August Challenge!
It's time for our August challenge: Music Kink!This post will serve as the prompt submission, claims, and posting area. This challenge functions like your average kink meme: Anonymously (or un-anonymously!) give a prompt in the comments section with a fandom, pairing, and (here's the kicker) a song instead of a kink. Then, others will hopefully
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She screams like an animal, one leg snapping sideways to collide with the chair beside them; John leaps up with a yelp as it crashes into the carpet beside him, tossing up a slight puff of dust that makes it look like a skyscraper tumbling over while aliens ascend or monsters rise up from the deep. He half expects Vriska to keep shouting, to start pulling beams out of the wall or kick out the window and vanish into the sky, or at least knock over all their half-drunk hot chocolate and send brown stains and china shards soaking into the rug, but she doesn’t. She rakes her claws through her hair, shakes her head, folds her arms, breathing hard.
“It’s okay not to understand, John,” she says, a slight rasp edging her usual smirking sneer. “You don’t know what it’s like, never having that extra weakness. I could almost feel a little sorry for you. It must be so frightening, not being able to even throw something or walk across a room without being sure whether it’ll go the way you want it to, always knowing that something really bad could happen to you without you even knowing.” She flips her hair over one shoulder, smiling at him. “It’s even okay if you feel a little jealous. I’d want to be like me too, if I were you and things turned out badly for me all the time.”
“But things turn out badly for you, too,” he says, fiddling with something in his pocket. A long time ago, Rose told him a story about a bunch of blind guys who went to look at an elephant, and one guy grabbed the tail and the other grabbed the tusk and then they had an argument about whether an elephant is a rope or a spear. This feels a little like that. “I mean, you’re dead.”
She snorts. “Yeah, big deal! It was a hero’s death, okay? That’s how I can be dead! And now I’m all cozy here with you having your strange chocolate drinks and winning all the games, and Terezi’s stuck back on that lousy old asteroid choking on dust and having to fight that Noir guy. Booooooooring!”
“Well….” He coughs. “I’m… I’m glad you’re having fun, I guess? But - it sounded like a lot of bad stuff had happened before that, too. Like when you stopped being friends with her? Terezi, you said her name was?”
Vriska sighs, brushing her hair behind her shoulders, and drops back to the floor before the Parcheesi board. “Yeah, they weren’t a ton of fun, but they all worked out okay in the end. That’s what it means to have all the luck, you see? Nothing really, really bad ever happens to me, and it never will. I’m invulnerable!” She grins, wide as a jack-o’-lantern, but her shoulders are still hunched, wingtips quivering. John sighs, shoving his hands into his pockets, nibbling at his lip.
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