can i request another one? 👀 if you’re more a fan of this ship - darcy/riven, song: bang by armchair cynics
That’s more my speed, yes, though I haven’t written them before. I might have flipped the vibe of the song on its head a bit. Darcy is just being a bitch and her intentions are as far from noble as they come. Mentions of blood and death, too.
Purple would quickly become his favorite color and he’d never think of music again when there were spirals of her power swirling in his head. He’d never get the chance to tear himself away from her magic when it sneaked into his dreams to take control of them like she’d poisoned his heart and had him wrapped around her finger when they held hands. He was all in her palms, serving himself to her on a silver platter when his thoughts were already poisoned by his own ambitions that were bigger than him and were crushing him under their burden that his insignificance couldn’t live up to.
He was hungry for greatness and she was throwing him crumbs of her power just like dog treats he gladly accepted with his limited mind. All of the space in his head was taken up by her and those empty promises she gave, empty words and empty stares but, of course, he couldn’t catch on to that when the temptation was real and far more dangerous than her own illusions no matter how good they were. Infallible. Everything that he wasn’t.
She had to admit he served his purpose well but only because she held him back from going off like he wanted to. He was so full of anger and so uncoordinated - like a child playing with a gun and pointing it at every direction including at himself. He’d shoot himself in the head if she wasn’t there to steer his aim and she couldn’t allow it. It wasn’t the time for him to die when it would make her bleed, too. She needed him to do things with stealth and not poke holes into the elegance of her deception. But he’d have his chance to sacrifice himself for her like the spellbound fool that he was. He’d made himself an offering to the darkness and she was coming for him.
That raging heart of his was the perfect container for her plan. None of the blood rushing through it could wash her scheme out of it when it was all hers, the red disappearing wrapped in the flowing purple of her lies invading each cell of his body with the bit of power she spared on him. He didn’t need that much, really. Just a touch of her magic sent him reeling in his own fantasies where he trapped himself to wait for her command to self-destruct. Whatever fight he could try to put up wouldn’t matter when the time came and she’d left him all ready to fulfill the role he’d dreamed of for so long.
He wanted to be a weapon and she’d give him the opportunity to do exactly that, would force it on him regardless of his wishes if he managed to realize on time what was going on. It would be too late when she pulled the trigger and made him explode in his friends’ faces. He had the cutting edge of a sword but not the grace of one and the bursting energy of a blaster was wasted on him when he didn’t have the precision to direct it. A ticking bomb was all he could ever be and thanks to her insight to send pieces of him flying like shrapnel and cutting through his friends, he’d bring them all down at the touch of her hand and she wouldn’t have to sacrifice her perfectly manicured nails when he was the device she’d use to execute her plan and tear them all apart, just a river of red left when she took away her purple from the scene of their gruesome end. Their dying cries would be the only threnody they’d get.