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in which the world rights itself.
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Kattappa never liked amavasya nights even as a child. The darkness that descends without the moon to guard the skies has always struck him as an eerie, unsettling one. His grandmother used to tell him stories of the warrior-moon battling darkness, protecting a slumbering world from evil. It is this story he is thinking of as he looks up at the empty sky that night, when Sivagami summons him to the King’s Chambers.
// alternate ending, where Kattappa walks away before he stains his hand with the blood of his friend, his almost-son.
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He asked her which one was her favorite. A faint blush coloring her cheeks, she rifles through the drawer in her nightstand, and wonders claiming which one would make for the least embarrassing admission.
Bookmarked by verrawyn
26 May 2021
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He isn’t going to spill his guts to this woman surrounded by guinea pig merchandise, he absolutely is not— but then he remembers the world is ending tomorrow, so, what the hell.
“I just want him to choose me,” Crowley says. “For once, I want him to fucking choose me, over… over…” His mind reaches frantically for a human-appropriate metaphor to couch his whole impossible situation in, and eventually finds one.
“...over God.”
***
(Crowley and Fleabag share a moment, in the middle of their stories.)
Bookmarked by verrawyn
23 Aug 2019
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I love you, too.
It'll pass.
Much like God, that last bit turned out to be a lie.
Bookmarked by verrawyn
23 Aug 2019
