyoshi looked up at her, relief dancing across her face as she gazed at Rangi. Then she saw a bottle that was clasped in Kyoshi’s hand.

Rangi sniffed the air, smelling the familiar sting of alcohol. “Kyoshi, have you been drinking?”

“Yes?” Kyoshi didn’t sound sure of the statement. But she didn’t show signs of drunkenness. It was a stupid thing to lie about, but Rangi would let it slide.

Rangi sighed inwardly. Happy the girl was still in one piece despite Rangi’s own fault in the matter. And was especially happy that Kyoshi wasn’t sloshed either. She didn’t need another problem on her hands for the night.

Rangi quickly grabbed Kyoshi by the arms, and with some difficulty, dragged the larger girl into their tent. I need to do more pushups. Rangi thought. If she could barely drag the other girl, there was no way she’d be able to lift her. Rangi shook her head at the thought, her brain conjuring up only explicit scenarios that would require such a thing.

Stupid brain, I need less problems on my plate not more!

She helped Kyoshi up, and began taking off her armor, still trying not to let her mind wander to places it shouldn’t. “You can't sleep in that get up. Especially not the armor.”

“Shouldn't you be sleeping with Yun?” Kyoshi asked.

Rangi snapped her head up to look at Kyoshi, completely appalled by her insinuation. Is she stupid?! Does she really think that Yun and I are a thing?! W-what about the fire lilies, did she do that thinking that Yun and I were together?

Or was this a conclusion she came to after the fire lilies moment? Is that why Kyoshi and Yun didn’t get together, even in secret? A misunderstanding on Kyoshi’s part? Rangi didn’t know if she should feel sickened, relieved, or horrified. So she was all three, at once.

“You know what I mean,” Kyoshi said, a little embarrassed.

Oh, she meant as a bodyguard. Right, of course she did.

Rangi felt herself instantly cool down from the mini panic attack. “The Avatar and Master Jianzhu are reviewing strategy. Master Amak only ever sleeps in ten-minute intervals throughout the day, so he and the most experienced guardsmen will keep watch. The order is that everyone else should be well-rested for tomorrow.”

After Kyoshi was sufficiently stripped down, and ready for bed, the two settled into the furs. They both laid as far apart as they could.

Rangi didn’t face Kyoshi, she was trying to fall asleep. Not like she could, her crush of two years just an arm's length from her. She could feel every slight movement coming from Kyoshi’s side. Was she a restless sleeper? What if she moved and got too close to Rangi while she slept? What if Rangi moved in the night and did something?

Her heart pounded and ached at the same time, it was torture. She’d curse Yun again, but her mind was only filled with Kyoshi’s presence next to her. There was no room in her mind for anyone else.

She heard Kyoshi sigh. Apparently she also hadn’t fallen asleep.

Rangi’s mind whirled, strengthened by the proximity of Kyoshi. By the setting they were in. The lack of armor and multiple layers of clothing. She had a thousand questions for the girl, no, more than a thousand. So many they could be up all night and still not get through them all.

She tried to ignore them but it was too much. One slipped out of her lips before she could catch it.

“Why didn't you listen?” Rangi whispered, barely audible, her throat felt sore. Why did you choose Yun over me? Was the real question behind those words. The question burned her since she begged Kyoshi in the garden.

“What?” she heard Kyoshi ask, and then shuffling noises. The sound of Kyoshi getting closer.

Rangi’s heart started to race again. She somehow found the strength to ask the question again, just a bit louder. “Why didn't you listen to me?”

More shuffling, Kyoshi getting farther away now. Terror thrummed in Rangi as she waited for Kyoshi’s answer.

“I don't know what you mean,” she heard Kyoshi say simply.

A cord in Rangi broke, and she snatched her pillow and turned over, slamming the item onto Kyoshi’s face with a soft plop.

Damn her! Damn Kyoshi! Damn her for her neutral jing! Or was it avoidance this time? Negative jing? Regardless, damn her!

She was undoing Rangi thread by thread, while she just laid there and pretended nothing wrong was happening.

Rangi cursed herself louder. For being unable to voice her real wants and desires. To voice what was wrong.

She removed the pillow, and almost crumbled. She was so close to Kyoshi’s face, able to count each one of the girl's precious freckles. She could feel herself melting as she looked at her beautiful girl.

Rangi raised her pillow to strike again, trying to conceal her failing willpower. “You know what I mean! Don't act like you only have rocks in that head of yours!”

Rangi watched Kyoshi’s shocked face slowly melt into a fit of giggles and laughter. The sound was music to Rangi’s ears, a harmony that came from heaven itself. The sight, Kyoshi’s freckled smile, made Rangi want to drop her pillow and kiss the girl silly.

Instead, she remembered herself, and hit Kyoshi with the pillow again instead.

“I-it's not funny!” Rangi cried, she kept hitting Kyoshi with the pillow and it only caused the girl to laugh harder. The heavenly torture assaulting Rangi at full force.

“S-stop it!” Kyoshi cried back, tears were in her eyes from laughing so hard. She made several grabs for the pillow in Rangi’s hand, missing a few times and accidentally caressing Rangi’s hand without realizing.

Rangi’s heart felt like it was going to burst. “K-Kyoshi! Stop it!” Kyoshi was getting closer with each grab, and it took all of Rangi’s willpower to try to push Kyoshi back with her free hand. If they got any closer, she didn’t know what she’d do.

Rangi gave in, and let Kyoshi take the pillow, but it was too late. Kyoshi was well within her boundary, Kyoshi just didn’t realize it yet.

Kyoshi’s eyes were still closed, her beautiful, unguarded face was still laughing without a care. It was the most breathtaking thing Rangi had ever seen.

“But you're the one who…started…it.” Kyoshi’s eyes finally opened, and her voice trailed off when she saw the situation they were in.

They were nose to nose, their breath tickling each other. Tickling Rangi’s lips, teasing her of what could be. Kyoshi’s shocked eyes staring into Rangi’s wanton ones. Kyoshi’s scent, morning dew on grass, made Rangi melt like she was the very same dew.

“Kyoshi….” Rangi murmured, as she looked at Kyoshi and the red hue spreading across the other girl’s face, deepening the color of her freckles. Did she feel the same way?

Rangi lowered her eyes to Kyoshi’s lips. Move. She thought as gazed at Kyoshi’s lips. Damn it! Move now, Kyoshi. Move or I…. I might…….. Rangi’s grasp on everything loosened. On the pillow, on Kyoshi. On her self-control. She went to lean forward.

But, as if reading Rangi’s mind, Kyoshi suddenly flipped over. Her back facing Rangi.

“W-woops! S-sorry about that!” Kyoshi stuttered out. “Sorry for messing around, we should get to sleep. Big day tomorrow!”

Kyoshi’s voice shook, her body shook too. Was it because Rangi had made her uncomfortable? Scared? Or maybe….. Maybe it was with desire? The same Rangi felt pulsing through her.

Rangi laid there for a good while, waiting for the atmosphere to finally fade from her body. But it never did. She felt bolstered by it in fact. She started leaning into a courage she shouldn’t have. She decided to take a plunge.

Instead of turning over and falling asleep away from Kyoshi, she instead placed and leaned her open palms and forehead onto Kyoshi’s back. “You have my pillow, stupid.” She chuckled just slightly to herself.

She felt Kyoshi fling her arm around, and heard her pillow flop to the floor on the other side of the tent. But it wasn’t the pillow Rangi had wanted.

Damn it. She let herself settle in closer to Kyoshi, letting her body meld into Kyoshi’s back. She enjoyed the feeling of Kyoshi’s racing heart pounding against her forehead, taking in Kyoshi’s scent. She fell into a lullful sleep, and dreamt of laying in a meadow under the warm sun with Kyoshi.

____________

Rangi couldn’t breathe. The ice that encased her blocked the air from reaching her lungs.

Tagaka had ambushed them during the treaty signing, and now Rangi, along with many others, were trapped in the iceberg.

She generated a fire fist, and forced the ice to melt around her. She found a way into a pocket of air with the waterbender who had pulled her in. She swung at the waterbender, breaking their nose, rendering them unconscious. Possibly leaving them for dead as well.

Water from the melted ice started to form around her. She tried not to panic, but it was becoming impossible to breathe again. She tried to calm down, focusing her heat inward instead of outward. If her body was wet she wouldn’t be able to generate external fire well. Instead, she heated herself and let the heat billow out from her. Sure enough, the internal heat started to melt the ice around her faster. Even evaporating slightly so she could get a few precious breaths in.

She looked around and saw their guardsmen fighting off the other waterbenders. She tried making her way to them, hoping Kyoshi wasn’t in there, but if she was, that she could make it to her in time!

She saw a familiar red figure in the corner of her eye thinking the same thing. Her mother. They were both heating and bending their way to the guardsmen.

They were only able to save either a third or half until it all became too much. Too much cold, too much water, not a lot of air pockets. They simply ran out of time. Rangi and Hei-Ran blasted their way out of the side of the iceberg, the rescued guardsmen falling behind them.

As they landed on an icy platform below, they saw something come down from above. It was Jianzhu with Pengpeng. “Get on!”

Rangi and Hei-Ran did as he commanded without hesitation. They jumped aboard Pengpeng, trying to superheat their limbs to evaporate the water off of them faster, so they could make it possible to bend their fire without failure.

They ascended into the air, Hei-Ran and Rangi each taking a side on Pengpeng and letting off fire blasts at any pirate they saw.

The trio flew closer to where they assumed Tagaka and Yun had gone, and what they saw caused Rangi’s heart to almost fail.

Kyoshi was the lone person fighting Tagaka. She was winning, but reinforcements were closing in on her. There was a pulse of light from an icey prison, and Yun burst forth. He started taking out the reinforcements, but Rangi knew there would be too many.

She took the risk and jumped off of Pengpeng!

“Rangi!” She heard her mother cry, but it was too late, Rangi was already barreling towards the ground.

She used blasts of fire to slow her descent in the air, and to aim for what looked like a soft bed of snow. She landed with a fwump! And as she scrambled and heated her way out, she felt the earth shake. She looked over and saw Yun in a deep stance, and the earth being pulled up from the sea bed. Taking out several ships in the process.

Rangi watched in horror as a pirate got by Yun and struck Kyoshi!

She started sprinting over there as fast as she could, cursing the snow for slowing her down. She watched as Kyoshi tried to get back up, only to fall back down. She had no more strength. The pirate readied his ice spear above his head, ready to strike.

“Kyoshi!” Rangi screamed.

Fear gripped Rangi tighter than it ever had before, she slammed her foot down into a deep stance, and thrusted her fist out as fast, hot, and hard as possible. A white fiery terror shot forth from it in the form of a fireball, and blasted the pirate from across the iceberg. Kyoshi was safe from him.

She watched as Jianzhu fell from the sky, to clean up the rest of the ships and how Yun ran off to join him. She watched as the last of Kyoshi’s strength left her body and sank to the floor. Rangi reached Kyoshi right before Kyoshi’s head hit the ground, and cradled the larger girl in her arms. She turned up her body heat and did what she could to warm Kyoshi up.

“Kyoshi! Kyoshi! Please, don’t go to sleep! Kyoshi!”

Rangi gently shook Kyoshi, and watched as the blood from her face fell onto Kyoshi’s forehead and cheeks. Kyoshi looked up at her one last time with a bleary eyed smile. Then her eyes closed for sleep.

___________________

Rangi fell back on what she knew best. Pacing.

Positive jing. Always moving forward. Just. Nonstop. Pacing.

She paced back and forth in the infirmary wing where Kyoshi was located. She did so for three days straight. The staff was going to need to replace the floorboards. There was a hole where the floorboards used to be. Rangi had paced a rut so thoroughly into the floor that she made it seem like those floorboards never existed in the first place.

Rangi ran a hand through her hair. Paying for damages on the house was the least of her worries. She’d failed to guard the Avatar. She’d chosen Kyoshi over the Avatar. It didn’t matter if the Avatar commanded her to do so, in her heart she’d chosen what she wanted to do without anyone’s prompting. And that’s what made the looks she was given by the Masters that much harder to take.

They knew what she did, regardless of Yun’s defense. To his credit, it was a good defense. “What was she going to do? She couldn’t follow me on those ships! It’s best that she stayed with Kyoshi!”

A good defense didn’t mean it was the truth, she didn’t even want to follow him in the first place.

But the hardest thing of all was in the room with Rangi at that very moment.

Rangi looked over from her rut and saw the sleeping face of the girl she loved. Kyoshi was unconscious, and she hadn’t woken up once in three days. Rangi didn’t know what to do, she was completely….and utterly…helpless.

She began pacing again, biting her nail. Searching for solutions that wouldn’t come nor could happen, when she heard a noise. Her head snapped over to Kyoshi’s bed. Rangi jumped out of her foot deep rut and sprinted over to Kyoshi.

Rangi hovered with baited breath.

But Kyoshi didn’t awaken, and Rangi collapsed onto the chair next to Kyoshi’s bed side. Head in hands, and began to sob.

If Kyoshi didn’t wake up, didn’t return to her. She didn’t know what she’d do. She didn’t know how she could keep on going.

Rangi sat there, pleading to any and every spirit that could hear her. Pleading for a miracle.

Please, just bring her back to me…..

She sat there, still as a statue. Afraid that even a single molecule of her being would ruin the prayer. Then she heard it, rustling.

Rangi’s head shot up and saw Kyoshi’s eye’s fluttering open.

“Kyoshi!” she gasped, grabbing the water gourd from the bedside table. “You're awake! Are you feeling alright?”

Kyoshi tried to speak but coughed, and Rangi instantly put the water to Kyoshi’s lips.

“What happened? Where's Yun?” Kyoshi finally asked.

Of course she’d ask about him first. Rangi tried not to feel so deflated. Tried to reason with herself. Of course she was asking! He’s nowhere in sight. And he’s the Avatar. It’s not because she loves him more.

“He's fine,” Rangi replied in a sullen tone. “Master Jianzhu and my mother are with him. He’s plenty guarded. Yun ordered me to be here to make sure you were alright.”

He only ordered me because I begged him. It wasn’t literal begging with words and kowtowing, but with pleading eyes and an understanding gaze.

“Sorry, you should be with him instead of me,” Kyoshi whispered.

Rangi’s eyes widened. Oh, Kyoshi was still thinking of other people first again, instead of herself. That's why. It wasn’t because she cared more about Yun…..

Rangi’s fists and jaw clenched in unison. This idiot! Why, why couldn’t she ever spare a thought for herself?! Why did she have to be so good and just? Why couldn’t she be a little bit selfish? Just….think of herself for once?!

“Yeah you better be sorry,” Rangi stood up from her chair. “Think of yourself for a change!”

Kyoshi could only stare at her in surprise. Did she not understand the severity of the situation she was in?!

“You've been asleep for three days, Kyoshi! Three days! Do you know how worried I was?” Rangi’s chest heaved as her voice wavered.

“I-I’m sorry!” Kyoshi strangled out, with the pure sincerity only Kyoshi knew how to exude.

“I didn’t think you were ever going to wake up!” her voice cracked, and tears were welling in her eyes as she collapsed back in her chair, the thought of Kyoshi ceasing to exist making her weak again. “How could you be so reckless?”

The possibilities and what-ifs from before came barreling down onto Rangi again. Her strength left her with each tear that escaped her.

She felt something touch her cheek. It was Kyoshi’s hand. Kyoshi was….touching her face, wiping the tears away. Comforting her.

“Oh….” she could only gasp. Kyoshi couldn’t have known what that meant in her country. You didn’t touch the head region unless you were family or married. Not engaged, married. There were no exceptions.

Kyoshi couldn’t have known the transgression she was doing. The violation. The dishonor. She wouldn’t have done it if she’d known.

But she didn’t. Kyoshi didn’t know. She only, and wholly wanted to comfort Rangi in the only way she knew how. Kyoshi was good, and she was loving. And-

Rangi was so utterly and completely undone by Kyoshi. In that moment, she realized couldn’t fight it. It was just better to surrender herself at this point. She would give herself to Kyoshi. Absolutely and completely.

She then performed an action, one that would have her own countryman demanding her topknot for. She closed her eyes as she placed her own hand over Kyoshi’s, and held it there. Accepting the touch, and soaking in the comfort and basking in the transgression that it brought.

“Rangi, I’m sorry,” Kyoshi started. “You were right, I shouldn’t have gone. I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused.”

Rangi took in a sharp shuddering breath, and moved her head to the side so Kyoshi's hand covered her mouth. To kiss her the palm of the one she loved, and also to cover up her erratic breathing. Her throat was sore, from the crying, the yelling, the dishonor, Kyoshi’s love, everything. “T-take responsibility, you idiot!” she sobbed.

Take responsibility for the mess you’ve made me.

That’s all she wanted. Kyoshi could do whatever else her heart desired. As long as she accepted Rangi’s mess, Rangi would be happy.

“A-alright…. I’ll do whatever you ask of me, without question!” Kyoshi announced, a serious look in her eye. That was so Kyoshi, always taking her own word seriously.

Rangi took another sharp breath and looked at Kyoshi. “You promise?” she pleaded, half-heartedly. Kyoshi didn’t owe her anything, and she didn’t want to demand anything from Kyoshi. She just wanted to be beside her, for as long as she was allowed.

“Promise,” Kyoshi said. Then she smiled at her, a smile that was too good for Rangi. A smile that Rangi didn’t get to enjoy for long, because Kyoshi’s body waved and then fell back asleep onto her pillow as Rangi called her name.

_________________________

A/N: Spiral Rangi! Spiral! \u0u/ *elmo fire meme* uwu

Also, ummmm Interlude 4 might be like…….not JUST interlude 4 cause it’s getting longer by the second…… (ﾉ≧ڡ≦) Whoops~! Salty doesn’t plan things well sometimes~! (I wasn’t going adapt a lot of the 3 chapters, just the highlights…….but…..I felt like I probably should….and then now I’m 20 some pages deep again u_u Plus, some of y’all asked more spice and….I will try TT0TT But I don’t wanna change this from M to E, but horny Rangi incoming maybe jklsdajfa TT0TT)

I’ve also been distracted with editing Rangshi stuff on my main blog, as well as reading things (dunno how many Wednesday fans are here, or if they read my Hyde in the Shadows fanfic, but we got a new novel and now it feels like my attention is being fractured~! *sobs* Fighting off my Wenclair feels so I can focus on my Rangshi feels is like really hard right now TT0TT), and other life stuff happening…. So ummmm not a lot of writing was done the past two weeks, sorry. u_u Luckily, I still have one more chapter buffer to go! :D *sobs*

#kyoshi fanfic #chronicles of the avatar #rise of kyoshi #rangshi #rangi #rangi sei'naka #shadow of kyoshi #kyoshi #rise of kyoshi au #kyoshi au #rangi seinaka #everyone's an idiot but Rangi's the biggest one of all~! uwu

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ajerzaaddict · 1 year ago

Text

Jerza Week 2023 - Dream / Nightmare

��Jellal? Jellal?”

Jellal woke up to Erza’s voice, gentle but laced with anxiety at the same time. He struggled to open his eyes; his eyelids felt moist and unusually heavy. When he finally pried his eyes open, the first thing he saw was Erza’s worried face. His heart clenched at the sight, and his brain, in its hazy state, tried to make sense of Erza’s expression.

Have I done something……?

The question slipped away before Jellal opened his mouth when he felt a comfortable warmth covering one side of his face. Erza palmed his face with a firmness which nonetheless felt tender on his skin, as if she was holding some fragile treasure. She studied his face with a concerned gaze as she blushed his cheek with her thumb and left a trace of wetness. It was then Jellal realized that his face had been tainted with his own tears.

Why was I crying in my sleep……

“You okay?” Erza asked cautiously.

"You will only bring disaster to Erza."

Jellal's eyes widened as pieces of his nightmare flashed through his mind.

"Simon." The name fell from his trembling lips in a barely audible sound.

Erza took a deep breath as worry clouded her eyes. She slid her hand to the back of Jellal's head and wrapped her arm around his head in a protective manner.

"I've told you." She whispered in a gentle voice which meant for soothing Jellal. "We will bear the weight of Simon's death together. I'm not letting you take on it alone and be crushed by it."

Jellal didn't respond, or look up at Erza, only wrapped his arm around her waist and held her tightly against him, breathing in her scent. He needed the evidence that she was alive and safe.

The nightmare, which haunted him not once, but numerous times since he broke his own rule and welcomed Erza into his life, began with him being tied down on the ground, surrounded by darkness and silence. A woman's painful cry sliced through the space next and darkness started to retreat. The scene unfolding in front of him was Erza covered in blood and wounds, being tortured by those who lost their lives because of him - from Zeref's cultists and slaves in the Tower to mages of dark guilds.

The only victim of his who didn't take their revenge on Erza was Simon. The bulk man stood beside him, looking down at him with disgust. He screamed and cried, begging Simon to save Erza, and struggled to break the restraints, just like a mad dog.

"I had already saved Erza with my life once from you and I can do no more. Why did you not learn from the past and stay away from her? You should have known that you will only bring disaster to Erza by staying at her side, with all the sin you have committed and the hate you have planted remain unresolved.”

Jellal took a deep breath to calm himself as the scene of Erza exhaling her last breath in his nightmare replayed in his head.

“It wasn't Simon's death.” He said quietly before untangling himself from Erza. He raised his head, looking into her eyes, looking for her liveliness for comfort. “It was yours which I dreamed of.”

He hated how his sound still shook, even though it was just a little bit, despite his effort in trying to keep his fear at bay.

“I’m here.” Erza gave Jellal a smile that was full of gentleness and understanding. She took one of his hands and placed it over her chest under where her heart was beating. “And I’m alive.”

Jellal closed his eyes to let the steady rhythm of Erza’s heartbeat soothe him. It was a relief to be reassured by Erza that she had not just died in reality. However, he could not help but think again of the words Simon said in his nightmare.

Even though he had always known the risks he could be bringing to Erza, Erza was drawing him in with her brightness and warmth, like flame drawing in moths. Before he knew it, he had already held her between his arms. He tried to convince himself that might be, just might be, he does not have to reject love in order to atone for his sins.

But his guilty self just would not let him take the easy route. Taking the form of the person who represented his sins the best, he was reprimanding him for breaking his own rule, getting side-tracked from the path of redemption and risking the safety of his loved one.

Jellal opened his eyes again. In front of him was Erza looking at him with a caring gaze filled with her love for him. He heaved a sign. He didn’t want to lose her. But it might be better to let her go.

“Ever since we have been together, I have got this nightmare in which you died in the hands of the people who were victimized by me.” He finally decided to be honest with Erza about his fear. “Simon in my nightmare……he was a symbol of my sins. He reminded me……it is dangerous to let you enter my world, which is filled with unresolved hate and regret because I have not done enough to atone for my sins."

Sadness overshadowed the love in Erza’ eyes. Her lips pressed into a hard line as she tried to contain her emotions, before she leaned towards Jellal and buried her face in his chest.

“I know the path of redemption is long, and you may never see the end of it.” She sighed. “I want to accompany you in this journey of yours to support you. But I don’t want to see you being eaten up by your guilt because of me. If my presence is causing you so much stress and pain, I can leave."

Don't leave me. Jellal swallowed those words, feeling shameful to ask Erza to stay after hurting her feelings, but wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight.

“You don’t have to make the decision now.” Erza said as softly and as tenderly as she could, but couldn’t help sounding slightly dejected when she spoke. “And I’m not abandoning you. Never. I just feel that you may need some time and space to……rethink when will enough be enough, and what you want to achieve in this endless path of atonement. I know you will find the right answer. I have faith in you. So, please have better faith in me too. Please know that I’m not afraid of facing any danger. Being a Fairy Tail’s mage already puts me in danger anyway. I can handle whatever comes at me, being called Titania not for nothing. You don’t have to worry about my safety.”

“Forgive my weakness, Erza. I know the reason behind the nightmare is always my problem, not yours, and only I can solve it.” Jellal pulled back from Erza a little; his hand reached out to hold her face. Erza looked up and their gaze crossed. “You are my light, guiding me whenever I lose myself in the darkness. Having you by my side is always a dream-come-true for me, not a nightmare.”

“It’s also a dream-come-true for me to be able to stay with you.” Erza leaned forward and pressed her lips on Jellal’s.

Kissing fiercely, as if it was their last kiss, they threw their worries to the back of their mind for the time being, losing themselves in their desire for each other which could not be more real.

#Jerza #Jerza Week #jellal fernandes #erza scarlet #oneshot #my writing

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lifmera · 9 months ago

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hi ! so I’ve been deep in the tokrev tags and something magical brought you to my feed bcs I’ve been searching for someone that does matchups. I would like to ask if I could request a matchup with tokyo revengers.. please take your time getting to this!

my pronouns are she/her, I’m 1.72cm, I swear too much, my favorite color is green, I’m a Pisces, and I’m pretty much a bedroom goblin. If I’m not reading or drowning in my headphones, then I’m sleeping because I love my bed a lot.

Personality wise? I won’t say that I’m antisocial, but I’m a loner. 😭 I prefer my solitude (I don’t have a problem vibing by myself), but I would enjoy spending time with my friends if I had any. I’m pretty much unapproachable thanks to my severe case of RBF and I tend to stay away from big gatherings, but if I attend them I try to separate on my own in a corner after awhile (for some reason ppl still come up to me though, it confuses me greatly)…I’m actually softer once you get to know me though and I’ve been told I have a warm presence that makes it easy for people to gravitate towards me & talk about important things (I always know someone’s deep secrets 😭). It’s easy to talk to people, I just choose not to. 😭

I can be sarcastic and I’m also straightforward. When it comes to relationships/feelings/intimacy, platonic or romantic, I am VERY awkward, it’s hard showing & receiving feelings. I am emotionally constipated until I trust you. I can be a little stubborn and sometimes reckless but it’s only when it comes to protecting my people and my freedom. I’m also very free spirited/carefree and will cut you loose if I can’t have my time to be adventurous. Even though I seem very cold and uninterested (50/50 I am), I am a hopeless romantic at heart.

I’ve typed out as enfp if that adds anything, but I’m not the stereotypical bubbly kind.

Hope that’s more than enough, thank you for your time and I hope life treats you well today and so on. <3

AYYY HI!!

Its finally your turn after stalking this 6 different times. LOL.

I’ve decided to pair you with…. INUI!

I think you guys would get along great. Genuinely.

I think he’d probably want to rot in bed alongside you. Someone he’d be comfortable with. I dont think he has many friends- other than koko and takemichi. And koko is…

I think your rbf wouldn’t do much to deter him. Let’s be honest he does too. He isn’t one to judge!

I think he’d love your warm nature. It’d draw him him like a moth to a flame. Kinda like how he’s with takemichi. You’d mean a lot to him!

I think he also doesn’t like to talk much either. He’s super quiet and would probably just want to rot in bed. I honestly can imagine you both laying on bed with one ear each with an earbud listening to a playlist and just. Staring at the ceiling.

I have to admit, i think you’d also remind him a little bit of koko. But Inui is also pretty much emotionally constipated too. He has trust issues- but i think you both definitely would overcome it together realizing you have a lot in common. And probably becoming super close with each other.

He’d be fine if you’re Adventurous. But I think he is the type of guy who either wants to be in bed all day, or not really go back home.

~~~~

I hope this was okay. Honestly writing this kinda took me for an emotional ride because inui is a comfort character and i love him sm. Also you are such a sweetheart and i hope the rest pf your day goes well when you see this <3

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perspectivestarters · 1 year ago

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Perspective's Sentence Starters; Speak Now (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift (Part II)

ENCHANTED

"There I was again tonight."

"Same old tired, lonely place."

"Walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy, vanished when I saw your face."

"All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you."

"Have we met?"

"This night is sparklin', don't you let it go."

"I'm wonderstruck, blushin' all the way home."

"I'll spеnd forever wonderin' if you knеw."

"I was enchanted to meet you."

"The lingering question kept me up."

"Who do you love?"

"I wonder 'til I'm wide awake."

"Wishing you were at my door."

"This night is flawless."

"This is me praying that this was the very first page, not where the storyline ends."

"My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again."

"These are the words I held back as I was leaving too soon."

"Please, don't be in love with someone else."

"Please, don't have somebody waitin' on you."

BETTER THAN REVENGE

"Now go stand in the corner and think about what you did."

"Time for a little revenge."

"I had him right there where I wanted him."

"I never saw it coming, wouldn't have suspected it."

"I underestimated just who I was dealing with."

"She had to know the pain was beating on me like a drum."

"She underestimated just who she was stealin' from."

"She's not a saint and she's not what you think."

"She's an actress."

"He was a moth to the flame, she was holding the matches."

"Soon, she's gonna find stealing other people's toys on the playground won't make you many friends."

"She should keep in mind there is nothing I do better than revenge."

"She looks at life like it's a party and she's on the list."

"She looks at me like I'm a trend and she's so over it."

"I think her ever-present frown is a little troubling."

"She thinks I'm psycho 'cause I like to rhyme her name with things."

"Sophistication isn't what you wear or who you know."

"They didn't teach you that in prep school so it's up to me."

"No amount of vintage dresses gives you dignity."

"Think about what you did."

"I'm just another thing for you to roll your eyes at, honey."

"You might have him, but haven't you heard?"

"I always get the last word."

"Can you take it back?"

"Do you still feel like you know what you're doin'?"

"Show me how much better you are."

INNOCENT

"I guess you really did it this time."

"Wasn't it easier in your lunchbox days?"

"Wasn't it beautiful when you believed in everything?"

"It's alright, just wait and see."

"Your string of lights are still bright to me."

"Who you are is not where you've been."

"You're still an innocent."

"At night, you live it all again."

"If only you had seen what you know now then."

"Wasn't it easier in your firefly-catching days?"

"Wasn't it beautiful running wild 'til you fell asleep before the monsters caught up to you?"

"It's okay, life is a tough crowd."

"(Age) and still growing up now."

"Who you are is not what you did."

"Time turns flames to embers."

"You'll have new Septembers."

"Every one of us has messed up, too."

"I hope you remember."

"Today is never too late to be brand new."

"It's never too late to get it back."

HAUNTED

"You and I walk a fragile line."

"I have known it all this time."

"I never thought I'd live to see it break."

"I can't trust anything now."

"Something's made your eyes go cold."

"Don't leave me like this."

"I thought I had you figured out."

"Something's gone terribly wrong."

"You're all I wanted."

"Can't breathe whenever you're gone."

"I'm haunted."

"Stood there and watched you walk away from everything we had."

"I still mean every word I said to you."

"He will try to take away my pain, and he just might make me smile."

"The whole time, I'm wishing he was you instead."

"Something keeps me holding onto nothing."

"I can't go back now."

"You're not gone."

LAST KISS

"I still remember the look on your face."

"The words that you whispered for just us to know."

"You told me you loved me, so why did you go away?"

"I can still feel your arms."

"All that I know is I don't know how to be somethin' you miss."

"I never thought we'd have a last kiss."

"I never imagined we'd end like this."

"Your name, forever the name on my lips."

"You're showin' off again."

"I'm not much for dancin'."

"I love how you walk with your hands in your pockets."

"There's not a day I don't miss those rude interruptions."

"I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep."

"I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe."

"Hope it's nice where you are."

"I never planned on you changing your mind."

LONG LIVE

"Remember this moment."

"The crowds in stands went wild."

"We were the kings and the queens."

"The night you danced like you knew our lives would never be the same."

"You held your head like a hero on a history book page."

"It was the end of a decade, but the start of an age."

"Long live the walls we crashеd through."

"How the kingdom lights shined just for me and you."

"Long live all the magic we made."

"One day, we will be remembered."

"All the years that we stood there on the sidelines wishin' for right now."

"You traded your baseball cap for a crown."

"The cynics were outraged."

"A band of thieves in ripped up jeans got to rule the world."

"Long live all the mountains we moved."

"I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you."

"Long live that look on your face."

"May these memories break our fall."

"Will you take a moment?"

"Promise me this."

"When they point to the pictures, please, tell 'em my name"

"Tell 'em how I hope they shine."

"I had the time of my life with you."

OURS

"Strangers' silence makes me want to take the stairs."

"If you were here, we'd laugh about their vacant stares."

"Seems like there's always someone who disapproves."

"They'll judge it like they know about me and you."

"The jury's out, but my choice is you."

"Don't you worry your pretty little mind."

"People throw rocks at things that shine."

"Life makes love look hard."

"This love is ours."

"You never know what people have up their sleeves."

"I don't care, 'cause right now, you're mine."

"It's not theirs to speculate if it's wrong."

"Your hands are tough, but they are where mine belong."

"I love the gap between your teeth."

"I love the riddles that you speak."

"Any snide remarks from my father about your tattoos will be ignored."

"My heart is yours."

"They can't take what's ours."

SUPERMAN

"It's the same thing to me."

"He's got his mother's eyes, his father's ambition."

"I wonder if he knows how much that I miss him."

"I hang on every word you say."

"I love you forever."

"You've got a busy day today."

"Go save the world, I'll be around."

"Come back, I'll be with you someday."

"I'll be right here on the ground when you come back down."

"He's complicated, he's irrational."

"I hope someday you'll take me away, and save the day."

"He's not all bad like his reputation."

"I can't hear one single word they say."

"You'll leave, got places to be, and I'll be okay."

"I always forget to tell you, "I love you"."

"I loved you from the very first day."

"I watch you fly around the world."

"I hope you don't save some other girl."

"Don't forget about me."

"I'm far away, but I never let you go."

"I'm love-struck and looking out the window."

"Don't forget where I'll be."

"Wishing the flowers were from you."

"Wishing the card was from you."

"Wishing the call was from you."

#rp sentence starters #rp sentence meme #rp sentence prompts #sentence starters #sentence meme #sentence prompts #lyric sentence starters #lyric starters #music starters #rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #ask meme #exodusmusing #*mystarters #*speaknow

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cassieuncaged · 1 year ago

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Wild Inhibitions - Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Astarion Ancunín x Ilwyn Crowdancer

Summary: She was young, still learning to control her wild magic when Ilwyn was abducted by the mind flayers. Little did she know that revenge for her mother's death was imminent as well as an ill timed infatuation with a vampire.

TW: character injury, blood drinking, canon typical combat, blood, language, etc.

WC: 2.3 K

Taglist: @confidentandgood, @galaxycunt, @euryalex, @inafieldofdaisies, @neonneurons, @roofgeese

“It’s not what it looks like,” he attempts to placate her, watching as shaking hands scramble for a weapon. “I wasn’t going to hurt you. It’s just that, well, I need blood.”

Ilwyn remains silent, realizing exactly what he is.

Stories of vampires dotting the Faerûn were spun among the sanctum in an attempt to frighten the only child gracing the halls. Never had she become acquainted with one until now, a slave to sanguine hunger as sharp canines glint.

“How many victims have there been?” her quarterstaff is readied and Astarion smirks; it appears the young sorceress has all but forgotten she could but ignite him with only tips of her fingers. “Hundreds? Thousands?”

“I thought I had a flair for the dramatic,” he chuckles haughtily before Ilwyn jabs at the air without any menace. It becomes painfully obvious that her combat skills are quite measly. “Stop batting at me, darling. It’s rather embarrassing.”

“And let you bleed me like a stuck boar? Hah!” Copper hair is matted from sleep, glowing eyes still groggy.

“Please.” He leers, knowing she’s far wiser than the frightened creature poised in front him suggests. “I just needed a bite. Normally bears and kobolds suffice but having to keep my energy up for battle has been...difficult. I need something more nourishing.”

“Why me?” no longer feeling she’s in immediate danger, the staff is tossed aside as spindly arms wrap around her ribs nervously. A dark gaze dips to ample cleavage while she mulls over the situation, enjoying how a tight corset hugs supple skin.

The elf’s beauty is rather unfortunate, considering how irritating Astarion finds her. Yet he’s drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

“Frankly, my dear,” a large hand tousles snowy white curls with roguish charm, “You’re the least likely to ram a stake through my chest. The Blade of Frontiers and the Gith are less inviting though I’m sure they’d taste delectable.”

“I could kill you with the snap of my fingers,” doing just that sparks an spark as the vampire is impressed the young woman finally remembered her roots of sorcery and the arcane.

“But you won’t,” Astarion stalks closer, closing the gaping space between their bodies and leaving barely a foot remaining. Realization buzzes through an undead brain as a plan is formulated. “Because a kind creature like you takes pity on a poor monster like me. After all, I’m all but chained by my condition.”

“What do I get if I allow you to feed?” looking up through wispy lashes, the dying light of the fire splashes across her face. A nervous pulse jumps in her throat that he can practically feel against the flat of his tongue.

“A rather impressive partner in combat. One that will readily gut enemies with the flick of a wrist.”

One that is no longer weak from overexertion.

But such an admission is too risky, an open wound she could exploit while Ilwyn is the one that needs to be exploited. For Astarion’s own safety. Which almost feels like a trap when she nods her head sheepishly.

“I supposed that’s not a terrible trade,” blunt teeth dig into painted lips, a dusky mauve. “Doesn’t mean I’m thrilled about it by any means.”

“Why don’t we get more comfortable?” a blush crawls up her neck before flowering across full cheeks. Astarion takes a warm hand in his own, gently pulling her down onto a rumpled bed roll. Shorn copper waves splay across a lumpy pillow, freckled chest rising and falling steadily.

He wants to ruin her. Savagely rip her apart and attempt to put the mangled pieces back together. She’s too perfect, too kind, too naïve. With hardly any convincing at all, a powerful sorceress has agreed to lend blood to a dangerous creature of the night.

“Be gentle.” She pleads in a stubborn whisper before averting her eyes. “And do not a drop more than you need.”

“Not a drop more.” Eyes as dark as wet carrion are wide, unblinking in promise before dropping her hand to the ground with a graceless thud. His own brace bare shoulders, digging into a pile of blankets before burying a sharp nose in the crook of her neck. An elixir of smoke and lavender invades his senses, making him the littlest bit needy with want. The intimacy is overwhelming yet he fights it with a searing sense of aggravation.

The icy tip of his tongue seeks out a jumping vein, heartbeat echoing in pointy ears like a war drum. Arching upward instinctively, Ilwyn grapples with one bicep as she attempts to swallow a contented sigh. Smirking in amusement, fangs are bared before easily slicing into soft sinews.

Blood of a thinking creature is indescribable. While not hearty or completely filling, there’s a tanginess that buzzes in his mouth like sipping from a goblet of rich wine. The elf’s blood is almost as sickeningly sweet as her personality, tasting of ripe cherries as the hot liquid flows down a twitching gullet.

“Astarion,” she hisses in pain, feeling as though ice has been injected directly into her carotid. Vision swims out of focus as he continues to dine upon her as small fists weakly knock against a solid chest. “Stop…”

Either she isn’t heard or is simply ignored before squirming beneath the man. Panicking, Ilwyn struggles to push him away, overpowered by a mass of muscular limbs. Unable to focus on an incantation, she kicks her legs dazedly before the vampire is pulling away, blood smeared across his lips.

For a moment he looks content as the woman attempts to calm her nerves before something unexpected happens. But that’s far too late as a puddle of mud bubbles to life, garnering their attention as a dirty and diminutive creature flaps a pair of leathery wings.

She summoned a mephit. And then another.

A cacophony erupts in camp, rousing the others from their tents. As if travelling with a bunch of similarly infected strangers wasn’t already odd, finding two of them chasing after winged muddy beasts surely is.

“Why in the hells did you summon these bastards?!” Astarion whines, knife barely perforating one wing as the mephit floats higher yet. His bow is neatly tucked in his tent for the night, making combat with sky bound creatures difficult.

“It was an accident!” Ilwyn screeches, a fountain of flames desecrates one of the mephits, splattering charred chunks of mud across the front of both elves.

“What in the blazes is going on?” Wyll yawns, rubbing at his stone eye while the others emerge to take in the unfolding scene.

“Ignis!” Ilwyn ignores the question, attempting to kill the second animal that mocks them so, dodging every fiery rivulet sent its way.

“I am covered in muck!” Astarion growls while Shadowheart and Gale silently watch the theatrics unfold. Before anyone else can step in, the monster is suddenly pierced by a sharp arrow, falling with a thud. A hush falls over the camp as all eyes fall on the seething Githyanki.

“In Vlaakith’s name, who’s conjuring beasts for me to kill in the middle of the night?” Lae’zel hisses, miniscule nose pointed upwards. Ilwyn hugs herself nervously while Astarion sneers at the whole ordeal, “Chk!

It’s early afternoon when a ruined village is stumbled upon. In spite of hiking towards a goblin nest to find the druid Halsin, Ilwyn’s uncontrollable magic and Astarion’s vampirism are both popular subjects.

“Is it often that you summon mephit’s when distressed?” Shadowheart chides with the click of her tongue as the elf concentrates on balancing on a water-logged boulder. “Or should we expect more frightening beasts like hook horrors to manifest next?”

“That’s hardly fair,” Gale tuts while Astarion remains stoic. “Magic is quite the complex mistress that’s rather difficult to please. It takes a lot of practice to become an expert in the arcane. Or to become one with the weave like myself.”

“How very noble of you,” the young woman scoffs, chain laden braid swinging in the breeze. “To be traveling with the fabled Wizard of Waterdeep, a cursed enchantress, and a bloodthirsty monster. May the gods bless us.”

“Not technically a monster, darling. At least not as much as a true vampire.” Astarion jumps with a grunt, before running into Ilwyn and practically knocking her over.

“An imitation vampire. How…quaint.” Shadowheart chuckles mincingly though the man pays her jab little mind while scanning their surroundings. Cliffs rise around them, craggy rocks blossoming out of dirt and dust while not even the faintest whiff of a goblin lingers in the air.

“Where in hells are we?” he looks at their forlorn leader, shoulders beginning to slump forward as she pushes the intricate sleeves of burgundy robes up pale arms. “Well?”

“How am I ti know? I’ve never ventured this far outside of the city. All I know is we crashed across the River Chionthar.”

“You’ve taken the lead, my sweet,” he patronizes sardonically, sniffing at a rather intrusive scent of sulfur and brimstone. “Why don’t you lead us? Unless you’re afraid you’ll turn us into a herd of cats or summon a blizzard.”

“Careful,” she jabs one finger into his chest, reaching her limit, “Or you’ll have to start feeding off wild boars again.”

“As lovely as this bickering is,” Gale pipes up as they trudge down embankment, voice lilting the slightest bit, “I think we’ve bigger issues concerning us.”

Across a rushing vein of water is a hulking Tiefling, devil red and engulfed in flames. One horn is cracked off signifying that this must be Karlach. Carefully approaching, weapons drawn, she roars with an unbridled fury before the flames quell in a suffocating hiss.

Amber eyes soften as a welcoming grin stretches across her face.

Ilwyn can’t help but think that Wyll’s assumptions were incorrect as another drifter is added to an ever-growing gallery of rogues.

Gale is all too happy to hike back to camp, to bury himself in the comfort of musty tomes and scrolls while Karlach joins the search for the goblin camp. For a Tiefling from Avernus, she’s in rather high spirits and keeps both Shadowheart and Astarion occupied with conversation.

Ilwyn is grateful the attention is off of her magical mishaps and the bloody wound congealed against her throat. She doesn’t notice but the vampire’s gaze is oft drifting back to her visage as they hike across the Faerûn. Something about the young woman beckons him, how she uses the tadpole to talk a hoard of goblin raiders out of a fight at a broken windmill before freeing a gnome without even considering a reward.

Yet the she’s as clumsy as she is persuasive, practically slipping off a cliff when the rogue finds himself wrapping an arm around a her waist. If she dies, so does his chance of survival.

“Watch your step, darling,” he hums, pulling her back against his chest for an instant. Her heart skips a beat, making lush lips curl over pointed canines. They’ve hardly been banded together very long and her resolve is beginning to crumble. But before she can even push him away, her eyes freeze across the horizon.

An old temple looms in the distance, enveloped by a thick fog as the orange roar of a campfire is subdued by the darkness. The four adventurers breathe in unison at the foreboding sight. They’re one step closer to finding Halsin, finding a cure. Then they’ll be rid of each other.

Rid of the wretched Ilwyn, Astarion thinks as she’s still held flush against him. Her enveloping warmth is overwhelming, clouding his senses before she’s being propelled forward on stumbling feet.

He doesn’t need her. Or she him.

“That looks creepy as shit,” Karlach announces, fingers wrapping around the handle of a battered great axe.

“Place is likely crawling with a slew of goblins if Aradin is to be believed,” Shadowheart interjects haughtily as their attention falls on the de facto leader of the rag tag team. Strands of bright hair whip across freckled cheeks as the sorceress silently ambles forward and towards a cobblestone bridge.

“What in the hells is the matter with you?” he screeches over one shoulder as a flame incinerates a shabby drum. It’s a smart, to assure they can’t contact the rest of rather grubby cohorts.

“Would you have rather I smeared shit across my face?” Ilwyn hisses as the two take turns at slew of charging goblins. The Tiefling chuckles, unrestrained as a sharp blade bears down on the weak skull of a fallen enemy.

“I thought it was pretty badass!” then Karlach is bounding up an incline with a roar as a stubby tracker attempts to sprint away.

“As long as the devil enjoys it!” Astarion huffs, grabbing a goblin by shoulder as a sharp blade is driven into the creature’s gut. Innards spill in a puddle while a whiff of burning flesh becomes prominent. “Then I’m glad you tossed dung at such a feral little beast.”

A part of him is impressed that she even thought to do something so childish and petty though it’s ending in a flowing river of blood and corpses. They have the upper hand during the battle though it’s rather messy. Shadowheart casts a series of protective spells as Karlach continues her slaughtering rage. Ilwyn hears the taut swish of arrow soaring through the air, losing track of how many enemies are left to be contended with.

And before she can turn to see the brawler approaching in her periphery, a serrated blade is tearing through a soft belly, blood blossoming across intricate robes. A bolt of light quickly consumes the vile monstrosity but the elf can feel consciousness fading as she reaches for the arm of a velvet doublet.

“What is, my dear?” Astarion licks his lips wolfishly, savoring the metaphorical taste of blood just as much as the literal. “Have another grotesque friend that needs carving?”

But there’s no response as fingers dig deeper against him before being followed by the unmistakable sound of a body slumping against the solid ground.

#bg3 fanfiction #astarion x oc #astarion x tav #fanfiction #otp: every last drop

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bittwitchy · 1 year ago

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Speak Now Taylor's Version Sentence Starters except its just the vault songs and better than revenge

change pronouns as necessary, combine lyrics if you want, yada yada, this is purely self indulgent tbh. BTR is here bc of the updated lyrics.

Better Than Revenge

"Now go stand in the corner and think about what you did" "time for a little revenge" "The story starts when it was hot and it was summer" "I had him right there where I wanted him" "She took him faster than you can say "Sabotage"" "I never saw it coming, wouldn't have suspected it" "I underestimated just who I was dealing with" "She had to know the pain was beating on me like a drum" "She underestimated just who she was stealing from" "She's not a saint and she's not what you think" "He was a moth to the flame" "She was holding the matches, woah" "she's gonna find stealing other people's toys on the playground won't make you many friends" "There is nothing I do better than revenge" "She looks at life like it's a party and she's on the list" "She looks at me like I'm a trend and she's so over it" "I think her ever-present frown is a little troubling" "She thinks I'm psycho 'cause I like to rhyme her name with things" "sophistication isn't what you wear or who you know" "pushing people down to get you where you wanna go" "they didn't teach you that in prep school so it's up to me" "But no amount of vintage dresses gives you dignity" "I'm just another thing for you to roll your eyes at, honey" "You might have him, but haven't you heard?" "I always get the last word" "Do you still feel like you know what you're doing?" "I don't think you do" "Let's hear the applause" "Come on, show me how much better you are"

Electric Touch (Feat. Fall Out Boy)

"Just breathe, just relax, it'll be ok" "Just the first time ever hanging out with you" "I've got my money on things going badly" "Got a history of stories ending sadly" "Still hoping that the fire won't burn me" "Just one time, just one time" "All I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life" "Got a feeling your electric touch could fill this ghost town up with life" "And I want you now, wanna need you forever" "In the heat of your electric touch" "I've been left in the rain lost and pining" "I'm trying hard not to look like I'm trying" "Cause every time I tried hard for love it fell apart" "I've gotten used to no one calling my phone" "I've grown accustomed to sleeping alone" "Still I know that all it takes is to get it right" "Just one time, just one time" "I was thinking just one time maybe the stars align" "And maybe I call you mine" "And you won't need space" "string me along when you decide"

when emma falls in love

"When ___ falls in love, she paces the floor" "Closes the blinds and locks the door" "Jokes about the ways that this could go wrong" "She waits and takes her time 'cause little miss sunshine always thinks it's gonna rain" "I know that boy will never be the same" "'Cause she's the kind of girl that you can't put down" "And all the bad boys would be good boys if they only had a chance to love her" "And to tell you the truth, sometimes I wish I was her" "Hangs in the air like stars in outer space" "she disappears, and we all just laugh after seein' it all these years" "When ___ falls apart, it's when she's alone" "She won't walk away unless she knows she absolutely has to leave" "She won’t lose herself in love the way I did" "'Cause she'll call you out, she'll put you in your place" "met a boy with eyes like a man" "Turns out her heart fits right in the palm of his hand" "Now he'll be her shelter when it rains" "Little does he know, his whole world's about to change" "Yeah between me and you, sometimes I wish I was her"

I can see you

"I’ve been watching you for ages" "Spend my time tryin' not to feel it" "But what would you do if I went to touch you now?" "What would you do if they never found us out?" "What would you do if we never made a sound?" "'Cause I can see you waitin’ down the hall from me" "And I can see you up against the wall with me" "What would you do? Maybe if you only knew" "Then we kept everything professional, 'cause" "Something's changed something I like" "They keep watch for eyes on a stow" "So it's best that we move fast and keep quiet" "You won't believe half the things I see inside my bed" "Wait till you see half the things that haven't happened yet" "I can see you in your suit and your neck-tie" "Passed me a note saying, "Leave me tonight"" "Then you kissed and you know I won’t ever tell" "And I can see you being my addiction" "You can see me as a secret mission" "Right away and I will stop behaving myself"

Castles Crumbling (Feat Hayley Williams)

"Once, I had an empire in a golden age" "I was held up so high, I used to be great" "They used to cheer when they saw my face" "Now, I fear I have fallen from grace" "And I feel like my castle's crumbling down" "And I watch all my bridges burn to the ground" "And you don't want to know me, I will just let you down" "You don't wanna know me now" "Once, I was the great hope for a dynasty" "Crowds would hang on my words and they trusted me" "Their faith was strong, but I pushed it too far" "I held that grudge 'til it tore me apart" "Power went to my head and I couldn't stop" "Ones I loved tried to help, so I ran them off" "And here I sit alone behind walls of regret" "Falling down like promises that I never kept" "My foes and friends watch my reign end" "I don't know how it could've ended this way" "Smoke billows from my ships in the harbor" "People look at me like I'm a monster" "Now they're screaming at the palace front gates" "Used to chant my name" "Now they're screaming that they hate me" "Never wanted you to hate me"

Foolish One

"My cards are on the table, yours are in your hands" "Chances are tonight you've already got plans" "And chances are I will talk myself to sleep again" "You give me just enough attention to keep my hopes too high" "Wishful thoughts forget to mention when something's really not right" "And I will block out these voices of reason in my head" "And the voices say, "You are not the exception"" "You will never learn your lesson, foolish one" "Stop checking your mailbox for confessions of love that ain't never gonna come" "You will take the long way, you will take the long way down" "You know how to keep me waiting," "I know how to act like I'm fine" "Don't know what to call this situation but I know I can't call you mine" "And it's delicate, but I will do my best to seem bulletproof" "'Cause when my head is on your shoulder it starts thinking you'll come around" "And maybe someday when we're older this is something we'll laugh about" "Now I'm sliding down the wall with my head in my hands" "How could I not see the signs?" "Oh, you haven't written me or called" "But goodbye screaming in the silence" "And the voices in my head are telling me why" "'Cause you got her on your arm and me in the wings" "I'll get your longing glances but she'll get your ring" "And you will say you had the best of intentions" "And maybe I will finally learn my lesson" "Ain't never gonna come" "Ooh, you will learn the hard way now" "Sitting 'round waiting for confessions of love, they ain't never gonna come" "you should've been walking out" "The day is gonna come for your confessions of love, when all is said and done" "He just wasn't the one, no, he just wasn't the one"

Timeless

"Down the block there's an antique shop" "something in my head said stop, so I walked in" "On the counter was a cardboard box" "And the sign said, 'Photos twenty five cents each" "Black and white, saw a thirties bride and school lovers laughing on the porch of their first house" "The kinda love that you can only find once in a lifetime" "The kind you don't put down" "And that's when I called you and it's so hard to explain, but in those photos I saw us instead" "somehow I know that you and I would've found each other" "In another life, you still would've turned my head" "On a crowded street in 1944" "you werе headed off to fight in the war" "You still would've been mine" "We would have been timeless" "I would've read your love letter every single night" "prayed to God you'd be coming home all right" "you would've been fine" "We would have been timeless" "'Cause I believe that we were supposed to find this" "So even in a different life, you still would've still been mine" "I had to smile when it caught my eye" "There was one of a teenage couple on the driveway" "Holding hands on the way to a dance and the date on the back said 1958" "Which brought me back to the first day I saw you" "Time stood still like something in this old shop" "I thought about it as I started looking 'round at these precious things that time forgot" "That's when I came upon a book covered in cobwebs" "Story of a romance tore apart by fate" "Hundreds of years ago they fell in love like we did" "And I'd die for you in the same way" "In the fifteen hundreds off in a foreign land" "And I was forced to marry another man" "Time breaks down your mind and body" "Don't you let it touch your soul" "It was like an age old classic" "The story started when you said "hello"" "In a crowded room a few short years ago" "And sometimes there's no proof, you just know" "I'm gonna love you when our hair is turning grey" "We'll have a cardboard box of photos of the life we made" "And you'll say, "Oh my, we really were timeless""

#sentence starters #speak now taylor's version spoilers #sntv spoilers #memes #sentence starter meme #rp meme #roleplay meme #rp prompt

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bananaofswifts · 1 year ago

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5 STARS

If the Taylor’s Versions project has taught us anything, it’s that the past doesn’t have to be a foreign country.

Sure, they did things a little differently there, but with the right motivation (reclaiming the songs that were sold behind her back), Taylor Swift’s glorious history can be recreated almost exactly how it was when she first burned these songs onto the soul of a generation.

That approach, however, was always likely to face a few challenges along the way and ‘Speak Now’ – for true hardcore Swifties, perhaps the most cherished album in even her beloved catalogue – is one of them.

Because her third album saw Swift fearlessly taking control, writing every note of the record herself and boldly choosing to capture a snapshot of her unvarnished teenage truth.

So, ‘Speak Now’ is always honest, sometimes brutally so. No one batted an eyelid at it in 2010, but in 2023, such things tend to be viewed through a different lens.

So, this third in the series of Taylor’s Versions sees the first significant rewriting of her not-so-secret history. She replaces the controversial ‘Better Than Revenge’ lyric, “She’s better known for the things she does on the mattress” with the more sisterly, “He was a moth to the flame, she was holding the matches.”

The new line works well, even if it might not hit as hard. So, before the faceless suits that now ‘own’ Swift’s original albums celebrate that there might be at least one song in their vault to still get streamed after receiving the TV treatment, it should be noted that that is the album’s only real attempt to mitigate the raw emotions of the past.

Instead, it’s worth noting that ‘Better Than Revenge’ is followed by the wise-beyond-her-years philosophising of ‘Innocent’ in which Swift observes that, “Life is a tough crowd/Thirty-two and still growing up now”.

Swift was indeed 32 when she re-recorded those words but the empowering, elemental force and simmering hurt that made the original ‘Speak Now’ such a remarkable record remains strikingly intact. The snarky gown-shaming in the wedding-crasher title track remains wonderfully unfiltered. The wounded distress at teenage tormentors and bitter bloggers in ‘Mean’ still cuts every bit as deep. And the forensic disassembly of a gaslighting ex on ‘Dear John’, now with added protective wisdom for her younger self, is as quietly crushing as ever.

In short, Swift knows exactly where to draw the line. And, on ‘Speak Now’, the lines she draws are beautiful, showcasing the countless things Swift excels at beyond hell-hath-no-fury-like-a-teenager-scorned retribution.

So, the joyous shimmer of ‘Sparks Fly’ reminds you even this most heart-breaking record still had moments of unfettered delight. The nostalgia of ‘Never Grow Up’ remains as guilelessly devastating as ever, despite the fact that Swift is now as far away from the third verse’s uncertain adulting as she was then from the first verse’s childhood snoozing. And best of all, ‘Back To December’ – a serious contender for Swift’s finest song – shows that, actually, there is nothing Swift does better than regret.

Of course, Taylor’s Version offers her the opportunity to do what that song’s protagonist couldn’t: go back in time and change it. But, while the main album production (by Swift and Christopher Rowe, replacing Nathan Chapman) softens the Nashville neon and country vocal twang, she generally resists the temptation to mess with perfection.

Meanwhile, the ‘From The Vaults’ unheard tracks – with co-production from Taylor’s favoured 2023 colleagues Jack Antonoff and Aaron Dessner – showcase both where Swift was and how far she’s come.

As befitting SN’s status as her most emo album, her collaborators come straight from 2010’s alt-rock top drawer. So, Fall Out Boy elevate ‘Electric Touch’ to soaring pop-punk status and the presence of Paramore’s Hayley Williams on ‘Castles Crumbling’ makes it a duet for the ages, their voices gorgeously intertwining as they wrestle with the fear that the cheers may one day turn to jeers.

Everywhere, you’ll find foreshadowing of Swift’s supremely versatile future: the astute third-person observation of ‘When Emma Falls in Love’; the folk(lore)y mannerisms of ‘Timeless’; the edgy guitars/saucy lyrics combo of ‘I Can See You’.

Her current tour has made Swift a bigger star than ever but, 13 years on, ‘Speak Now’ remains the foundation stone that her songwriting empire was built upon.

It was, as the main album’s closer ‘Long Live’ notes, “The end of a decade/But the start of an age”. And even if things have changed a little since your last visit, this Swift era is still guaranteed to give you the time of your life, whatever dragons you may be fighting these days.

#taylor swift #review #speak now tv

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opossumjournal · 5 months ago

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Sirius's escape from Azkaban

Wanted to post something a little more put together, as the Mullet drabble is clearly a work in progress.

Sirius broke out of prison to get revenge on Peter and not to raise Harry because, by the time he had figured out how to break out, he had decided that he was too broken of a man to raise Harry. That, paired with the insanity from the Dementors and the guilt for not being a better friend, channels into James and Lily's voices, yelling at Sirius. Only when he started listening, they were yelling about getting his head out of his ass. But what they didn't know, because he had betrayed the trust they put in him by choosing a rat and now they were dead, was that Sirius has always known that there's an intense, dark, black side to him. Hence, he knew that no matter how broken he was, he could at least still get revenge on Peter. A tiny part of him hoped that once he was away from the dementor's influence, maybe he could fix himself up or at least be good enough so that he could not raise Harry but be Harry's life.

Sirius's Plan:

Gets the paper for the crosswords (he was trying his damnedest to be a normal fucking person, and by Jove, it worked)

Test the theory about dogs being less affected by the dementors up close and personal, which meant antagonizing them and seeing how much of his soul got sucked out as Padfoot.

Slip through the bars because, damn, is he starved

Daring escape scene where he hides from dementors and guards alike. Action movie style.

The shift change comes in on the boat as apparition can be hard when you've been using a lot of magic to sustain a patronus and have been around dementors for an extended period of time. Sirius recons they can have someone less tired apparate to land to get them a new boat. At least, that was the plan. Till he circled the island twice but couldn't find a sign of the bloody boat. He started swimming, had to avoid the incoming shift change, and eventually returned to land. Unfortunately for him, he is so fucking stoked to see land and just lies down and rejoices for a min and fucking breaths; he gets spotted by a watch guard who tries to chase Sirius down. Cursing himself for acting so foolishly, how could he get distracted by something so bloody stupid as land at a time like this? He managed to give the guard the slip in a nearby wood, shifted, and made his true escape to anywhere but there.

Suddenly there is a niggle of not being quite as alone, of feeling seen, understood, and of knowing that she was alive. Following the pull kept Sirius going through the night and well into the morning when he collapsed from exhaustion as Padfoot tried to keep away from any Aurors, cops, or animal control while also needing to be with her again. (Hermione is reading the breaking edition of Daily Prophet, which is alerting the wizarding world to his escape and having some pulls of her own.) Once he wakes, the pull is gone, other than a few faint flickers here and there less and less often throughout the day. He knew he wasn't crazy all those years ago when she was gone, but he could still feel her. He knew she was still with him now. Now, Sirius just had to find the rat who caused his life to go to utter and complete shite rather than just run-of-the-mill poopy, turn him into Moody, the only one Sirius has a chance of convincing, clear his name, and get his girl, his pup, and his last remaining best friend back together and under one roof.

When the bond stops flickering and goes back to a steady low buzz in the back of his brain, Sirius is finally able to get his wits about him enough to figure out where he is. His brain still isn't too good at keeping focus, like a moth to flame, drawn to what feels good. And the bond activating feels so good it blocks everything else out. He remembers running through a forest for a while and then through some fields. He's currently curled in an alleyway on top of crushed, soggy boxes. Deciding he was awake enough to stop suffering the piss smell that seemed to overwhelm every alleyway in Britain, he got up, had a stretch, shook himself off, feeling his skin shake away from his bones like the dog he had been for so long, not enough fat or muscle to hold it all in place, and promises to nick himself a sausage roll, and went to have a look at where he ended up. It seemed he was on the edge of a city and suburbia; up the hill seemed to be row housing broken up by trendy shops, and down the hill and round the bend, the city seemed to be picking up a bit more, with a large graffiti piece about some bloke who wasn't a fan of Tescos across the street from him, which was a grocery shop if he remembered rightly. He assumed it was a happy memory as it was hidden behind a cloud of fog and cold in his mind.

Not seeing a lot of dogs about, he aimed away from the city he wanted to see more of; any place that lets you draw on the walls has to be worth visiting, as a human. He chose the residential area, hoping to find a park to steal a bit of a picnic or get a snack from a child in the mood to share with a big but sweet dog. Sirius spends the day not having a ton of luck and eventually finds himself at Magnolia Crescent after having to hide in some bushes after legging it when some bloke looking related to a walrus tried to shoo him out of the neighbourhood; he did not just escape Azkaban to get bossed around by some fat, balding, middle-aged, moustache clearly compensating, git. Sirius finds a nice secluded area between a garage and a fence and naps. Sirius wakes with a bang, seeing some kid loosing his shit on his trunk till he regains a moment of composure. Wait, trunk? Sirius walks out of the shadows to get a better look at this magical kid and sees a mini James. Sirius internally is losing his shit, but externally is frozen. Mini James notices him and raises his wand and Sirius can't help it, he lets out the smallest of warning growls, demanding the demons playing tricks on him leave, till mini James calls the knight bus, and Sirius takes off running to Hogwarts.

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nessie-gun · 1 year ago

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Fic Masterpost

Hello all,

I have decided to link my fics to a masterpost here. I intend to try to write more and post more on Tumblr, so I'll update it as I go.

Fair warning - I might write for ships you don't like. Please feel free to block the tags or block me. Either way, no hard feelings.

Rated T:

Betrayal: Oneshot (Now Out of Date With New Lore)

Ships: Loba/Revenant

Summary: Kairi's been acting skittish, and Loba knows just who to ask about it.

Commonality: Oneshot

Ships: Loba/Revenant

Summary: Loba realizes she has more in common with Revenant than she cares to admit.

In The Cards: Oneshot | Collab with @the-mechanica

Ships: Catalyst/Revenant

Summary: Catalyst ends up reading the simulacrum his cards.

Life & Death at the Burning Edge!: Oneshot | Collab with @the-mechanica

Ship: Loba & Revenant.

Summary: Loba takes her revenge on Revenant for sending her a creepy Halloween text. (Collab with @the-mechanica)

Rated E:

Chase: Oneshot

Ships: Loba/Bloodhound

Summary: Tracking gets Bloodhound's blood hot. Their prey? The she-wolf herself, Loba Andrade.

Five's an Uprising | Oneshot

Ships: Loba/Revenant

If two's company, and three's a crowd... what does that make five? - Revenant wants to thank Loba for all she's done for him. After all, what's ultimate power if you can't have a bit of fun with it?

From the Ashes : Multichapter | Sequel to MAD

Ships: Loba/Revenant, Loba/Bloodhound, Catalyst/Revenant, Bloodhound/Fuse.

Two old contenders reenter the Games, and in doing so, reveal a sinister plot.

Like a Moth to a Flame: Oneshot

Ships: Loba/Revenant

Summary: After breaking up with Kairi, Loba tries dating again. Her only problem? Revenant loves crashing her dates. It could be worse. He has his uses, after all.

Mutually Assured Destruction: Multichapter

Ships: Loba/Revenant, Fuse/Bloodhound, Kairi/Loba, Loba/Bloodhound.

Summary: Loba's obsessed with torment. Revenant's obsessed with revenge. This brand of obsession has a tendency to evolve - to warp into something new. Something malicious. Something *wrong*. Obsession has consequences... for everyone.

No Time for Regret: Multichapter | Collab with @the-mechanica

Ships: Loba/Revenant

Summary: Loba never considered herself one to not think things through. Which is why, when given the opportunity to go back in time to be the one who kills Kaleb Cross, she took it. Now, when faced with the actual hitman, she may have to consider otherwise.

Only You: Oneshot | Collab with @the-mechanica

Ships: Loba/Revenant

Summary: After stealing her fan during a match, Revenant comes to Loba with proposition. Part 4 of The Hollow series

Osculum Obscenum: Oneshot

Ships: Catalyst/Revenant.

Summary: Kairi tries her luck with Tressa. Tressa has other interests.

Out of My Head: Oneshot | Collab with @the-mechanica

Ships: Loba/Revenant

Summary: After catching Kairi in a lie, Loba takes herself dancing. Part 5 of The Hollow series

Quickie in the Thick of It: Oneshot

Ships: Fuse/Bloodhound, Loba/Bloodhound.

Summary: Stormpoint is immense. Sometimes, it takes an entire game before Hound sees a living soul. Luckily for them, the distance means that they can have a bit of fun.

Returning the Favor: Oneshot | Related to Quickie

Ships: Fuse/Bloodhound/Loba

Summary: Loba, Bloodhound, and Walter get a little cozy after a match on Stormpoint.

The Wolf, the Witch, and the Demonio: Oneshot | Sequel to Osculum Obscenum

Ships: Loba/Catalyst, Catalyst/Revenant, Loba/Catalyst/Revenant.

Summary: Tressa piques Loba's interest, and receives an interesting proposition from her lover in response.

"Trouble in Paradise": Oneshot | Collab with @the-mechanica

Ships: Loba/Revenant

Summary: Kairi bears witness to her girlfriend feuding with her own personal demon. Part 3 of The Hollow series

DNI border by @cafekitsune

#lobarev #loba/revenant #revloba #revenant/loba #sim writes #my fanfics

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youareinlove · 1 year ago

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i have thoughts about speak now (taylor's version)

this is not even all of them lmao but i can't think rn so here

mine: my perfect sweet angel beautiful perfect baby. nothing can ever compete sorry. i will fight for mine i will kill for mine i will die for mine and the re-recording did not disappoint

sparks fly: remember when i thought "lead me up the staircase" was the horniest thing 19 year old taylor wrote

back to december: the little twinkling instrumentals 🥹 i love the tiny little instrumental changes that come with the re-recordings. sometimes they miss but sometimes they hit and this HIT

speak now: "you wish it was me, dont you (HAHA)" was what sold me on this album re-recording ngl. it was just the moment i knew that this would be a good one

dear john: my jaw physically dropped when i heard her vocals. she just brought the energy with this one and it is very hurtful. but also i'm very proud of her

mean: and a LIAR 😏 and pathetic 👏 and alone in life 😤 and mean 😡 and mean 😡 and mean 😡 and mean😡 and-

the story of us: this was the first song on this album that i thought was BETTER than the original. like the others were just as good, but the story of us ate and left no crumbs

never grow up: we could unpack all of that OR- or, we could choose not to. and i think ik what im going to do :D (it was better than the original)

enchanted: i hope that wherever adam young is, the sun shines and it's a beautiful day

better than revenge: ok so the lyric change is what i know everyone's on about but like its a really good lyric. i'll miss the original but come on "he was a moth to the flame she was holding the matches" that's so funny. better than revenge already paints the guy as like, a trophy that gets passed around. now he's literally a hapless bug this is so unserious in the best way

haunted: once again better than the og. she just really delivered with the vocals and the emotional performance, and i almost feel like this moves haunted up in my ranking (almost)

last kiss: i hear the shaky breath idk what you guys are on about. maybe i'm the one who's wrong and i just hear it from force of habit but its really good anyway??? like it's probably her most emotionally delivered song in the original, so i was nervous about this one. but i really like it and i actually had to check while listening to it for the first time to make sure i wasn't streaming the stolen version.

long live: this song still makes me so emotional and its just like. we did point to the pictures. and we do tell them her name. and she's still here and shining! fate did not force us into a goodbye! ughhhhhhhh (also its heartbreaking with the added context of castles crumbling but that's for another day)

ours: i always loved ours so i hope you guys give it the love it deserves this time sry

superman: i also really liked superman and like haunted, this was a song she just EMOTED on like crazy. ate and left no crumbs AGAIN and it was a great finishing point for the non-vault songs

thoughts on vault tracks are in a seperate post bc i have too many

#speak now tv #.txtpost #whenitalkalot

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kit-o-nine-tales · 2 years ago

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Sunlight

Read on AO3

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Meg/Castiel

Rated M for canonical character death

Summary: They say that demons don't dream. Meg knows that's a lie. They say that demons can't change. Unfortunately for her, that turns out to be a lie too.

Aka: The demon known as Meg thinks about Castiel a lot over the years... and ultimately flies too close to the sun. A songfic using "Sunlight" by Hozier.

I would shun the light, share in evening's cool and quiet Who would trade that hum of night? For sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

She is a demon. She’s been a demon for longer than she can remember. She’s known all the different domains of hell intimately, been on both sides of the knife so many times that she imagines that nothing of who she’d been before remains. And she’s happy like this. She has a mission; something she believes in. Their father will walk the earth again, will rip the wings from all the angels and remake the earth so that his children can walk it without suffering under the cursed, purifying light of life and the sun. Angels and hunters would believe that demons can’t dream, but they do. And the one who calls herself “Meg” dreams of the day when she can leave hell behind forever, and stride across the earth in her true form without having to fear the light.

But whose heart would not take flight? Betray the moon as acolyte On first and fierce affirming sight Of sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

And then the Winchesters and their pet angel ruin everything, sealing her father back inside his cage, putting Armageddon on hold, maybe forever. Father’s trapped with one of his brothers, the one he’d meant to kill. Sometimes she sits outside of the cage, her head propped up in her hands as she listens to the sounds of them fighting. He’d been angry with her, before they put him there. She’d gone against the plan, wanting revenge on Sam and Dean. She failed, over and over. And she wonders if maybe this might be for the better. As much as she might wish otherwise, something changed within her during her encounter with Castiel, no matter how much she’d tried not to believe him, even if he did cast her into the flames and walk on her right afterwards.

She’s a demon, for fucks sake. What’s a little holy fire compared to countless centuries spent on the rack, having your own entrails fed to you, millimeter by millimeter?

Nothing, that’s what.

She sits outside her father’s cage, her chin in her hands, and she dreams. Meg, Queen of Hell has a nice ring to it — if she can manage to get Crowley out of the way. And she knows just the people she can use to help her do that.

I had been lost to you, sunlight And flew like a moth to you, sunlight, oh, sunlight Oh, your love is sunlight Oh, your love is sunlight But it is sunlight

When she next sees Castiel, she has her own goals now. Granted, they're fairly simple: kill Crowley and take over hell. She wants the Winchesters to owe her, she wants the Winchesters to help her. She wants — she wants to live. And she’s drawn to Castiel. She's not ashamed to admit it, because again, demon. What could be more demonic than potentially corrupting an angel, drawing it into the sin of lust?

She’s no stranger to using her attractiveness as a weapon, or corrupting the innocent (though the so-called "innocence" of angels is a crock; as far as she knows, a lot of them have just as much blood on their hands as the average demon, if not more, even if they do claim it's for righteous reasons.) But when she kisses Castiel to steal his angel blade, it proves itself more than just that. She actually enjoys it. And so, it seems, does he, if the way he presses her up against the wall and kisses her back is any indication. It’s at that moment Meg knows she’s completely fucked. The plan’s gone to shit, and she’s actually risking herself just to give the Winchesters and the angel a chance of winning. Clarence and the Winchesters leave her to the hounds and she chuckles at herself. That angel is a bad influence, and she’s hardly even spent any time around him. But he has her feeling. Wanting. Dreaming.

They say that demons don’t dream; but they only say that because demons shouldn’t dream. They’ll only start to get ideas. And that never ends well.

All the tales the same Told before and told again A soul that's born in cold and rain Knows sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

The Winchesters don’t trust her. Smart of them, really. She is what she is, they are what they are — tales as old as time and all that. But they have little other choice, with Clarence’s noggin scrambled by Sam’s hell memories. Part of her finds it funny; the angel can’t withstand even a small taste of what would just be another Tuesday to her — but at the same time, she knows what it is to suffer under the artistic hands of her father, and it is not something anyone can just shrug off. She honestly kind of respects Sam for managing to hold himself together as long as he did.

This altered Castiel is strange, which means something, coming from a demon. He’s got no filter, and has this… unsettling innocence. He looks at her and he sees her. The real her.

And he looks at all that pain, all the scars and artful carving that twisted up her soul, making it sharp, dark, and bloody — and he calls it beautiful. Looking back at him in these moments is like staring into the sun. Antithetical to the core of what she is, painful and altering, and yet... she can't tear herself away. Like something out of a dream... or a nightmare. She brushes it off with a dirty joke, but once again she finds herself being changed against her will by forces outside her control — only this time, part of her... allows it. Part of her dreams of where this new path will lead.

And at last can grant a name To a buried and a burning flame As love and its decisive pain Oh, my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

He calls her his caretaker — and as much as she wants to reject it, the name has power over her. She kills for him, and she knows it’s not just out of pragmatism. Like this, he lacks the fire that drew her to him originally, but still she finds she can’t ignore him. Just as she can't ignore the twinges of pain as parts of her reshape themselves under the influence of their strange connection. It's nothing compared to being strung up and remade on the racks, of course. More like a sunburn, maybe.

She surprises herself with how well she’s come to know the habits of this altered Castiel. He comes when she calls, and she can’t deny that she gets a thrill out of holding that over the Winchesters’ heads. Whatever changes Castiel might be triggering in her, she is still a demon, after all.

She dreams, all the same. She’s always been quite the dreamer, for a demon. Azazel and Lucifer had said it was what made her special. Demons aren't supposed to dream, but they do. Still, her dreams have always been different than those of her of kind. And now she dreams of a recovered Castiel, of power and dominion and safety and a powerful angel at her side, sexy and dangerous and likely to be the death of her. She's a loyal creature, for better or worse. She is what she is, and he is what he is, even if it doesn't seem like it right now. So after she saves him from Hester, she runs. She can only really rely on herself, despite everything. Still, she dreams, and avoids staring into the sun.

All that was shown to me, sunlight Was somethin' foreknown to me, sunlight, oh sunlight Oh, your love is sunlight Oh, your love is sunlight But it is sunlight

Of course, it can't be that easy. She makes it half-way across the world, where the local supernatural denizens have no connection to Crowley (demons from other cultures and religions have fairly different power structures) and Castiel, he of the pleading eyes and deep, disjointed thoughts pops up in front of her, scaring away the Kitsune she'd been bargaining with for some fresh virgin's blood to power her cloaking sigil.

"You know, lamb's blood would work just as well," Castiel says conversationally, "though I'd prefer it if you didn't kill the lamb. I could keep it calm, make sure it doesn't feel the pain or get scared."

"Why are you here, Clarence?" Meg asks tiredly. So much for avoiding the sunlight.

"It's gone quiet," Castiel says sadly. "But my fighting days are over."

"So you need a big bad demon to do the fighting for you, huh?" She pulls out her angel blade.

She'll do it, of course. She is what she is; loyal, for better or worse. She can't say who is using who here, anymore. But she supposes it doesn't really make a difference.

"I don't like conflict," Castiel says once again.

"I know, Clarence," she says, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

He places one of his own hands on her shoulder, and suddenly she's standing outside that extremely cliche hunter's cabin again. The only thing it's missing is a plaid flannel of its own.

Meg sighs, and goes to knock on the door, while Castiel zaps himself into the Winchesters's car, hiding. She rolls her eyes. The things she does for her cloud hopper.

Oh, your love is sunlight Oh, your love is sunlight But it is sunlight, sunlight

The Winchesters ask their questions, she redirects them to Clarence (she is still a demon, after all — she's not going to fight all his battles for him. Especially not his ex-boyfriend drama.) Still, she keeps an ear out, telling herself she's not going soft. Though she can't lie to herself as well as she'd like.

Then it turns out Rocky and Bullwinkle were stupid enough to try and summon Crowley. She tries to run, calling for Cas, but it's too late. The Rat King of Hell arrives, and she can taste how badly he wants to kill her.

Her little problem only gets worse when Clarence steps in to protect her from Crowley. For all that he hates conflict, he's willing to step up for her. It... touches something in her. She can't remember anyone ever doing that for her, not since she became what she is.

And it's enough to scare away Crowley, at least for now. The Winchesters need Castiel, and Crowley wants the Winchesters to deal with Dick Roman for him... and as Crowley says, Castiel would be upset if something were to happen for her. When the King of Hell can see that there’s something there, she knows it must be real. Crowley can smell manipulable connections like a shark can scent a drop of blood in the water. For now, Castiel’s attachment to her keeps her safe. But there’s no guarantee it will stay that way.

There's proof enough of that in her dreams; more often then not, when her mind drifts, things take a darker turn. She sees herself, burning up in the light of Castiel. She sees herself dying for him, sometimes at the hands of other angels, sometimes demons — prophecy was never her gift, but she can feel which way the wind's blowing. Whatever this thing between them is, it will be the death of her. She knows it in her gut.

Oh, and these colors fade for you only Hold me, carry me slowly, my sunlight Oh, all these colors fade for you only Hold me, carry me slowly, my sunlight

It's only more true when she agrees to help the Winchesters in their shitty plan to take down Dick Roman. If the demon she was seven years ago could see her now, it would stab her with her own angel blade. Meg, child of Azazel, student of Alistair, devotee to Lucifer — once again willingly serving as a distraction on the Winchesters' behalf.

This is all Castiel's fault. Being around him... she can feel the sharpness of her fading, her thorns rounding out, slowly.

It's made her stupid — but then, maybe she's always been like this. Loyalty is loyalty. A cause is a cause. She'd started down this path planning to use Clarence and the Winchesters to her own ends, but now she's driving Dean's stupid, over-compensating muscle car towards a building filled with the kind of creatures that angels and the first demons had nightmares about. Armed with just a knife and a jug of Power Clean.

She and Castiel exchanged glances right before they went their separate ways. He seemed... sharper. Like he got a little bit of himself back. They said a lot without saying anything. It gave her something to dream of.

And she's going to need that, she thinks, as Crowley's goons take advantage of the damage the leviathans did to her to throw her up against a wall and capture her.

Each day, you'd rise with me Know that I would gladly be The Icarus to your certainty Oh, my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

Months pass. Meg endures. Meg dreams. Compared to Azazel, to Alistair, to Lucifer, Crowley and his goons' attempts at torture are nothing; drops of spit in the ocean. She lies, she acts, she lets them think they're getting information out of her, all the while she keeps them from finding what they're actually looking for.

She thinks about Castiel, lets herself dream through the torture. Sometimes she thinks of calling for him. He'd come, if she called. She still believes that.

She doesn't call.

Crowley comes to gloat a few times, tells her that her little angel is dead, along with Dean Winchester. She doesn't want to believe that. She doesn't want to prove him right. So she doesn't call. If she were to call, and he never showed, then it would mean that Crowley's right.

Even though part of her thinks that if he were alive, he would have come for her by now. Unless he doesn't know she's been taken. Maybe he's lying low, making plans, searching... if she called, it would put him at risk.

So she doesn't call. There's not much she can do to protect her cloud hopper where she is right now, but that much, she can manage.

She scoffs at herself — when did she become such a damn softie? Nothing good ever comes from staring at the sun. Nothing good ever comes from dreaming. Not for a demon.

But she stared anyway. She dreamed anyway. And she just keeps dreaming.

Strap the wing to me Death trap clad happily With wax melted, I'd meet the sea Under sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

She knows the end is coming, one way or another, when Crowley starts complaining that some one is killing his minions. Maybe it's Sam, out for revenge. Maybe it's both of the Winchesters; Dean turning back up like the bad penny that he is. Or maybe it's her Clarence, finally coming to find her.

Yeah right.

Even when Dean, Sam, and Clarence do show up, she knows it's not for her. It's for the Angel Tablet, same as Crowley. Still, she's glad to see Castiel again. He seems different. More focused. Better, but still, not quite the Angel she remembers. She can tell Dean notices too. But she doesn't say anything. She knows what she is. Hell, if she said something, Dean probably wouldn't believe her. Better to just get out of here, save her own skin.

But then Castiel turns to her. "We need your help."

How can she say no? "Any of you dummies got a map?" She chuckles.

This will be the death of her. She knows it. But she just can't seem to stop looking at the sun. Reaching for it, dreaming of it. She lets them take her to their temporary base, wincing in the light of day.

Sam and Dean leave her and Clarence alone, and he looks at her like... like she matters. Like he cares. He takes care of her, cleaning her wounds even though eventually they'll close up on their own.

"These wounds have festered," he says worriedly.

"You really do know how to make a girl's nethers quiver, don't you?" She smiles at him and takes a swig of her booze. Trashy stuff, exactly what she'd expect from the Winchesters. Not that she really cares. She just likes to rag on them. Since, well... she's a demon. Funny how she has to keep reminding herself that, these days. Doesn't help that him taking care of her is actually really hot. Never thought she was one to get off on the touchy-feely crap. But here she is.

"I am aware of how to do that. Although it doesn't usually involve cleaning wounds," Castiel replies, far too seriously.

She raises an eyebrow. Damn Crowley for the shitty bleach-job. She's much better looking as a brunnette. Funny, how body just feels like hers now. The girl from Cheboygan's long gone. She almost feels... bad about that. Ew.

"Why are you so sweet on me, Clarence?" She asks. Even now, even when he clearly doesn't need her anymore, there's still something there.

"I don't know. And I still don't know who Clarence is."

She laughs. "Would it kill you to watch a movie, read a book?"

"A movie, no. But a book with the proper spells -- yeah, it could, theoretically, kill me."

He would give her a real answer for that. Funny though, she feels the need to tell him that he shouldn't be sharing that kind of information with a demon. She doesn't mention it. Instead, she keeps flirting, curious to see where it might lead. "You know, you're much cuter when you're shutting up. So, which Cas are you now? Original make and model or crazy town?"

"I'm just me."

A lie, but one she'll pretend she believes for now. Not like she knows anything about deprograming angels. Aside from maybe doing it the old fashioned way, original sin and all that. "So, your noodle's back in order?"

"Yeah, my... noodle remembers everything. I think it's a pretty good noodle."

Even though he's better, he's still... cute. She shouldn't even be capable of finding things cute. What is he doing to her? "Really? You remember everything?" But like Icarus, she just keeps reaching for the sun.

"If you're referring to the pizza man... Yes, I remember the pizza man. And it's a good memory."

They let that sit for a moment, staring at each other. She winces a little. "What are you doing to me, Clarence?" She finally asks.

He cocks his head to the side. "I believe it's called flirting."

"Not that," she sighs. "Look at my true form."

He blinks at her. "I don't think that was my doing."

She rolls her eyes. "Who else could it have been, Clarence?"

"You," he replies.

She sighs, raising the bottle to her lips again. "You ever miss the Apocalypse?"

"No. Why would I miss the end of times?"

He just doesn't get it. It makes sense, she guesses. Not like the sun cared that it melted Icarus's wings.

"I miss the simplicity. I was bad. You were good. Life was easier. Now it's all so messy. I'm kind of good, which sucks." An understatement. "And you're kind of bad -- which is actually all manner of hot. We survive this... I'm gonna order some pizza and we're gonna move some furniture around. You understand?" She might as well keep dreaming, though. She's come this far.

"No, I-I — " He seems confused.

Meg gives him a sly smirk and waits, watching as understanding dawns on his stupidly kissable face.

"Wait — actually... Yes, I — "

But before he can finish that thought, the cock-blocking Winchesters make their return. And joy of joys, they have another one of their shitty plans.

The dream was nice, while it lasted.

Oh, your love is sunlight Oh, your love is sunlight But it is sunlight

They stand outside a warehouse after dark. She could run. She could tell them she's done, that she's given them what they want. Save herself before she gets too close to the sun.

But she won't. The light is inside her now. There's no running from that.

When Sam suggests that she watch their backs, she's ready to do it. They don't trust her, even after everything. Not that she blames them. Light or no, she is what she is. That's why it burns so much.

But Castiel trusts her. Castiel cares. "....You should stay here and protect Meg."

"Since when do I need protecting?" She wants, suddenly, to hear him say it. That she's worth protecting.

"Since you were held captive and tortured for over a year."

Not quite what she was hoping for, but she'll take it. "Touché."

For all that the Winchesters talk about not trusting her, Dean does still leave her with Sam, which says more than words ever could. Even with the torture, she's pretty sure she could take Sam out it she wanted to, given the state he's in.

They're lucky that she doesn't want to. She's... fond of Sam, weirdly enough.

Oh, your love is sunlight Oh, your love is sunlight But it is sunlight

Not that he appreciates that.

"Wait -- so I took how many bullets for you guys, and you didn't even look for me?" She asks as they work together to ward the building. "Like, once?" She scoffs. Stupid of her to hope otherwise, really. Going soft sucks. "My hero. What's with all the "trial" and "being damaged" crap?" Even so, she's still concerned. Stupid sunlight, burning inside her, smoothing down her thorns.

"Look, no disrespect, but you haven't exactly been the most, uh, trustworthy person in our lives, Meg."

She can't deny that one, but still. "You're not gonna tell me? Seriously? How am I not team Sam?" She scoffs again. He doesn't get it. Or he doesn't want to. Fair enough. "Fine. Whatever it is, you okay dying over it?"

He ignores her. Which, fair; but if she's going to die for these bozos — and she is, she can feel it, like a sudden free-fall in her belly — she's going to say her piece first. He's fighting for a cause — she wants him to decide if he's really willing to commit to it.

"You don't want to say, fine. But remember, I spent time in that walking corpse of yours. I know your sad, little thoughts and feelings."

"That's creepy," he replies dryly.

It is. "You think I want to have little lingering bits of Winchester-thoughts bouncing around in my noggin? Honestly — You should be paying for me to see a shrink." She shakes her head. Stay on topic. "Here's what I remember. Deep down, in parts you never let see the light of day, you want to live a long, normal life away from creepy old things like me."

Of course, that's an easy one. She doesn't even need the Winchester leftovers to know that.

"I do," Sam scoffs. Then he sighs. "You know, I spent last year with... someone, and, um... ...now I know that's actually possible." He looks like he doesn't even know why he's telling her this.

Frankly, she doesn't either. She's said what she wanted to, so maybe she should quiet while she's ahead. "Wait — that's how you spent your last year? With a chick? Lame."

"You know, how about we just wait quietly?" He shakes his empty spray can.

She almost laughs. That's the Sammy she remembers having so much fun with. He's always at his best when he's being a little on the bitchy side. Whoever said blondes have more fun got it wrong; bitches have more fun.

"What was her name? You don't even trust me with a name? Cut me, do I not bleed, Sam?"

Surprisingly, she genuinely wants to know. Did this woman change him, like Clarence has changed her? Did he fly too close to the sun too? Or did he shed his wings and save himself?

"So, some chick actually got you off hunting, huh? That's one rare creature. Tell me — how'd you meet this unicorn?"

Demons aren't supposed to dream, and neither, she thinks, are hunters. It never ends well.

Oh, your love is sunlight Oh, your love is sunlight

Even more surprisingly, Sam tells her. Maybe part of him senses the light in her, burning away at what she ought to be. Or maybe he just wants to tell someone, and figures nobody cares what Meg has to say. Maybe he senses the end coming for her too — prophecy was his thing, even if he doesn't do it anymore, now that Azazel's blood's gone dormant with the demon's death.

"You fell in love with a unicorn. It was beautiful, then sad, then sadder. I laughed, I cried, I puked in my mouth a little. And honestly, I kind of get it."

Her dreams never have a happy ending. Castiel is the sun, and it's going to destroy her in the end. It might be warm, it might make her feel nice in all the right places and the wrong ones, but that doesn't change what it is. What she is.

"Really?" Sam sounds like he might actually be willing to believe her. Like he might want to hear her story too.

But they're out of time. "We've got company."

Crowley's goons come out in force. And she's sure that the King of Hell himself won't be far behind.

But it is sunlight

And of course, she's right. Maybe she's got more prophecy in her than she thought. Bitching isn't as fun when Crowley does it. And she can tell that Sam doesn't have much more fight in him. She's gotta get him out of here. She sighs internally. Sunlight might be the biggest bitch of them all. Sure stings like one.

"You gonna talk us to death or get down to it already?" She taunts, drawing Crowley's attention away from Sam. She knows how this ends. But Sam doesn't have to die here too.

Crowley pulls out an angel blade, and Meg feels like she's seen this moment a thousand times since she let the sunlight in. Yeah, she knows how this ends. She's fucked. Damn that angel. Damn her. Damn everything.

Meg steps up to the plate, looking back over her shoulder at Sam. "Go. Save your brother... and my unicorn."

"Did Timon and Pumbaa..." Crowley asks tauntingly. The door to the warehouse closes behind Sam. "...tell you their big plan? Did they share that little chestnut with you? They mean to close the Gates of Hell, sweetheart. They mean to kill me and all the demons -- you included."

She figured as much. One way another, her dreams were doomed from the start. It doesn't change a thing.

"You had me at "kill you," Crowley," she drawls with a smile.

He raises his fists. She braces for impact.

Oh, your love is sunlight

She does her best not to laugh at him as he lands another brutal hit on one of her kidneys.

"I could beat on you for eternity." He says. Dumbass.

Oh, your love is sunlight

"Take all the time you want, you pig." They hear the sound of car doors closing, and they both look up.

Meg finally lets herself laugh. "No Cas in the back seat. Your stone is long gone." She knows how this will end, but she's going to go down fighting. She stabs him in the shoulder.

But it is sunlight

Crowley gasps angrily, pulls out the blade, and drives it into her. Lightning sparks. Time slows.

Sunlight, sunlight,

She’s always wondered where demons go when they die. She knows it’s not purgatory, and even though it would make sense for them to just wind up back in hell, she knows that’s not how it works either. Maybe there’s just… nothing.

sunlight,

Can dead demons dream? She doesn’t know, but dying ones can — because even in the milliseconds she’s has left after Crowley stabs her, she’s still dreaming. She dreams of Castiel, finding her body and grieving. She dreams of Cas, showing up in the nick of time and healing her, rounding away even more of her thorns. It would hurt, but she’d live.

But she knows her dreams won’t come true. She’s a demon, and demons aren’t meant to dream.

sunlight,

Maybe dead demons don’t go anywhere. Maybe it’s just dark, quiet nothingness.

Once upon a time, she might have welcomed that. But not anymore.

Now… her last thought as the blade in her chest sparks its last, tearing all that she is to shreds, is that she’s going to miss the light of her unicorn.

sunlight

#fanfic #supernatural #megstiel #Sunlight #songfic #canonical character death #Hozier song fic #i just think Meg 2.0 is hot okay #the music made me do it #is it cliche? yes #was it fun to write? also yes #and isn't that what matters?

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