14 Works by mistyslut
Listing Works
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a little tepid pool, drying inward from the edge by mistyslut
Fandoms: Yellowjackets (TV)
26 May 2025
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Summary
“Oh.” she said, voice surprising her with how it had hunched into the caverns of the throat. “We’re— we’re not— we’re not together.” The thought of being together, two, with anyone that was not Van made her stomach jump. (And, after all, Misty’s hands were not made for Taissa to grasp. Natalie’s cologne cast a shield around her impossible to penetrate; the knight hidden behind the veil of her prince’s favour.)
“No?” Jolene tutted. “Shame.” A silence fell. They finished mixing the drinks, handed Taissa the martinis and jerked their head. “Have a nice night.”
***
OR: Two women nurse two broken hearts. Misty discovers something about herself. Tai tries to remember and forget.
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do not go gentle into that good night (rage, rage against the dying of the light) by mistyslut
Fandoms: The 100 (TV)
13 Feb 2025
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Because Lexa herself could never be youthful nor young, that courtesy was always denied. At birth, she was crowned in the colour of the cave, at infancy, pronounced a warrior. In time, she would absorb the soul of the Pramheda and those that came after like the bread and wine Moira took at her communions. She was a smooth surface upon whom many felt free to tread. She was a wrinkle in the fabric of time.
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Lexa, in distortions.
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i'd rather hold onto this road with pliers than have another face of you frisk my heart by mistyslut
Fandoms: Agatha All Along (TV), WandaVision (TV)
15 Jan 2025
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“Do not,” Agatha hissed, between laboured pants, “call yourself mommy ever again. We don’t have that kind of relationship.”
“Anymore,” Rio laughed, pinching Agatha’s cheek. It hurt. She’d grown her nails. “But fine. You miss daddy, don’t you, lovebunny?” she stuck out her lower lip, pink and glistening like makeup residue, legs spread and thighs slotted directly over Agatha’s hips. She spoke in a manner that commanded the red vessels beneath Agatha’s skin; that steered oceans beneath purview of her forever-wandering eyes. It stole her breath, the plaits of Rio’s power branding themselves against her carcass. “Be a good girl,” Rio intoned lowly, knife poised like a rash waiting to break out, still as a reflection. “Tell daddy the truth, my little foxhound.”
*
OR:
rio comes to wandavision -
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Summary
“You are divinity in light,” she said, not quite callous, not quite awed. There was a pucker in her smile. “My name is Agatha. Have you interest in shedding your maidenly cloak this night?”
Rio was taken aback, as the fox was taken aback by the hound. Deep, red things crinkled at the corners of Agatha’s eyes, bloodlust, and if Rio had a pulse to go with her ink-soaked heart, then it would have quickened as Agatha’s nostrils flared. Death was a stranger to desire, the two had been surgically removed in the cot. Both in the face of, and in the body, and yet, queerly, a most strange feeling reached between her legs, like fingers digging in a begging bowl. As though she was stock. She was tempted to sneer.
“Oh, but where are my manners?” Rio tittered, catching herself upon her back foot with ease. “Hello Agatha,” said she, extending forth her hand, “my name is Death.”
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IN WHICH, death finds love.
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all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand by mistyslut
Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)
01 Jan 2025
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Summary
Caitlyn felt like tar sifted through a grinder, stuck in the metal teeth of the parentheses between consciousness and a dream. She supposed it was the white gold they pumped through her veins that had her tongue slurring in her mouth and that made her see purple flowers tattooed on the insides of her eyes. Vi. Vi. Her brain, saddled with morphine, murmured the name like it was a waking prayer.
When Caitlyn awoke, her prayer remained unanswered. Her beseechments lay on the altar untouched. She lay beneath thin, white covers provided only for modesty of her naked form, accompanied only by the faint jab of the IV and the jagged breaths creasing her lip. She felt like a suction had been forcefully shoved down her throat, frost scraping at the arid pinkness. Vi. Vi.
“ Vi,” she pleaded softly. A man in a white jacket scurried to her voice. Not Vi. The ceilings fell on her when she realised she’d imagined it all, Vi’s scream ripping the vocal chords from her throat.
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Caitlyn Kiramman, her scars, her fears, her woes and her loves -- post-finale 2x09.
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the shores bend and break for her (and she begs to be loved) by mistyslut for timebombed
Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)
23 Dec 2024
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Summary
“Killing’s not always a cycle,” the sun burnt with affection for the moon, skin touching, fleeting, scalding, and yet not quite. His heart thrummed like a solar flare. “Sometimes it’s just a bullet caught astray.”
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OR: The TimeBomb missing scene, S2Ep9.
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rulers who neither see, nor feel, nor know, but leechlike to their fainting country cling, (till they drop, blind in blood, without a blow) by mistyslut
Fandoms: An Inspector Calls - Priestley
02 Dec 2024
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The girl — Eve? Elle? — averted her gaze impetuously, refusing to stare at the worn-down parchment of Sheila’s skin. It made her eyes bulge, righteousness pricking the surface beneath her skin like a boil. Sheila coveted that gaze, deep-black like the pepper-shaker standing lonesome on their tablecloth — like the ones back home, with Gerald at her side, as responsive as a rock. Sheila coveted attention — it was her thickest flaw; she coveted it even if it made her feel a disease.
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Sheila and the Milwards incident.
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she flung herself upon the cobra's hood, and, as she was battered this way and that, she closed her jaws tighter and tighter by mistyslut
Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)
25 Nov 2024
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“I still thought of you, you know. Even after you fucked up,” she murmured, the beads of her confession resting against Caitlyn’s skin. For every secret, she payed the debt of a kiss. “I’d wonder what you were doing,” an ode to the sharp jut of Caitlyn’s collarbone, “I’d wonder what you ate,” a praise to her clothed shoulder, “and I’d wonder what you thought. If you thought of me.” She recaptured Caitlyn’s lips, seeking closeness — searching for contact; for a thread and needle that would tie a seam into their bodies, bind their flesh as a single knot. Vi only wanted to breathe the air Caitlyn breathed. She only wanted to tread the ground Caitlyn tread.
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OR: caitvi if the mongoose spitting episode went differently
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my heart is as some famine-murdered land, whence all good things have perished utterly by mistyslut
Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)
24 Nov 2024
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There was the weight of a smiling city upon her. She could have worn it as a crown, as tradition dictated. She could have worn it as a necklace, as her mother did.
She wore it in her cloak instead. The deadness that meant she did not care.
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OR: countfagula!cait era!!!
Series
- Part 2 of sides of a mirror, sides of a coin
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each breath feels heavier than the last by mistyslut
Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)
24 Nov 2024
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She washed the pink out of her hair. She dug out oil and coal and lathered it into her scalp, stinging and harsh, and then drew jagged lines from eye to chin. She washed out the memory of long fingers and warm hands; of a cheek pressed against a shoulder and a mouth pressed to the piercing of a brow.
She wept shadow from her scalp. Vi raised her fists to level her eyes, elbows sharp and blood trickling thinly in her knuckle-cracks. She’d get infected if she didn’t patch them up soon. She didn’t fucking care.
*
OR: Vi's pitfighter era!!
Series
- Part 1 of sides of a mirror, sides of a coin
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do not weep for the ashes, for they are the soil of something greater (a phoenix knows no grave) by mistyslut
Fandoms: Supergirl (TV 2015)
19 Nov 2024
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Summary
“Done to you? Lena, Lena, I have saved your life.”
Lillian’s hands crawled across her body like spiders, reaching for the buttons of her shirt. She unhooked them in a crazed frenzy, glee flushing her cheeks a feverish pink. It even reached up to her eyes, flecks of green and gold dancing like knives. Tenderly, terribly, Lillian’s hands cupped the mass stuck to her; the green plating that ached dully when pressed into her skin. She could not breathe.
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OR: a brief look into metallo!lena bc i was bored.
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i measure every grief i meet with narrow, probing eyes (i wonder if it weighs like mine, or has an easier size) by mistyslut
Fandoms: Supergirl (TV 2015)
18 Nov 2024
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It’s not that she was beautiful. It’s not that she was’t, either. She was the sort of person who Andrea’s mother would look at and say: She’ll grow up to be a stunner. (Like you, mi cielo.) It wasn’t that Lena’s face was heart-shaped, and nor did she have the soft, petal features of a succubus — the opposite drew Andrea to her. Everything about her face was harsh and sharp; cheekbones blunt and flat and eyes pale. There was something nearly sallow about her, a tinge of something that made Andrea think of books. Great, big, dusty old tomes with their pages partially bitten off by hungry mice and smeared in ink.
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Andrea and Lena: a story told in two parts.
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tattoos of memories, and dead skin on trial (for what it's worth, it was worth all the while) by mistyslut
Fandoms: 賭ケグルイ | Kakegurui (Anime & Manga)
16 Nov 2024
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Summary
Have I ever told you that I loathe you with a passion, Juraku?
Have I ever told you, with utter flippancy, how much of a bore you can be at times?
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She heard her before she saw her, and felt her before she heard her. Like glass bottles, Sachiko’s smile cut into her back and sent a wave of nausea that almost caused her knees to buckle. Like preliminary chills, Sakura felt her breath against the shell of her ear, something in it tinged with the soft fuzz of electricity — Sachiko was radioactive, like a bomb.
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Sakura was a pale, shallow membrane of ugly things. Looking into the singularities of her pupil, Sachiko felt her feet tread glass. She had a face of wax, cinched tight over her agonies, burning and bubbling from the gasoline Sachiko threw. She wanted to start a fire. She wanted to relish Sakura when she charred and smoked, when she turned as black as her gown.
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You look foul today. Have you brushed your teeth?
Kiss me and find out.
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OR, ALTERNATIVELY: It's graduation day for our favourite twin girls. They fuck about it.
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Summary
A lesser woman’s heart would have broken. A lesser woman would have held her heart out upon the edge of a cliff like pecking meat for a vulture. Eve didn’t hand out her heart on a silver platter, leaving it to rot — no, armed with a scalpel, she was the woman who pried within the chests of others and tore out their hearts and squeezed, until they loved her in turn. She sacrificed nothing. (Don’t you understand? Don’t you understand? A woman like her isn’t capable of sacrifice, because she’s nobody at all.)
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A brief study of Eve Tessmacher, a supercomputer.
Title from Ovid's 'Metamorphoses' -- "Everything changes, nothing perishes".