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#and like yeah folklore was everything i ever wanted
wewontbesleeping · 7 months
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hmm thinking about "i've got a hundred thrown out speeches i almost said to you" in the context not of writing letters addressed to the fire. but of wedding vows. and it's making me sad
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queers-gambit · 2 years
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Cherry Blossom Colored Kisses
prompt: when Eddie confesses he wants to ask Chrissy Cunningham to prom, you start coughing out flower petals.
pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Stranger Things
word count: 8.8k [got a bit carried away]
note: given ages aren't confirmed in the show, let's establish that Chrissy is 17-18 years old, and Eddie's 19. reader's 18.
warnings: Hanahaki Disease ([Japanese folklore] fictional disease where the victim coughs up flower petals when suffering from one-sided love), cursing, angst, seemingly unrequited love, but things work out! ✅ no spoilers
other Eddie Munson Hanahaki Disease fics: Tears in the Rain Gone with the Sin
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Like every other Friday night, you hitched a ride back to his trailer with Eddie as you had nowhere else to be. Well, probably wasn't true as you were a social butterfly with plenty of prospective friends to hang out with, but your favorite place on any given day was always with Eddie.
He was home, he was safety, he was warmth, he was what you needed after either a really bad, or even a really good day.
Eddie had this superpower where he could either turn your bad mood around or he could increase your happiness tenfold. He was next to never upset or angry or frustrated, he was content to vibe in a constant state of "chill".
Your feelings for him might've started around your sophomore year, when he decked Jason Carver in the jaw for making you uncomfortable. Even to this day - it was one of the only times you've seen him angry, and the fact that it was because Jason was flirting with you made your heart lift. It spurred the hate between the two boys, but only solidified your everlasting friendship with Eddie. Yet, you buried these feelings out of fear of rejection, and change - you didn't want things to change.
You liked things where they were.
But it was getting harder to pretend you didn't like your best friend. As if everything he did didn't make you feel silly, stupid, and giddy all at once.
As if those wide, brown, doe eyes didn't make you melt, yet simultaneously make you feel stronger than before. A single look from him could give you enough confidence for a week.
As if his antics, pet names, hand holds, late night cuddle sessions when you were feeling lonely didn't put your stomach in knots but send you heart up to the sky, like if was filled with helium.
However, you were content because you never wanted to lose him. So, you'd suffer through whatever this was if it meant he stayed close. Despite the heaviness in your chest, you continued to pretend nothing was wrong because if Eddie picked up on it, he would surely hound you until you confessed - something you couldn't handle.
So, you curled up beside him in his (stained) bed with your head leaning on his shoulder as his hands distracted themselves by fiddling with the strings on his acoustic guitar while you nursed the joint between your lips. You were content to simply exist with him; be in his presence and listen to his musical talents. Occasionally, your hand would raise the joint to his lips, allowing him to take his own hit and for the peacefulness to prolong.
Things were good - like they've been for the past few years of being "best friends". I mean, yeah, you knew Eddie before the "Jason incident", but you were just a Freshman that only knew the town's Freak from a distance. You had two classes together. Often saw him at lunch. Sometimes gave him notes if he missed class. And ever since that day that he protected you from Jason's creepy moves, you've been thicker than thieves.
Things were quiet in his room outside of the occasional crackling of the joint's end, and his lazy strumming; things were peaceful; things were good.
Until Eddie sighed and leaned back to the wall behind you both, interrupting the simple thoughts in your head.
"What's up?" You asked quietly, turning to ash the joint in the plastic tray on his bedside table. "Huffin' pretty loud over there, pretty boy, I can practically hear you overthinking."
"It's stupid," he chuckled, focusing on the strings beneath his fingertips again. "Don't even think about it."
"I doubt it's nothing," you countered. "C'mon, you tell me any and everything."
"I, uh... I don't know how to tell you this thing, though..."
Now you were curious, "You kill someone?"
"What? No! God!"
"Gotta hide a body?"
"Not this weekend."
Nodding, you asked, "You fuck my mom?"
"Not yet, but can't say it's not on my to-do list," he teased lightly.
"Then I don't know what scenario there could be that you're too scared to tell me," you chuckled, smoking wafting in the thin air between you both, lingering from the lack of circulation. "C'mon, cutie, what's up with you? You don't usually hold back."
He sighed, the strings plucking harshly as he his head flopped back now. "It's just... Have you given any thought to prom?"
"Prom?" You repeated with a small laugh. "Not entirely, I don't know. Why? Thinking of crashing it?"
But he was silent, which made you a little nervous. You sat up and turned to face him head-on, your criss-crossed legs resulting in one knee pressing to his thigh. He looked like he wanted to say something, but a subtle shake from his head assured you that he changed his mind.
"Are you going?" he asked softly instead.
"Um, nobody's asked so I don't know. I'd like to, maybe," you tried to joke. "Why? You offering?"
He chuckled lowly, "Uh, well, I would be, if..."
"If?"
He gulped, "You know Chrissy?"
Of course you knew Chrissy Cunningham, who didn't? You didn't live under a rock, for God's sake. She was the designated 'it girl' of Hawkins, the 'queen' as people dubbed her - a sweet girl who was captain of the cheer squad that had an impeccable smile. Adorable strawberry blonde hair. A petite body, sweet voice, and of course, she'd been Eddie's crush since middle school. Yeah, you knew Chrissy Cunningham.
"Yeah," you breathed, nodding slowly. "What about her?"
"Well, I uh... I was thinking of asking her to prom. You know, before we graduate and get the fuck out of this town... Thought maybe I'd try my hand, you know? See if... See if something could finally happen."
You swear your ears started ringing because no way you heard him correctly, right? No way he was telling you he was going to ask Chrissy Cunningham to prom - no way. There wasn't any way. After all, the plan since about a year ago was that you would go together pending no other offers. No way the guy you've been in-love with for fucking YEARS was telling you he wanted to ask someone else.
And Eddie didn't know, but about 8 different guys had already asked you but you didn't want to go with them. You wanted Eddie to ask you - you wanted to spend a night of teenage normalcy with your best friend, and maybe get the chance to confess your feelings for him on the dance floor. Maybe you'd dress to match. Maybe he'd even get you a corsage - but Eddie wasn't the type.
So, why was he thinking about asking Chrissy? High school thriving Chrissy? Who would definitely want the stereotypical high school experience? Like - prom with a pretty dress, lots of laughter, her date giving her a corsage as her mom snapped pictures.
She would want all that, right? Would Eddie be the right date to give it to her?
You were honestly shocked he wanted to even go due to the idea that anything socially conforming was out of bounds for him. And when you made that pact, it was mostly out of a joke but you had hoped this whole time he was being serious. And he was being serious about prom, but not with you...
"Sweetheart?" Eddie asked softly, his brows now furrowed in concentration. "You okay? You look a little shaky."
Instantly, you nodded. "Yeah, totally, just, um... Just remembered I have this huge essay due Monday, yeah, uh-huh, yep. I should probably get started on it." Eddie's brows now fully crinkled as you jerked your leg away from his when his hand moved to lay on it, turning and instantly finding your belongings scattered around the floor of his bedroom. "Um, yeah, so, as for prom and Chrissy - I think it's cute. You should ask her, she'd be stupid to say no."
Eddie watched you tug your shoes on in haste, sitting up, "Hey, slow down, speed racer, I'll drive you - "
"No, it's cool," you assured swiftly, tugging your jacket on to combat the chill of the spring night. "I need the exercise."
Eddie scoffed, "I'm not letting you walk."
"I don't want a ride, Eddie," your voice took on an uncharacteristic hardened tick, something you've never had to use with Eddie. But you couldn't help it, your chest was caving in and lungs burning the longer you stayed there. "I just wanna walk for a bit, clear my head before homework, okay?"
He nodded slowly, "You sure, doll?"
"Positive."
Eddie frowned when your bag was tugged up your shoulder, turning from his room and jumping when he called, "Wait!"
Praying to God he was going to tell you he changed his mind and he wanted to ask you to prom - not Chrissy - you turned to look back to him. But he only pouted, "Don't leave without sayin' goodbye, sweetheart, c'mere."
Fearing the wet sensation coating your throat, you just backed up to the door and blindly reached for the doorknob, "You'll see me later, Eds. I've gotta go."
"Call me when you get home?" He asked, standing from his bed when you pulled his bedroom door open and moved out into the hall of his trailer. "Hey, hey, honey, what's the rush?" Eddie called, jogging a couple steps to follow after you.
"Just gotta go, Eds," you couldn't face him. But something tickled your throat and nose, prompting you to ask, "Um, do you have any tissues?"
He nodded, watching you pause by the front door before turning for the bathroom. A moment later, he returned with a box and handed it over, "Take it. I'm sure your allergies are acting up."
You nodded, "Thanks."
"Wait - "
But you were out the door and surging down the steps of his 'porch', turning on the gravel and making for the main road. Eddie watched you go from his front door, worrying over whatever he'd said, but after wracking his mind, he couldn't understand. He didn't need to know your chest was so painful, you debated if you were having a heart attack at 18; making you desperate to get away from him if it meant the pain would lessen.
You cried the whole walk home. The 8-minute car ride was actually a 41 minute walk due to the tightness in your chest, the tissue box tight in your hand as your lungs started to itch, burn, constrict themselves.
The coughing started that night. The entire walk, you used tissue after tissue to cough into and would ignore the flecks of color present against the soft white, shoving them down into your bag.
When you arrived home, the house was, as usual, empty. Steve Harrington used to hang out a lot with you due to how often both of your parents are out of town but once he started dating Nancy Wheeler, all visits stopped. Granted they were broken up now, he still didn't come back, and you were forced to get used to the loneliness. It left room for Eddie to slide into his place, often coming over to keep you company as being home alone for so long often made you nervous.
Eddie hated you feeling nervous, so, he had a couple of shirts and pants at your house for him to change into when he stayed the night. Now that he was going to make a move on Chrissy Cunningham, it made you think there wouldn't ever be other sleepovers. You worried he would never come back to your home, and an ice pick was conjured to stab through my heart.
In your room, you tossed your bag to your bed and groaned when it bounced off and spilled the contents over the floor. Shaking your head, you coughed a couple more times and got ready for bed; but soon, the coughing turned violent.
Kneeling over, your throat burned with crushing pain as your chest felt too tight with pressing tension. The heaviness was back, sitting right on your sternum and causing a twisting discomfort when you hurled into the toilet bowl. However, when your watery eyes opened, they were staring straight into clear water that was peppered with tiny little florals with swirls of bright red blood.
Panting in shock, confusion inked into your mind as you stood shakily to your feet and rushed for your bag again, pushing through the belongings to find the used tissues. Panic swelled in your chest when the tissues found, too, were coated in petals and blood.
"What?" you whispered to yourself, fear taking over. However, instead of doing the rational thing, like go to the hospital, you just threw the tissues away, flushed the rest, and curled up in bed out of exhaustion and draining adrenaline. Sobs wracked your lungs, making your body convulse and for the coughing to get worse.
You didn't move all weekend. You couldn't, for the pain was too great in your heart, mind, and body. Even when the phone rang multiple times through those two days, you couldn't care enough to get out of bed and answer it to see whatever was wanted from you. When the next Monday came around, you forced yourself to get in the shower and wake up from the cold water; getting dressed and heading out the front door to spy Eddie's van at the base of your driveway.
You sighed and made sure there were extra tissues in your bag as you made for his passenger door. When you hopped in, you were greeted with a glare.
"How was the essay?" he grits.
"Fine," you sighed, knowing it was a lie to make your swift escape, and leaned your arm on the door to prop your head up and stare out the window.
"Mhm. Thanks for letting me know you got home safe," he snipped. "Not like I was driving around at 1 am to make sure you weren't dead in a ditch somewhere."
You nodded slowly, "I forgot, I-I'm sorry."
"You forgot?" he repeated before scoffing. But when he glanced over and noted the heavy bags under your distant (watery) eyes, he frowned, "Hey? Y-You okay?"
"Mhm."
"Your nose is bleeding."
"Shit," you hissed, reaching for a tissue, and trying to mop up the blood from under both nostrils. "It's nothing," you tried to explain, sniffling a few times, and noting how sharp the action made your chest. Like something was stabbing through you, perhaps that ice pick again.
He shook his head, leering, "Suuuuure, mhm, okay." But when you didn't respond for another 3 minutes, he was annoyingly asking, "The hell's up with you?"
"Nothing, Eddie."
"Bullshit! You haven't looked at me once, didn't even greet me when you got in, and now you're sitting there, silent as the grave."
You only shrugged, not knowing how to put it in words, "Just tired, Eddie."
"Bullshit," he sighed. "But fine, if you don't want to talk, that's whatever. Just continue ignoring me, I guess."
Your eyes shut as you sighed, whispering, "I'm sorry."
"Why? What'd you do?"
Only shrugging, your head shook, and you sat up when you two made it to school. The moment the car stopped - not even in park - you were opening the passenger door and hopping out to take desperate gulps of fresh air. You waited a moment as Eddie got out, too, and just as his arm lifted to wrap around your shoulders to lead you into school, his attention was caught by someone else.
"Oh, there's Chrissy," he smiled, seeing the pretty cheerleader at her car. "Should I do it now?"
Gulping, you shrugged, "Do whatever makes you happy, Eds."
Eddie didn't understand what he did wrong to deserve your cold shoulder but figured he could talk to you later before making a beeline for Chrissy while you made for the front of the school. You ignored peers around you as you stuffed books and such into your locker, wheezing into a tissue when coughing took over.
A few other students paused to look at you with concern; you hand slamming to a closed locker as you couldn't draw breath in. The pain was suffocating, and the coughing made you nearly double over.
Robin paused at the sight, making her way over to you and just before she could ask if you were okay, she was gasping lightly. Looking up, you saw what caught her attention to spy Eddie Munson entering school with Chrissy Cunningham daintily hanging off his arm. Jason's glare was most prominent, but your best friend’s was much, much fiercer, and you? You had to look away because the ice pick was now hacking at your heart; palpitations making your chest throb with white-hot tension.
"Oh, no," Robin paused, glancing at you to see tears already in your eyes as your hands shook. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry - "
"Why?" You sniffled, shaking your head. "Doesn't matter, they look happy, right?"
"You don't," she whispered.
"Doesn't matter," you repeated. "I'll see you later, Rob."
She frowned as you charged away, watching you go as Eddie and Chrissy came to a halt beside her. "She say what was wrong with her?" Eddie asked the girl softly.
"No," Robin grit her teeth, offering him a stale up and down look. Though, she was slightly impressed Eddie bagged the popular cheerleader, she knew of your feelings for the metalhead, and huffed through her nose before taking off down the hall after you.
"Is everyone mad at me now?" He asked, looking down to the girl he'd successfully asked to prom.
"I'm not," Chrissy chirped with a soft smile.
So, here's the whole thing. Even though you've denied it for years, your friends knew DAMN well how in-love with Eddie you were. Robin had been the only one to really pick up on it a few years ago but kept quiet because of how close you and Eddie were. However, when you sat down for lunch, the Hellfire Club were ready to ask what was wrong when they saw their Dungeon Master enter the cafeteria with Chrissy.
They offered you looks of pity, understanding your behavior now.
Your hands started to shake, and you coughed harshly, bending at the waist to cough into a tissue half under the table. From beside you, Dustin caught a glimpse of pink and red in the tissue as your hand fisted over it and sniffled hotly. "Are you okay?" Gareth asked in concern, his wide eyes looking ready to shed tears. "You're sweating."
"Yeah," you whispered, catching sight of Eddie and Chrissy heading for your table. "Um, I-I forgot I have a test to make up in Spanish, so, I'll see you guys later, okay?" You rushed, picking up your untouched tray of food and shouldered your bag.
Before any of them could protest, you were tossing the tray and racing out of the opposite doors Chrissy and Eddie had come in through. You vaguely heard Eddie calling your name, never turning around, and shoving out of the doors.
You gasped when the fresh air hit you, not caring that you lied about some test and now headed down for the field. You didn't care if someone picked up on your lie. You didn't care about anything other than the crushing feeling in your chest; the way your lungs felt deflated, and how your throat was consistently wet from blood.
Robin had seen your abrupt departure and left Nancy Wheeler's side to follow you. When she found you under the bleachers, coughing and throwing up with tears down your cheeks, she knew something was wrong. Robin crawled under the bleachers, not caring about the trash or debris left, to reach your side and hold your hair back.
"Oh, my God," she wobbled, catching sight of the puddle under you. "W-What the hell is that?"
You panted, a string of blood hanging from your lips before falling to the saliva beneath you. "I-I think... I think something's wrong, Robin."
"No shit!" She hissed. "Let me take you to the nurse - "
"No, it's fine," you insisted, using another tissue to wipe at the blood under your nose. "I uh... I think I know what's going on."
"What?"
"We'll need to go to the library first," you nodded before shaking your head. "No, never mind, y-you should go back to class."
"Nope," she insisted. "I'll go to the library with you. Want me to call Steve? Get us a ride?"
You sniffled and nodded, tugging your bent knees into your chest as she nodded and begged you to stay put before dashing for the outside payphone. She felt anger as her eyes cast through the glass windows of the cafeteria, catching sight of Chrissy and Eddie laughing away with the rest of the Hellfire Club. Her fingers roughly punched in Steve's number and insisted he come pick you and her up. "Right fucking now, dingus!"
About 9 minutes later, Eddie had glanced out of the windows and caught the distance sight of Robin holding you in her arms and walking you (slowly) to Steve Harrington's trademark BMW.
His brows furrowed in confusion and concern before Chrissy's sweet voice was distracting him. In fact, he might've let himself get swept up in the sweetness of Chrissy - that he forgot you. The girl he's wanted since middle school was finally in his grasp but in order to do that, he had to let you go - resulting in cherry blossoms to sprout in your lungs.
The moment he made up his mind about Chrissy was the moment your fate was sealed. And after a trip to the library with Steve and Robin, you had your answer as to what was going on. It didn't make sense, but you understood there were three options for you at this point.
Option One: die. Literally, that was it. Let this disease kill you. Okay, then Option Two: get Eddie to love you back... And that was seemingly farfetched and way out of asking range. Third Option was to undergo a surgery, but according to literature, choosing this surgery would save your life but erase Eddie Munson from your memory. It was the only way to stop the pain besides dying from it or make someone to fall in love with you.
But that wasn't real love, was it?
So, you checked the book out and Steve drove you home.
You thought you could handle things, after all, the book said it could be manageable. So, you soldiered on and played everything off the next Monday as if you had some head cold making you a bit off, and not literal florals blooming in your fucking lungs.
Eddie didn't question it because he was too excited to tell you that Chrissy had said yes. She said yes - to him! To prom! And she was going to wear red, his favorite color. He was so shocked, it made you want to weep a little because Eddie Munson seemed to be the only one (minus Jason Carver) to not understand how amazing Eddie Munson truly was...
Well, maybe the rest of the school body didn't understand either, but that was beside the point. Eddie was always too hard on himself and hearing how shocked and happy he was that Chrissy said yes, just made you honestly sad. He didn't even know how loved he was, making the self-deprivation very real. It was once upon time ago that your job was to help him out of those ruts, but now it would be Chrissy's responsibility.
You knew if he was yours, you wouldn't let a single day go by where he thought he was inadequate. But he wasn't yours, and now that he had Chrissy, you knew he never would be.
Your throat swelled and more petals were coughed into a tissue in your hand when you realized that you'd bought a prom dress (in case Eddie did ask you) about a month ago, and it, too, was red. Yet, he was going to match Chrissy and you'd wasted $150 on a pretty, silk dress... And new heels because your mother insisted you feel (and look) like a princess.
You tried to be excited and happy for him, but it was hard to when Eddie was enraptured with Chrissy. You coughed more in that week than when you had that terrible flu 2 years ago.
When that Friday rolled around, you were heading for his van (like usual), only to find him and Chrissy waiting on you.
"Hey," you greeted cautiously, smiling at the pretty girl you never really had a full conversation with.
"Hey," Eddie smiled - and you noted the lack of pet name. "Uh, you ready to go?"
"Um, yeah," you cleared your throat, glancing at Chrissy again.
He understood your nonverbal question. "I'm thinking I'll drop you off at home first. Cool?" Eddie offered, looking at you as his arm snaked around Chris' waist.
Confusion warped into your voice, "Um, i-it's Friday?"
"Yeah," he nodded.
"I-I thought we hung out on Fridays? Like, every Friday?"
Eddie's other hand rose to rub the back of his neck, "Well, yeah, usually, but I'm taking Chrissy out on a date, so, I'll have to drop you off first."
"Oh," your eyes widened, and you felt so fucking stupid in that moment. "Shit, okay, my bad," you backed away, "I can get another ride, it's no big deal. Have fun on your date!"
"Hey, no, don't be ridiculous," Eddie shook his head, taking a tentative step forward as if he was nervous to leave Chrissy's side and approach you. "I take you home every day, c'mon. It's nothing, get in the van. I always take you home."
But you felt sick over the petty idea of sitting in the back while Chrissy took your seat in Eddie's car... Your place in Eddie's life.
Your head shook and a half-smile was forced over your lips. "No, it's seriously okay. You guys should go, it's cool. Have fun, okay?"
Eddie frowned, "I'll call you later tonight, okay?"
"Sure," you whispered, turning finally, and hustling your steps back for the school. Your hand balled in a fist to catch the splatter of blood and petals that shot out of your mouth, trying to shake the sick off so nobody would notice.
Light pink petals danced to the pavement behind you, and your heart plummeted with it as Eddie's van tires squealed when he peeled out of the carpark.
Robin was still at school and agreed to give you a ride home with Steve and Dustin Henderson; the two sharing looks of concern for you the entire drive. They kept asking if they could do anything, but the truth was, they could see the life slowly draining from you, and knew they couldn't do anything.
You didn't answer Eddie's call that night. You didn't let him drive you to school, either, since he'd been busy with Chris that all your conversations now revolved around the girl. This didn't mean he didn't come pick you up, but you usually always opted for the bus to "catch up on reading." You didn't hang out on Fridays either, because it was "date night with Chrissy", and you didn't sit at the Hellfire Club table at lunch.
It went on like this for another three weeks. Eddie replaced you with Chrissy, and she was everywhere you looked. You stopped going to lunch all together in an effort to save yourself from the sight of Eddie's arm around the pretty, popular cheerleader; instead, coughing out cherry blossoms under the bleachers and then forcing a smile on your lips like nothing happened.
The time you did spend together (a minuscule amount of time in comparison), Eddie would fill the space between you with chatter about how amazing Chrissy was - unaware of the pain he was causing you.
Unaware that every word strangled air and rational thought from you.
Unaware that you often held your breath to save you from the pain; to save you from bursting into tears; to save you from yelling at your best friend that you didn't care he finally bagged his crush.
Eddie was going mad, however. He didn't understand your distance, but he also didn't do anything to rectify the situation. He just figured you were going through something, and you'd show up at his trailer soon; tears down your cheeks as his arms open to welcome you.
He started to count the day since he last touched you. Eddie began to feel as if maybe he'd done the right thing by choosing Chrissy due to how far you pulled away from him. He's loved you for years but never admitted or confronted the feelings; so, he convinced himself to let you go in pursuit of Chrissy. So, to save himself from rejection of the most important person in his life, he thought it was a "safer rejection" by asking Chrissy.
He was just shocked she accepted, though he had a sneaking suspicion it was just to piss Jason off. Eddie didn't mind being her distraction because Chrissy was his distraction from you.
When the week of prom rolled around, you couldn't get out of bed because you were in excruciating pain in your heart and mind. Your mother had left on another business trip and only left a stack of cash for "emergencies", telling you she loved you, and never noticing your overflowing waste bin of bloody tissues. So, when Eddie rolled up that Monday, he was confused when you didn't come outside for a few minutes. He beeped, waited longer, beeped again - louder - before confusion troubled his heart.
He knew you were upset and distant, he knew you "liked" riding the bus now; but he also knew you weren't out of your house, yet. He planned on showing up earlier than the time you left, because he wanted to ensure you drove to school together - like usual.
Eddie got out of his van and approached your door, knocking repeatedly but never receiving an answer.
When he got to school, Chrissy told him to call your house and check on you - standing with him, as all he did was listen to the dial tone of a connecting call. You never answered.
At lunch, Eddie found Robin and asked her if she spoke to you at all this past weekend. She glared, "What? You didn't?"
"No," Eddie admitted, "I-I was with Chrissy the whole - "
Robin's eyes rolled and she stood abruptly, making Eddie take a step back. "Forgive me while I go vomit," Robin deadpanned, casting a single glare over his shoulder to the strawberry blonde before pushing past them both.
Eddie asked Hellfire what he'd done - but none of them had an answer. "She's not been looking well," Dustin mentioned. "Keeps coughing out blood."
"What?" Eddie asked, rigid with fear.
Dustin nodded slowly, "I don't think she knows I know, but Steve gave her a ride with us, and her tissues are all bloody."
"She's coughing out blood?" Gareth asked sadly, Dustin nodding. "That's not good, we should get her to a hospital."
"She won't go," Dustin frowned. "I heard Robin trying to convince her, but she keeps saying she's fine."
"She's not fine," Eddie growled.
"Obviously," Lucas rolled his eyes. "She's also not sat with us for weeks."
"She's been avoiding everyone," Jeff added sadly.
"Wonder why," Lucas sneered, casting a glare at his Dungeon Master.
"Am I supposed to know what you're insinuating, Sinclair?" Eddie snipped.
"Aren't you her best friend? Shouldn't you know that she's sick - instead of hearing it from Dustin?"
Eddie shrugged, "So, what? I haven't been able to track her every move. I've been busy - "
"With Chrissy," Dustin and Lucas chimed together; Lucas rolling his eyes before stabbing a green bean forcefully.
"We know," the Freshman 'all-star' basketball player rolled his eyes, pushing his tray away and glaring to the tabletop.
"What did I do?" Eddie asked, looking to his comrades with earnest confusion.
None of them answered because nobody knew what was really wrong. All your friends (including outside of Hellfire) felt concern fester because you were never forthcoming with problems. You never asked for help - it was something observed by others before they're offering you a hand. So, if you were going through something, they knew you'd handle it alone until you couldn't anymore and would confide in them.
Eddie grew increasingly frustrated as time went. For you, time was slower than ever, and you were forced to live through each painful retch and convulsion of your muscles. You laid in bed; a bloody projectile pattern splattered across your sheets; dotted with sticky, pretty petals.
The night of prom rolled around, and you were knelt in front of your toilet again. It had gotten worse; Dustin phoning you every day to update you on school, and unconsciously complaining about how much time Eddie and Chrissy were spending - causing a riff in the group. You tried to assure the Freshman that it was a new and exciting relationship for them both, but Dustin voiced his concerns after spying Chrissy speaking with her ex, Jason Carver.
The vomiting got worse after Dusty's phone call. Acid burned your nose and your throat wept for relief; finding only more pain as the toilet bowl before you decorated with not just your blood, but actual buds of flowers. You knew naturally that cherry blossoms didn't have thorns, but there, before you, were floating pieces of your flesh that was cut from the sharp floral.
You sobbed the whole night. Your chest was ready to cave in and the vomiting, nor pain, wouldn't stop. You wondered if this was how it ended for you - alone, on prom night, coughing out blood while the rest of the town got their romantic night.
Fuckers, you thought bitterly.
But then - the weirdest fucking thing happened. Amid vomiting more buds and thorns, your chest started to feel a little clearer and you could cough the rattling wetness from your lungs. There was just slight relief, but enough for you to draw in harsh breaths. You panted and spat out another bloom, trying to ignore how oddly poetically beautiful this was - to die by a fucking flower strangling you. Your body was thinner in the weeks since your turmoil started, throat too raw to pass any food as your lungs were stuffed with petals. It made living harder.
It made getting out of bed physically impossible.
It made your feet numb.
Your chest to ache.
Your head to throb.
And your stomach to knot itself.
Sweat pooled over your brow and your hand rose to wipe at your nose, smearing blood over your cheek. More vomiting. More pain. More petals and blooms and thorns and blood.
It felt like it'd never end but that was the most justice you had - that this would kill you because you couldn't let go of the love you had for Edward Munson. Love that would last a lifetime - or until it killed you.
Seemed like a fate closer than graduation.
You were startled when knuckles began rapping on your window as another violent purge overtook you. Shaking and sobbing, you ignored whoever had climbed up to your window because you were so focused on keeping your hair back as you purged.
The rapping turned into full-on pounding; the glass pane shaking.
The blossoms were bigger now. Thicker. Small, wee little stems on them that only added to your pain. Petals were left behind on your tongue and sticking to your cheeks; throat bleeding into your stomach from the way thorns shredded it up and down.
"Hey, hey, hey, sweetheart," you recognized Eddie's voice over the sounds of your retching. "Oh, my God, my sweet girl. Shit, you're okay, you're okay, I got you," he assured quietly, taking your hair in his hands to hold back as another wave racked through your body. "You're okay, let it out," he soothed, sitting on the lip of the bathtub, and rubbing your back.
You sniffled and spat the remaining petals from your mouth, using your arms to cover the toilet bowl and block his sight. "W-What're you doing here?" You asked through a thick tongue.
"Your window was open, I let myself in." He reached out for the toilet paper and pulled a bit off, gingerly reaching up and wiping the blood from your lips. "A-Are those petals?" He asked in shock, looking at the toilet tissue.
"Why're you here, Eddie?" You asked again, turning to close the toilet lid and rest your head on it. The cool porcelain felt nice on your feverish skin.
"Where else would I want to be?"
You scoffed, "Just fuck off back to Chrissy, I know that's where you want to be."
It was quiet as sweat dried on your skin and created a new cooling sensation across your tired muscles. "Why're you throwing up blood and petals?"
"Why are you here?" You snapped, lifting your head to glare at him. "If I wanted you around, I would've called."
"Haven't called me in weeks."
"Then maybe I don't want you around. Just go - get out," you grit, turning away from him again. "This is hard enough without you fucking here. Get out."
It was quiet as Eddie didn't move, your chest rattling with every labored breath to make it sound like a wheeze. It caused a new wave of violent coughing, Eddie's eyes widening when you appeared to choke on something in your throat, toilet lid lifted as your fingers crammed in the back of your throat.
From this position, Eddie could make out the blood and blooms floating in the water, flinching when you threw up blood - a sight he'd never wanted to see again. Thorns cut your mouth and lips, making you whimper in sheer pain as your chest was ready to cave in finally. Sweat coated your skin again, and Eddie refused to leave your side. He watched you as your body shook with each retch; how the color of blood stained your lips like expensive make-up.
When you panted and threw yourself back to the wall behind you, Eddie reached out and started to wipe blood from your nose, mouth, chin, and cheeks.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked.
"Tell you what?" You wheezed.
"That you were sick."
You scoffed, "Would it have mattered? You're too busy with Chrissy."
He shook his head, "We broke up."
Now this - this shocked you. Your brows furrowed, "It's prom night."
"Mhm."
"All you wanted was to go to that stupid fucking dance with her," you pointed out with a glare.
Eddie nodded, "I thought so, too. Until we got there, and I realized that I was with the wrong girl... I thought I wanted to be with her, she was unobtainable and has been my crush for years..."
"Guessing the real thing didn't compare with your imagination?" You sneered, rolling your eyes. "Big fucking deal, Eddie - "
"No, no, I uh... I just, we got there, and I wanted it to be you."
Something in your chest twisted.
"That's not funny," your eyes rolled again.
"I'm not joking. I wanted to be with you all night - hell, every day of the past few weeks that you've been avoiding me, I just wanted to be with you. Why did you pull away from me? Was it that shitty to see me and Chris together?"
You admitted, "Yes."
"What?"
You chuckled dryly, "It doesn't matter."
"It matters to me."
"Why?"
"Because I love you."
And there it was... "Yeah," You whispered, "love me like a best friend, right - " Only, the words were gargled as you leaned forward and puked violently.
"No, sweetheart," Eddie frowned, holding your hair again. "Shit, this isn't good, baby, we need to get you to a hospital."
"No," You groaned into the bowl.
"Please," he begged, other hand coming to soothe up and down your back. "You're in pain, and - "
"It doesn't matter, Eddie," you coughed again, sticking your tongue out to pick a few petals off. They fell to the water, a sightly morbidly beautiful image as thick blood swirled.
"It does matter! To me, it does!"
"Why!?"
"Because - Jesus Christ!" He raged, anger finally morphing over his expression. "I'm in love with you, God damn it!"
Your brows furrowed, bottom lip trembling, "W-What?"
He shook his head, "You really don't know?"
"Know WHAT?" You felt anger swell in your stomach. "That I've spent the past however many years thinking I was only good enough to be your friend, and now you're telling me you're in love with me? What? Did Chrissy stand you up? You need a rebound?"
He sighed, nudging you over an inch to slide down the wall into the space between you and the bathtub. You both stared forward, a light splattering of blood across the pale porcelain you stared at.
"I was the one who left her," he admitted with a sigh. "I just... We got to the first dance, and I just hated myself, because all I wanted - for the last few weeks, too - has been to have you in my arms, again. I've missed you more than anything."
You shook your head, "You've wanted Chrissy - "
"She was a want, doll," he whispered. "But I realized tonight that you're a need. I need you in my life, baby, please believe me. Look, I-I got caught up in the excitement of dating Chrissy, but she knew my heart wasn't 100% in it, and told me it was okay."
"Ch-Chrissy told you to leave?"
"She told me to run to you and not let go when I had you in my arms," he nodded, looking down at me now. "She knew the whole time... I couldn't stand being away from you, not talking to you, so she offered to help distract me until I bucked up the nerve."
"Nerve to what?"
"Ask you to be mine," he smiled softly. "Look, I know, I've had this thing for Chris, and when I finally had her, I just didn't know what to do. But she knew the whole time, and insisted I come find you."
"Oh," you breathed, chest tight for a new reason.
"And I realized I was at prom with the wrong woman," he nodded, gingerly reaching his hand out to stroke over mine. I sniffled and turned my hand over to lace our fingers together, leaning into his shoulder. "Not seeing you there, I felt worse than ever before. I couldn't admit I was in love with you - I was scared we'd lose this. Our friendship, we'd lose the comfort and protection."
Tears swelled in your eyes as you squeezed them shut; a few tears rolling sadly down your cheeks. "You don't mean that..."
"How can you say that?" He asked incredulously.
"Because you just feel bad," you whimpered. "It's okay, Eddie. I'm okay - you don't have to do this. It doesn't matter - "
"Anything regarding you, to me, definitely matters. Why're you so against this - against us?"
"Because it's not real," you sniffled. "You've been in love with - "
"Please, please, go ask Chrissy yourself," Eddie begged, shaking his head. "She'll tell you - go ask Dustin, Garth, Jeff - anyone, baby. Please. I'm in love with you, and I need you to believe it."
"Why now?"
"Why what?"
"Why tell me now?"
He chuckled, "Because I hoped there was enough time to get here and take the girl of my dreams to prom."
"You don't even like prom. Or any social gathering, for that matter."
He chuckled, "Yeah, very true, but you're everything to me and I know you wanted to go. Remember last year?" You sighed, soft smile stretching across your face. "You were so excited that I made you that pact that if neither of us had a date, we'd go together." You nodded against his shoulder. "And I just thought... I thought other guys wanted to take you, and you'd want to go with them more sine they could give you the full 'prom experience'. So, I panicked and focused on Chrissy..."
You sighed, "I wish you told me the truth... And that you'd have just asked me properly."
"I regret nothing more," he sighed. "Because it made you feel left out and neglected."
You nodded, "Eddie?"
"Yeah, peaches?"
The old nickname from 10th grade made heat pool in your chest, cheeks, and ears; feeling flustered as you whispered, "I'm in love with you, too."
"Yeah?" He chuckled.
"Mhm."
He sighed, "Oh, thank God."
You couldn't help but chuckle lightly, "What?"
He looked down at you with a grin, "Been waiting years to hear that."
"Oh, is that so?"
"Since I decked Carver in the face, yeah," he breathed. "Just wanted to pull you into my arms and tell you how much I loved you."
"Maybe if you did, we could've had more time together."
"We have all the time in the world now, baby," he beamed. "'Cause I'm not letting you go - hear me? You're mine, and I'm not letting go."
You smiled and leaned up so you could rest your forehead on his, "I don't want you to let go."
"I'll hold on forever, baby," he whispered. "But I have something important to ask you..."
"Hmm?"
"Think you're feeling up for a dance with me?"
You chuckled and nodded, "Uh, maybe one. Do we have to go to the school?"
"Nope, not if you don't want to."
You paused for a moment, asking shyly, "Eddie?"
"Yeah, peaches?"
"Would you go to prom with me?"
Eddie chuckled, "You're throwing up blood, baby, I think I should take you to the hospital instead. C'mon, instead of a prom dress, I'll dance with you in a hospital gown."
You couldn't help but giggle under your breath. "Come with me, I need to show you something," you sighed after, reaching forward to flush the blood and petals before standing up. With his hand in yours, you lead him from the bathroom and to your room, sitting on the bed and placing a book in his lap.
"What am I looking at?"
"Just... Read this page," you pointed to the paragraph you wanted him to read; taking the spot beside him and leaning to his shoulder again as he scanned the page quickly.
"Holy shit," he breathed at the end, looking up at you with tears in his eyes. "Doll, no, no, no. I-I did this to you?"
"I did it to myself," you whispered.
"B-But I've been in love with you, too? So, how did this happen?"
"Neither of us admitted it to ourselves. At least for me, it was until the night you told me you were thinking of asking Chrissy out."
"For me, it was until tonight," he realized with a whisper. "I-I told Chrissy I loved you, an-and it was the first time I admitted it..."
You nodded, "Yeah... So, uh... Yeah."
"Fuck," he shook his head. "I'm so sorry, I-I didn't know it hurt you this bad. Jesus Christ, sweetheart, you didn't deserve that. I'm so sorry."
"But it's over now, right?" you asked quietly.
"Yeah, baby, it's all over," he nodded, tossing the library book aside to turn and wrap you in his arms. He whined lightly and tugged so you were straddled in his lap, running a hand through your hair. "Oh, my sweet girl, I'm so sorry. I can't imagine the pain."
"You're here now," You whispered into his neck, fingers twirling a strand of his hair as your other hand clung to his neck. "That's all I care about."
"I'm never leaving you again," he swore, arms tight around my waist to drag me all the closer. "I'm so sorry, peaches, I-I didn't mean to hurt you."
"It's okay," you promised, sniffling after. "I could've spoken up, too, but I was ashamed. I didn't want to ruin anything between you and Chrissy."
"Promise me, you'll tell me from now on. Okay? I don't care what's happening or where you and I stand - you fucking tell me if something's going on with you, okay?"
You nodded, sniffling lightly, "Yeah, okay, baby, deal."
"Hey," he cooed, pulling me from his neck. His hand reached up to caress the side of my cheek, "I love you, pretty girl."
The smile on your lips felt silly, but you replied, "I love you, too, baby."
"Can I kiss you? Please?" He pouted, making you chuckle lightly before reaching for his cheek and bringing him in to meet your lips. He groaned in relief, hands tightly over your ribs before sliding to your back as his tongue poked against your lips, sweeping into your mouth in a slick dance. You whined lightly, Eddie making a noise of surprise as he pulled back, a string of saliva trailing between your lips.
Your brows furrowed as he reached up and picked something from his tongue; a light pink cherry blossom petal stuck between his pointer and thumb. "Oh, my God," you wheezed, leaning forward to rest against his chest and push your face into his neck. "I'm so sorry."
He chuckled and let the petal flutter to the ground, "Kinda hot."
"Eddie," you whined.
"I'm sorry, baby," he chuckled, pecking the side of my head. "Are you feeling better?"
"Mhm, much better now, honestly. Having you here helps."
He pulled back to grin brightly at you, "Wanna go to prom then?"
You sighed lightly, gazing down at him in his suit and smiling lightly when you pressed over his red shirt. "Did you match Chrissy?"
He sighed, "She ended up choosing a green dress. Thought red was more my color," he smirked lightly. "But I can't lie, we looked like human Christmas."
You snorted in humor. "Red's definitely your color," you agreed, glancing back at your closet before back at him. "Um, wanna give me a few minutes? We can leave after?"
"Take as much time as you need, peaches," he nodded, leaning in with another smile to press his lips to your own. He chuckled a few times, pecking his lips rapidly before pulling away.
Within an hour, your hair was fixed off your neck; make-up minimal but still noticeable; and red dress shimmied up your body to then tie over your shoulders. Lacing your shoes on, you looked in the mirror before exiting your room and descending the stairs to find Eddie hunched over a counter, working in the kitchen on something.
You cleared your throat as your fingers fiddled together nervously when Eddie turned, and you swear time stopped. "Shit," he breathed, eyes weeping you up and down. "Oh, my... God."
"Yeah?" you asked, looking over the red material.
"Oh, hell yeah," he nodded, slowly approaching you. "You look beautiful, peaches, wow... Shit."
"You've said that," you teased. "Whatcha makin' over there?"
He smirked and picked up a flower from the counter, turning and taking your wrist. "My girl needs a corsage," he explained, showing off the flower he'd clipped from an old bouquet and then fashioned with a rubber band and safety pin. "There," he smiled when it was settled, "now you're ready for senior prom, huh?"
You nodded, hands placed to his chest as you smoothed out a few wrinkles, "You look unbelievably good right now."
He chuckled, "Look who's talkin'. Givin' Bo Derek a run for her money, aren't you? God damn."
You couldn't help the bright grin across your face, stepping into his embrace. "I love you," you whispered.
"I don't think I'll get tired to hearing that," he beamed, pecking your lips after. "I love you, too, baby - so much. And I'm so sorry it took me this long to admit it. You didn't deserve anything you suffered through..."
"It's done now," you nodded.
"And we're never going back," his hands rose to caress either of my cheeks. "Now - wanna go rock this prom?"
"Smoke up your van after?"
"You know it, princess," he grinned, pressing another kiss to your lips. "My lady," he smirked teasingly, offering his bent arm.
"My lord," you breathed, arm around his, and chest feeling lighter than it had in weeks months. Maybe things would be okay and they could work out, but for now, it was refreshing to live in the moment with Eddie. Your partner in crime. Your other half. Your best friend, and now your boyfriend. Someone you adored - and someone who adored you in full return.
Maybe love wasn't too bad after all - when it's not trying to suffocate you from the inside.
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hoes4hoseok · 4 months
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enhypen as midnights
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txt version ☆ folklore version ☆ masterlist
it feels like it's been ages (because it's been nearly NINE MONTHS) since i've done an enhypen x taylor post but here it is! i feel kind of nervous posting this but whatever, i just gotta hit the button at some point.
sunghoon as snow on the beach
"you wanting me tonight feels impossible, but it's coming down, no sound, it's all around, like snow on the beach"
falling for sunghoon would feel so tragic at first because you'd think there's just no way he likes you back?? 😭
&& it'd consume a lot of your time just thinking about what it would be like if it did
so when you'd realize that he does when he finally tells you?? it'd feel magical
&&, not to be extremely literal, but a kiss on a snowy beach with sunghoon?? that WOULD be magical
initially, i considered having sunghoon being maroon instead of this song, so tell me what you think!
jay as midnight rain
"he was sunshine, i was midnight rain"
jay is ambitious. so for the record, i'm not saying that he isn't.
however, if you were dating him while he was already successful (aka now) & you weren't where you wanted to be, i think it'd naturally cause a rift like this song describes
&& sometimes, you'd look back & think about the life you would've had together
but ultimately, it may be for the best that you broke up because you wouldn't have been able to pursue your dreams together
(i do not wish this fate on any of you.)
ni-ki as question...?
"i don't remember who i was before you painted all my nights a color i've searched for since"
seeing ni-ki after you broke up would f with your head
not because he did anything on purpose, but because it would be really freaking hard to see him and think about him being with someone else
&& you'd hope that no one compares to what you & him had for him, because that's how you feel
but in reality, you'll never know
&& eventually, hopefully you'd move on. or run back to him? there's no moral of the story here.
sunoo as karma
"karma's a relaxing thought, aren't you envious that for you it's not?"
this song focuses on good things karma has brought to him rather than bad things it’s brought others
&& i think that’s a mindset sunoo would/does share
sunoo minds his business & good things come to him (in this case, you! you're the good thing that came to him!)
it’s been happening since i-land era we KNOW 👏(idc he was popular for a reason)
jungwon as sweet nothing
"outside, they're push & shoving, you're in the kitchen humming, all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing"
is anyone surprised by my choices for jungwon anymore? because these are so predictable i swear LMFAO
so i chose this song because jungwon seems like the type to not hold you to the same high standards that everyone else does
&& you'd be able to do the same for him, especially since he probably feels a lot of responsibility as the leader of the group
he'd give you that feeling of it not mattering what everyone else thinks because you have each other 🤧
heeseung as paris
"romance is not dead if you keep it just yours"
having a private relationship with heeseung is probably in the top 10 most romantic things ever 🫶🏽
so romantic that it feels like everything else fades away when you’re together & you’re somewhere else 😭
&& you wouldn’t have to put a ton of work into keeping that up because yeah, sometimes the relationship doesn’t feel like paris
&& that’s okay. it’s worth it for the good times :)
jake as glitch
"a brief interruption, a slight malfunction, i'd go back to wanting dudes who give nothing"
falling for jake when you're used to people who treat you like trash would feel so unreal
because that man would be such a good boyfriend <3
&& when that happens you'd kind of second guess whether you deserve to be treated that well
&& it would feel like something that isn't supposed to happen & you'd suspect that you'll return to the pattern of trash guys "after him"
but you deserve him & you deserve to be happy,, & he'd make that very clear to you in his actions and words
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txt version ☆ folklore version ☆ masterlist
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c1garettesduringsex · 4 months
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𝘚𝘔𝘖𝘒𝘌 𝘚𝘐𝘎𝘕𝘈𝘓𝘚 | 𝘙.𝘓
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𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘶𝘴 𝘓𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘯 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖱𝖾𝗆𝗎𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝗈𝗇, 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋. (𝖣𝗋𝗎𝗀 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗎?)
𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨: 18+ Drug mentions, Remus and reader sell and do drugs, weed, mentions of death, smoking, flirting? Tattoos, readers silly billy.
A/N: Remus lupin is hot.
The Pub was full of people, laughing, drinking. Remus and his friends were celebrating the pregnancy of Lily Evans and James potter.
but everything seemed to be in slow motion, all his friends were married, had a Partner, or pregnant. but not Remus. no, he didn’t have anything of the sort. so instead Remus went out to get some fresh air…when he found you.
in the alleyway of the bar.
you looked like some sort of god from the heavens. hair loosely resting on your shoulder, outfit that hugged in all the right ways. the smoke exhaling out of your mouth, blowing in his direction. it didn’t smell like a normal cigarette, no it was weed you were smoking.
you didn’t see him yet. too busy looking at your arm?
“Hey…” You said, now looking his way. “Hey, Dove” Against his own judgment he walked closer to you. now standing side by side, picking the joint out of your mouth. you wave it in his direction.
“What if i was a cop? or a narc?” he grinned, taking the joint. and sucking it until it lit up red with fire. you only rolled your eyes, mirroring his smirk. “I know who you are, Some of my friends buy from you.” your friends? why didn’t they buy from you then?…
“I…i have a rule with selling to friends and family,” he understood, probably more than you’d ever know.
“Yeah, i understand that rule.” The night was silent as he watched you crouched down, balanced on your knees. “Celebrating?” You smirk, standing tall. “Something like that…my best-friends are having a baby.” Just thinking about it brought a smile to his face.
“congratulations on them.” Smirking, you look at your arm again. “What’s with the glances are your arm?” He questions, stepping on the fished joint. “Nothing really, visualizing my next tattoo” tattoo?
“Any ideas?” Remus ponders, slipping up his sleeves. Revealing his own tattoos littering on his forearms. “Maybe…a wolf? I quite like the folklore behind them.” You trace the part of your arm where the ink would be. “they have folklore? You mean symbolic?” He would tell you why his friends call him moony, as his spirit animal is definitely a werewolf.
he doesn’t want to ruin the vibe you both so clearly have going on.
“they symbolize the struggle between good and evil, werewolves are technically anti-hero’s…so” you shrug, tucking your hands into your chest. “Hm I’m sure if they were real they would be”
“they actually are real…I am one, but don’t tell anyone or else” you jokingly threaten, bringing your lip to your lips in a ‘shhh’ manner.
“As long as you don’t tell anyone I am” Remus plays along, staring off into the distance. “Almost a full moon, better get going..” your red lips move into a soft smile while you talk.
“See you whenever your here next..” you wave goodbye, heading back inside to presumably go home. And Remus can’t help but imagine what your tattoo will exactly look like.
he wonders if maybe the full moon carries good luck.
Days go by, Remus shows up everyday to see if you appear. But alas you don’t, not for four long painful days, and boy was it worth the wait.
your black dress clings to your figure, hair loosely around your shoulders. As you tip the drink into your mouth, he notices the cling wrap on your left arm. It also doesn’t take long for you to spot him.
“Remus, hey!” Remus only tilts his head up for a second then goes back to your arm. In red ink is the outline of a wolf, then in black ink is the shape outline of a woman he assumes is supposed to be you inside of it.
“that’s amazing…why the left arm?” the brunette says, “ Left hand is symbolically unlucky…but the tattoo is gorgeous!” You seem over the moon with joy at your new addition to your body. “Like someone else I know.” He lets slip in the casual Conversation, although your reaction was worth it.
blushing mess in front of him, almost as red as the ink on your arm.
“that was bad.” You say blankly. “You liked it.” He retorted.
yes you did.
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doctorho · 5 months
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Holy Darkness, pt. 1
hello! my peeps! what's up!!!
it's here! the vampire au! i have no idea how long i'm gonna make this thing, we'll see where the Vibes take us.
this is going to be vampire!Viktor x gender neutral reader multichapter fic
2,3k words, no warnings. i mean, general spooky vibes, but we all know he isn't actually evil okay. i mean the reader doesn't know that. yet. but we know that. right?
(some backstory for this fic idea here and here)
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I mean. It’s not like you meant to trespass on the property of the nocturnal hermit living in a rundown abandoned library.
Or maybe you did. A little bit. But that’s not the point. 
The point is that you’re there now, in the quiet darkness, surrounded by the scent of wet leaves and heavy silence; the kind that drips down the back of your neck and tingles as it curls around your spine. 
It had been a perfectly ordinary night, so far. You’d closed up the small bookshop you worked at, quietly getting everything ready for the next day, swept the floors, just like you always did. You’d eaten dinner alone in your small quiet apartment, just like you always did. You’d put out some food for the too-thin stray cat that hung around your street, and wished, bone-deep, that something in your small quiet life would change.
Just like you always did.
It wasn’t bad, your life. It was actually pretty good, considering. But it was boring. Stagnant. And you just…wanted something more. The town was small and quiet and nothing much ever happened – the most exciting event of your week was usually the gossip you overheard at the weekly book club meetings, which didn’t exactly make you feel better about your own life. A good percentage of the elderly ladies in the book club (or their neighbors) seemed to lead more exciting lives than you did. 
You shouldn’t compare yourself to others, you knew that. But your life was boring, and you spent your days surrounded by books; epic adventures, romances that made your heart melt, countless stories where someone gets thrown into a land straight out of your imagination, fantasies where there’s a whole other world just a breath away from this one– 
It made your own life seem even more boring in comparison. 
And it didn’t exactly help that the only thing this town had going for itself – besides the book club – was that there was an abandoned library that was, allegedly, inhabited by a hermit, who – allegedly – might have been a vampire. 
You weren’t sure how much of that story was true. Yes, there was the abandoned library, condemned to be closed down years ago after some unfortunate water damage and lack of funding to rebuild it. Yes, there seemed to be someone living in there. Sometimes you saw lights on in the windows, things that had moved around as if on their own. Someone seemed to be taking care of the property, too, at least to some extent. 
Yes, no-one ever really saw this person out during daylight hours. 
All anyone knew was that 1) there seemed to be someone living there, 2) the collective guess was that it was a man, probably pretty young, and definitely a loner.
And at some point the collective understanding had also accepted that this man was, allegedly, a vampire.
You weren’t sure you believed that last part. Vampires were, technically, not recognized by science. You’d never met one, that you knew of. But…they were a stable factor in local folklore, and all those stories had to come from somewhere. Right?
And…the longer you stood there, watching the dark building and the dim golden light pouring out from the windows, the more you started to entertain the thought that maybe vampires existed, and maybe this man was one of them. 
He seemed to lead an unusual life, and yeah, maybe he was just a hermit, but…for some reason you couldn’t quite convince yourself of that. No-one just appears out of nowhere and sets up camp in an abandoned building, never to be seen in daylight again.
You’d seen his shadow in the window a few times, passing by. You couldn’t see much of his features, but he was lean, like people had said. You stayed hidden the best you could – this was the first time you’d gotten this close – and just…tried to win this internal fight with yourself about whether you should turn around and go home right now or just get a little bit closer. Just stay a little bit longer. 
(You weren’t sure which side of your brain you were hoping would win).
You knew it was stupid, being there. 
You didn’t know how dangerous this man was, vampire or not. For all you knew he could have been 100% human and still been a murderer or something. 
But you were curious. 
That’s all it boiled down to. 
You didn’t want anything from this man. You just wanted to know. Who he was, what he was doing in there–
and if vampires really existed. 
Maybe you should be blaming all those fantasy books in your shop, but – dammit – you wanted to know if something more than this boring human existence really was out there. It was like an itching in your bones; you wanted to know. Your soul refused to settle, and it got more and more restless the longer you went on with your normal little life.
Besides, the man lived in a library. You had no idea how many books were in there that no-one in this town even remembered anymore. 
You wanted to know. 
That’s what makes you stay. Even when half your brain and most of your blood was constantly telling you that you should go, leave, now. 
You don’t really even have a plan. It’s not like you’re going to just knock and go up to him and say hey, I was wondering, what’s your deal? 
Yeah. You weren’t going to do that. 
What you were planning on doing was just…sort of circling that idea, the possibility of maybe running into him. Walking just on the edge of the property, telling yourself it’s not on purpose. Stopping to see if there’s a light in the windows tonight. That’s it.
It’s not like you were planning on actually going to talk to him. 
So when he’s suddenly standing in front of you, you don’t know what to say. Or do.
He is standing there, all sharp-edged in the shadows, dark and tall and silent, and looking at you with the most intense eyes you’ve ever seen. 
There’s a moment, when you’re just staring at him, where you feel like your heart beats a hollow beat and everything in the night is silent. The shadows seem to twirl around him, though that was probably just your imagination. Probably.
“Is there a reason you’re lingering in the shadows out here?” He asks, his voice a quiet, captivating drawl. 
He seems calm, the kind of stationary bottom-of-the-sea calm that you’d only seen in very intelligent animals before. 
(You try to quiet the part of your brain that tries to substitute ‘animals’ with ‘predators’, and you try your best to keep your breathing even. It takes more effort than it should).
His eyes were golden, deep golden, and that definitely wasn’t usual for…humans. 
And there was something about his features that made you instantly accept that if vampires existed, and this man was one, you wouldn’t be the least bit surprised. 
“No,” you answer, and the word is so light that it feels like a lie as soon as it leaves your lips.
You’re not sure what kind of vampiric powers this man might have, but you’re suddenly worried that he might be able to hear your heartbeat, which was definitely way faster than it should have been. 
“Hm.” He says, still looking at you, as if he was studying you.
You both pretend that he isn’t the reason you’re there. Or, you pretend he isn’t, and he pretends he doesn’t know that. 
You take a deep breath.
“What are the chances you would just go back inside and forget I was ever here?” You ask, trying to sound like you weren’t worried about what the alternative to that might be.
“Very low,” he answers, straight-forward, and then he tilts his head slightly and his eyes trail over you. 
He was still studying you.
“I don’t get many…visitors.” He says, and then he smiles. It’s a small, knowing, stupidly attractive smile, and, god, yeah, the man definitely has small fangs. Christ. Was it like a feature that vampires were attractive to like, lure you in? Was that a thing they did? 
He couldn't read your thoughts, could he?
“So it is not likely that I’ll forget you were ever here, no.” He continues, “but if you want me to, I will go back inside.” He meets your eyes, “if you tell me why you’re really here.”
You swallow. 
Fine, that was reasonable. You were on his property. 
Well. Technically it was still probably the town’s property. But still. In essence it was his now. 
You take a deep breath and try to silence the annoyingly rattling part of your monkey-brain that was still tugging at you to run away, be smart, please-  
The longer you dissect this situation in your brain though, the clearer it becomes. 
Yes, you were currently in a dark secluded space with a stranger. Who might be a vampire.
But…he hadn’t actually done anything to scare you, had he?
He hadn’t threatened you. 
He seemed quite reasonable, actually. 
And if he wanted to hurt you, he could have done that already. Many times over.
But instead, he was out here. Making civil conversation.
Did you really even want him to go back inside?
Wasn’t this why you were here? To find out more about him? 
You swallow, lick your lips, and then meet his eyes. Take a breath. 
“I was curious.”
“About?” He counters, watching you, tilting his head, as if he didn’t already know. 
You furrow your eyes a little bit. Just look at him for a few seconds. He just waits for you to answer, patiently. 
“You.” You finally answer. Hold his gaze.
“Ah.” He says, then nods slowly and smiles again, faintly. “Me.” 
Then, he looks at you again, now with something more purposeful in his eyes. More…interested. “Why?”
You blink. Go through a quick mental check of what your choices were here; you could lie – and say what?
Or you could tell the truth, and see where it took you. 
And – honestly? You were still curious. 
So you shrug with one shoulder, trying your best to seem casual about it. Pretend your heart wasn’t still pounding. 
“I was curious,” You answer, “about the mysterious stranger living in the abandoned library.”
He looks at you. Studies you. Nods slowly. 
"Hm." he says again. "Well, here I am." 
You take a deep breath. 
He shifts his weight. 
"What would you like to know?" He asks, remarkably casually. Like an offering. Or, possibly, a bait.
You take it, whichever one it was.
One way to find out.
"Who are you?" 
You start with the obvious, though you're not really sure what kind of an answer you're hoping for. 
"My name is Viktor." He says, simply, still with the ghost of a smile on his face. 
Nice. A name. Progress. 
Viktor.
That still didn't tell you much about what he was really doing here, but it was a start. 
You offer your own name in return, hoping not to seem rude. Not that he'd do much with your name; it wasn't very likely that you two would become pen pals or something. 
"And you've just…been living in our rundown library?" 
"Yes," he answers, shifting his weight a bit again, and again, looking at you like he was inspecting you. Waiting for something.
"Why?" 
He tilts his head a little. "That is," he says, "not a one-word answer." 
"Most answers aren't." You answer, before you can really think it through. This whole situation was absurd; were you really out here just… having a casual conversation with this cryptid of a man? 
He makes a sound that is… close to a chuckle. More of an exhale, but still. You can hear it loud and clear in the quiet darkness, and that makes it feel like he’s much closer to you than he actually is. Like the small sound fills the air around you.
"That is true." He says after a moment. Then, he takes a breath. Visibly. 
So he wasn't at least entirely undead then. 
"How about we make a deal." he offers, "I'll tell you," he meets your eyes again and smiles a little, "for a price."
"And what might that be?" You ask in return, entertaining the idea, and trying your best to seem casual about it.
His smile widens. "One of those strawberry pies from the bakery, and your favorite book."
You blink. How he knew about the strawberry pies, you weren't sure, but you weren't about to question that now. The answer could have been a lot worse, so you'll take strawberry pie, sure. 
"Do I need to point out that you literally live in a library?" 
He shifts his weight again, leaning more heavily on his cane. "A library that hasn't gotten any new books in years."
You look at him. Really look at him. 
So this alleged-vampire, nocturnal cryptid hermit of a man, had just offered to tell you his life story, in exchange for a pie and a book? 
Yeah, if you were honest with yourself, you were never going to not take that deal. 
"Okay," you tell him, "my place or yours?" 
His lips quirk up a little. "Mine," he answers, "I think that's probably best." Then, he nods slowly and meets your eyes. "It's quiet and peaceful in there."
He smiles, just enough for you to get a glimpse of his teeth again, and it's the most sharp-edged-beautiful thing you've seen in a while.
Something curls around your spine in the darkness, and you're still not sure if it was a bait or an offering that you took.
You're not sure you care.
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swiftispunk · 9 months
Text
folklore - a collection of joel miller stories
this is me trying
Tumblr media
folklore series masterlist
pairing: platonic joel & ellie word count: 1.1k rating: T warnings: angst, discussions of child loss, discussions of grief and death, ig fluff summary: jackson. a flashback on a film reel sparks a memory. joel tells ellie how it feels.
A/N: don't even worry about it everything is fine here I am just living in a hell of my own creation my folklore instalments will likely be on the shorter side, but do be sure to check out all the amazing works by the other writers in this anthology - @tieronecrush @pr0ximamidnight @jksprincess10 and @beskarandblasters
You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town...
She sees it at the same time that he does.
Tight curls and a slight, tall frame. The actress looks just like her. Not the her in pictures, but the her if she'd grown old. The her if she'd seen thirty. The her if the world hadn't ended.
Sarah. Clear as day, Ellie sees the resemblance, feels Joel stiffen beside her. She considers reaching out to him; would that help or make it worse?
She doesn't get the chance because before she can even turn to face him, he's awkwardly rising from his seat and shuffling by the other moviegoers, out the darkened hall and into the cool night air.
Ellie sighs, takes a beat. Does she follow him? It's so hard to know what it is he needs - especially when some days are better than others. Some days his temper still bubbles up beneath the grief, walls of stone that push her away if she tries to get too close. His words shoot to kill when he's mad, but then, so do hers. Does she want to fight with him right now? Of course, other days, he pours his heart out to her in artless confessions that spill like blood from an open wound.
She's never sure what to expect.
Whatever awaits her, she can't let him suffer alone. He's barely gone half a minute before she's up and following after him.
She expects he'll already be trudging off towards Number 38 but is surprised to find him crumpled on the edge of the sidewalk, hunched over in a manner she knows will have him struggling to stand again. Aging knees and an aching back - Joel Miller on the ground is concerning for several reasons.
"Hey," Ellie mutters quietly. He doesn't hear. She carefully places one small hand on his shoulder - testing, cautious. "Joel."
He clues in, flinching before he realizes who's come to find him, blinking wetness out of his eyes as he looks up at her.
"Hey," he grumbles, shaking his head as if to dislodge the lump in his throat. "Sorry."
He doesn't tell her to fuck off, so she sits down beside him.
"It's okay," she says. Her hand still gently resting on his shoulder, she stares not at him but straight ahead into the dark night. "Do you...wanna talk about it?"
Joel sighs, folding inwards on himself as he wrings his hands above his knees. He never knows anymore. He does and he doesn't. Once, long before he'd got here, long before he'd found Ellie, this would be around the time he'd pour the whiskey. Sleep and forget.
Not now.
"A little bit," he confesses.
So it's one of those days.
Ellie nods. Joel sniffs. Neither of them know where to go next.
"I don't really know what to say," Ellie admits.
"Huh." It's almost a laugh. "Me neither, I guess."
It's quiet for a moment. Joel's not really...crying. His breaths are uneven and his shoulders are bowed protectively but he doesn't heave or sob or weep. Wetness pricks at his eyes but doesn't spill over. He's stuck, she realizes.
"You know, I heard...something Maria said," Ellie starts, tries. "That losing a kid is like, the worst pain...ever. She said, 'It's impossible to imagine until it happens to you.'"
A muscle tenses in Joel's jaw and his head falls into his chest.
"Yeah," he agrees tightly, speaking to the concrete. "S'about right."
Silence befalls them again but Ellie never breaks the anchoring touch she has on his arm. When he offers nothing more, she presses him lightly.
"So...what does it feel like to you?"
A pause as he ponders it. What does it feel like? He wishes he could properly articulate it, the way the wound smooths over but never fully heals, the way it aches to burst at any moment without warning. How some days he remembers her fondly and other days he burns with rage that she's gone. How the acceptance stage of grief is not so much a permanent thing as it is a sensation that comes and goes.
He sighs.
"It feels like...tryin'." It's the best he can do.
For Ellie, ever curious, it's not enough.
"What do you mean?"
He shakes his head, willing the words to come, to turn his pain into a teachable moment like he thinks he should. "Ah...I don't know. I don't know how to - "
"Joel, it's okay."
It's not.
"No, it's - I...I wanna tell ya." He does.
"But it's hard," she fills in.
"Yeah."
She doesn't press him again, just waits. If he wants to go on, he will. She sighs and her warm breath turns to vapour in the frigid air. At last, she releases his shoulder from her grasp to cross her arms over her chest, allowing him space if he needs it. Several moments pass under the glow of the burning fire in a nearby barrel, its heat just barely reaching them where they sit on the pavement.
When he breaks the silence, his voice is low, pensive but steady.
"What I mean is...it never stops," he says. "You never forget 'em. You never...let go. And I mean - that - " he nods his head back towards the place where the movie is still playing - "She doesn't even really look like her."
A fondness overtakes his features then and when he next speaks, his words ooze affection.
"Sarah was...her smile was different. Her eyes were...lighter. And bigger. Just these...big, beautiful, green eyes. Not a lot of people had green eyes. Still don't know where she got 'em from. Wasn't me."
He smiles, remembering. So does Ellie, listening.
"I just - see 'em...everywhere," he goes on, his smiling fading as quickly as it had come. "All the time. Those eyes."
His voice cuts off, choked again as emotion brews up in his chest.
"But that's a good thing, maybe," Ellie shrugs, pulling him off the ledge.
"Yeah?" he croaks and at last their eyes meet; Joel's glisten with sadness, Ellie's gleam with thought. "Why's'at?"
"I mean, what if you forgot them? Wouldn't that be worse?"
"Hm," Joel nods, soft smile tugging at his lips again. "Yeah, I guess it would be. Used to want to."
"Really?" It doesn't surprise her, really, knowing what she knows. Maybe it's the shock of the admission that gets her.
"Sure," he shrugs.
"How 'bout now?"
He catches her gaze again and they share a tender smile. This time, it's enough for her. She hoists herself off the ground with two hands on her knees, reaching out to him to help him to his feet. He grunts, bones creaking as he doggedly finds his footing.
"Wanna just go home?" she asks.
"Yeah."
END.
folklore anthology taglist -
@wannab-urs @atinylittlepain @bearsbeetsbeskar @serenaxpedro @casa-boiardi @rav3n-pascal22 @dinsdjrn @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @johnwatsn @amanitacowboy @leeeesahhh @isitmelookin4u @javiscigarette @mrsyixingunicorn10 @sugarspiceanthrax @orphanbird95 @space-cowboy-like-me @tuquoquebrute @rsquared31 @morning-star-joy @canseethebrushstrokes @atremises @sstarboy777 @undrthelights @butiknewyoudlinger @dayrdreaming @disassociation-daydreams @joelsversion @ginger-swag-rapunzel @mydailyhyperfixations @diamndx @mingiast @kdogreads @blxsphemy7 @marchai @littlevenicebitch69 @ghostofbrock @iwrotethissky @ladynightingale @sam-010902
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sophietv · 9 months
Note
Hi, I'm relatively new to the whole Gaylor/Kaylor/LSK universe so I'm sorry if this is a silly ask! But I'm curious to hear your thoughts on theory of Kaylor "breaking up" in 2019/20 which potentially caused folklore/evermore (both albums contain some very heartbreaking songs and feel influenced by the reality of Taylor's life at the time) and then the rumour of William Bowery being Karlie? I don't buy the whole Joe being WB so then it leaves me wondering if Karlie is indeed WB where does the break up fit in, if at all?
Also just wanted to say thank you so much for all the analysis posts and threads you do both on here and Twitter! Appreciate it very much!
Hi!
This is not a silly question at all!
In fact it is exactly THE Kaylor question of all.
And to answer this questions is really complex, because there's just soooo much.
I'm so sorry, because this is gonna be a VERY long answer...
About the "Breakup"
I personnally go back and forth as to know if they really broke up or not in 2019.
Either way, it was not for long. I think max a couple of weeks/months.
It's really difficult too, to point out exactly where this would have happened.
But if I have to guess, I would say that they might have broken up/taken a break, toward the month of August 2019 and most probably got back together toward Octobre/Novembre 2019.
What makes me think that?
Taylor when she explains the song Betty during the concert. When she points out where the event happened, she always say during the month of August.
The song August, from the teenage love triangle. The fact that she chose to name the song this. Betty is Karlie and James is Taylor. August is what happened that is "the worst thing that I ever did, is what I did to you".
In Septembre 2019, Taylor did the BBC1 performance and the Lover In Paris Concert. Both were really a shift in the Lover Era aesthetic and presentation. She wore all black, sung mostly accoustic versions, surprise songs and covers were break up songs and she looked devastated while doing this.
What makes me think they got back together then:
Back in Novembre, Taylor sarted flagging Karlie heavily again, and Karlie did the same. And honnestly, once you notice everything they did since then, it's really the only proof you need. (I will do, or try to do an extensive post on all the flagging that went on after the Lover Era, because there's just so much. (Hopefully I'll have time to do it tonight).
In the teenage love triangle, the most important part is that in the end, in Cardigan, James goes back to Betty and they end up together.
Betty is not the only song that Taylor did about that precise moment. Talking about "betraying" Karlie in some way. Long Story Short also talks about this. And ends up with Taylor going back to the person that she "betrayed".
In a Fearless (Taylor's Version) interview, Taylor talks about how her Vault Track songs haven't changed much since the moment she wrote them. Except for That's When, where she said that she changed it to be a duo. Because before she never experienced having doubt about a relationship and saying to the other person that she needed space and time and that the other person granted her this. She said that the other person saying that it's ok and being willing to give her time and space to figure herself out is what made her realise that she really wanted to be with that person. I think that this interview is SO important to all the LSK interpretation afterward. Here's the link to that interview:
youtube
5. Then you also have The Great War that is like the ultimate confirmation that whatever happened back in 2019 is behind them and that they are together now.
Here's a post I did about this: (X)
But yeah, I think the most important part of all this, is the flagging that they did and keep doing. It's just insane how much they both flags each other and at this point there's just too much Koincidences to pretend tha it's accidental.
About Folklore and Evermore:
You are totally right when you say that both those albums are incredibly sad with a lot of hearbreaking songs.
And it's true that at first, it's really hard to listen to them and not think that they broke up for sure.
But when you sit with them for a bit and listen to what Taylor had to say about the songs in those albums. Especially during the Long Pond Studio Session, you realise that yes those albums are incredibly sad and talk about betrayal, grief, depression etc. But the story that Folklore and Evermore tell is not a story about a breakup. And to understand that, it's important to take into consideration that during that time, Taylor was going though soooo much. More than anyone should go through in their entire life. And it was more than enough, without a breakup on top, for her to be heartbroken like she seemed to be during those eras:
Wanting to come out and not being able to.
Being accused of queerbaiting by the medias because you wanted to come out and was not able to. (It really looked at some point like going back to 2016...)
Being betrayed by someone that you thought was a parental figure.
Losing 13 years of hard work, and not being able anymore to do what you want with things that YOU made.
Having your tour cancelled.
Covid and not knowing if you'll ever be able to do what you love again.
Her mother's heath.
So yeah... this was sooo much and she showed so much resillience and strenght. But I think it was more than enough to warrant looking heartbroken like she did and writting heartbreak albums. Without on top of it all, breaking up with the love of her life (wich might have happened too during a small period of time...).
I will try really hard to not do a whole album analysis here, but just point out some things, because if I do, my post is never gonna end... (edit: I failed...kind of)
Folklore:
Betty, August and Cardigan:
Like I said before, this trio tells a story of making a mistake and breaking someone's heart while doing so. But ultimately coming back to the person.
Exile:
Taylor said that this was meant to represent a fight between two lovers that were not able to just listen to the other person. They are both trying to explain themselves but both are talking over each other and in the end are not able to find common ground.
(something like that, it's been a while since I've watched the LPSS)
And this narrative fits really well with The Great War, Long Story Short and even Betty, misscommunication that led her to believe that she was somewhat betrayed and to react accordingly.
But all those songs have also in common that the two persons end up together in the end.
Illicit Affairs:
The general concensus on this song is that it is about cheating.
But the meaning of the word Illicit Affair is actually: Not allowed by law OR CUSTOMS in a country.
So I think this song is her expressing how keeping her relationship a secret is hard and taxing on her.
But she still ends up the song saying that she would still do it a million times over for this person.
Hoax:
I think this one is the most important to listen closely to Taylor's and Aaron's explanations:
Aaron:
"There’s sadness, but it’s a kind of hopeful sadness. It’s a recognition that you take on the burden of your partners, your loved ones, and their ups and downs. That’s both “peace” and “hoax” to me That’s part of how I feel about those songs because I think that’s life. There’s a reality, the gravity or an understanding of the human condition.
Taylor:
"Love that isn't just easy"
"What if I'm writing about very fractured situations? Love, a business thing that really hurt and a relationship I considered like family" " I think the part that sounds like love to me is : "Don't want no other shade of blue but you, no other sadness in the world would do" To me that sounds like what love really IS. WHO would you be sad WITH? And WHO would you deal WITH when they were sad? Grey skies everyday for months. Would you still stay?
So Taylor is saying that Hoax is not about a breakup but about facing hard times in a relationship and being there for the other, when the person is not in a good place mentally. This ties back to This Is Me Trying too.
Peace:
Taylor explained it well in the LPSS but also in her Rolling Stone interview with Paul McCartney.
How it's about being in relationship and being scared that what you have to offer is not enough because you can't give your partner a normal life like you would like.
But she also say that she's able to achieve feeling like her life is a real life by keeping her relationship private.
She also said in that interview that while writting Folklore: "I was making Folklore, I went lyrically in a total direction of escapism and romanticism. And I wrote songs imagining I was, like, a pioneer woman in a forbidden love affair [laughs]. I was completely …"
Wich is the exact definition of their relationship since 2016.
See my Love Blackout post: (X)
I highly recommend to go read that interview, especially that part about Peace, because it's really telling. As well as the conversation they have about having children... (X)
Invisible String:
This is purely a love song.
And talks about how Taylor and Karlie had so many things tying them together even when they didn't even knew each other.
It ties back to "Your past and mine are parallel lines" from All Of The Girls.
And there's A LOT of parallel lines.
Here's a post if you are interested: (X)
The Lakes:
This one is probably the most telling song of the Album.
It talks about running away with your lover.
And in the song she says: "a red rose grew up, out of ice frozen ground with no one around to tweet it".
Red Rose signify love.
So she is singing about her struggle with how her celebrity makes everything complicated and all that she wants to do is run away... but not without her muse.
And it's really loudly about Karlie. Here's a post (X)
My Tears Ricochet:
This one to me screams about a betrayal by a parental figure.
And I feel like it's really loudly about Scott.
"'Cause when I'd fight you used to tell me I was brave"
"And when you can't sleep at night, you hear my stolen lullabies"
"Wishing I'd stay"
"And your tossing out blame, drunk on this pain, crossing out the good years"
So yeah, it really feels like her talking to Scott about him selling her masters to Scooter.
Although her explanation of the song is that it's like going through a divorce and knowing exactly what to say to the other person to hurt them badly.
But it still really feels to me, like she is talking about Scot.
About being betrayed by your boss that you thought was family.
Ok that was a looong analysis. Again sorry, my post is gonna be a whole novel...
Evermore:
Champagne Problems and Coney Island:
She is still talking about feeling like she let down Karlie by being unable to put her first. Wich can lead back to whatever happened toward August in 2019.
Long Story Short:
It's the equivalent of The Great War of Midnights or the teenage love triangle of Folklore.
Going through a though time and thinking that you have somewhat been betrayed.
Being blinded by your emotions.
And realising that you got it wrong all along.
And ending up with your lover in the end.
Willow, Ivy and Dorothea are all love songs.
Evermore:
Is reminescing on what happened in 2019 and how over time she healed from it.
And the important part is that by the end you learn that her lover was by her and helped her through it.
Closure, Hapiness and Gold Rush:
Those ones are breakup songs, and could refer to the breakup in 2019. (although the 7 years in heaven in Hapiness doesn't quite fit).
But the interesting part about Evermore is that I think it was meant to give you the impression that they were not together anymore.
It was released when Karlie was pregnant with Levi.
Furthermore, It's Time To Go and Right Where You Left Me where released in January 2021 not long before Karlie gave birth.
And those song sserved as a big distraction because it got most Swifties to really think that Karlie betrayed Taylor and that they were not friends anymore.
And most gaylors to think that Karlie really broke Taylor's heart. Wich is kind of interesting when you look at all the other breakup songs beside Right Where You Left Me, Taylor seems to always feel responsible for the breakup and hurting Karlie. Except this one. But it's also the most clear breakup song of all of them.
So yeah, I do suspect that the album and mostly the deluxe version was meant to serve as a distraction to protect them and their child, and give Taylor the opportunity to really try to give Karlie a "normal" relationship out of the public eyes like she described in Peace.
Karlie as William Bowery:
Yes I do think that Karlie is William Bowery and I did a thread on Twitter about this (X)
So yeah.... here's my very very long post about why I think Karlie and Taylor are still together and what I think of Folkmore.
Sorry for the novel 😅
Thanks for sending me your questions! I hope I was able to help you understand a little bit better.
If you haven't had enough yet of me talking about my interpretations... Here's some more posts I did about them flagging after 2019 (X) (X) (X) (X)(X)
And those two are more about the babies: (X) (X)
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its-a-me-mango · 2 months
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okay i know im late to this but like-
WEREWOLVES ARE MY FREAKING FAVOURITE CREATURES EVER???
your wolf smg4 design is so cool i wanna pet him lol
may i ask if you have some lore behind this? (if not thats ok just curious🤗)
WAAAA I'M SO GLAD!!!!!! I LOVE WEREWOLVES SO MUCH SO I'M SO HAPPY TO HAVE OTHER PEOPLE LIKE THEM TOO!!!! ;W;
Sure you can pet him! Good luck! :3
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As for his lore, I went with the more "traditional" version of werewolves. Yeah turns out a lot of modern werewolf trivia and stuff is just for movies so I wanted to be a bit more true to real folklore with him. But also it's my AU so I get to add and remove whatever I want LMAO.
I'm not a writer at all (heck I can barely read) so forgive me for rambling lol.
Basic story is that, SMG4's hat got stolen and on his chase to get it back, he found a newer, cooler hat which he (stupidly) decided to wear. To no one's surprise it was cursed and now every night he turns into The Beast™ and wreaks havoc on everything around him.
I like showing him as just a big doggy but he's actually really dangerous, 4 isn't aware or in control at all as a werewolf so he has no memory of all the destruction he's causing. At first no one around knows its him but they pick up on it before he does (4's kinda in denial because he doesn't believe in werewolves), they all try their hardest to help him out to get rid of this curse while he's busy fucking shit up every night.
I like leaving his lore open ended (mainly so I can play around with it as much as I like hehe, and also I haven't decided) but in order for him to be freed from his curse, he has to either;
Find whoever cursed the hat and get them to remove it.
Kill whoever cursed the hat in the first place.
Die.
The angst potentials are out of this world maaan. I haven't made this AU to be ship oriented but you knowwwwww, I can make it gay for the hell of it tee hee! SMG3 is the first person he tries to attack/kill so I'm sure that does well for him lol. Also he keeps the hat on all the time and can't take it off, it repairs itself when he turns back into a human because oooooo the curse.
Thank you for asking though I promise I have more stuff planned for him soon! I've got a few fake screenshot type pieces I wanna do for him when I get the chance so stay tuned! :D
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wordsarelife · 2 months
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—gold rush
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pairing: quill kipps x gn!reader
summary: loving quill kipps feels like a gold rush
warnings: none
note: SURPRISE SURPRISE!! posting three fics in a day must be a new record! you could say i'm in my active era 😇
one of his hands was gliding through his hair and it fell into place effortlessly. you almost lost your mind at it. he put the sword back into it's holder with his other hand, looking around the house to see if his help was still needed somewhere. then he noticed you and came over.
"hello, love" he smiled brightly, before he kissed you
"are you finished?"
quill nodded happily, interlacing your fingers and following you away from the scene. leaving everyone else behind.
you made your way to arif's next. sitting down in your favorite booth and odering your favorite donuts, laughing, talking.
you could feel the eyes of some of the costumers, watching you and your boyfriend lovingly. they would smile when you did and gush when he kissed your hand or made you blush.
one lady even complimented the two of you directly, after quill had left the last donut for you.
he had brought some uno cards, because it was your favorite card game and you won against him three times, while enjoying your hot chocolate.
"i love winter" quill was watching the snow fall from the window, while you were shuffling the cards for another round
"yeah?" you laughed, always excited to find out something new about him. it was amazing to have known a person for such a long time and still finding out new things about them. "but you hate the cold"
he shrugged his shoulder, taking his eyes off the window and back to you "doesn't matter. i still love winter"
"that's such a contrary belief, darling"
"i know" he smiled "that's what makes me interesting"
"you can't love and hate the cold at the same time" you giggled "that's not how it works"
"can i tell you a secret?" he motioned for you to lean forward on the table, coming closer as well and then muttering softly into your ear "i don't care"
you laughed again. the sensation of his breath tickling your neck.
"okay" you handed him his cards "guess i have to accept that"
after you had won once again, or maybe he had lost on purpose, you couldn't tell, the two of you left arif's. saying goodbye to the guests that had not stopped smiling since the two of you had arrived.
he walked you home. the snow was falling even thicker than before. you felt yourself starting to love winter as well. just because he did. just because you loved everything he did.
"what do you like most about winter?" you asked
"how quiet it gets" quill smiled, waving his hand through the air, trying to catch snowflakes. "it's almost peaceful"
you watched him lovingly. he looked like a little boy again. you wondered why everything he did and said always seemed so magical to you. almost like he was special, different to everyone you had ever met.
almost like he wasn't real. right out of a fairytale or some old folklore.
"i like snow" you said softly when he showed you one of the snowflakes he had caught, before it turned into water from the warmth of his hand.
"i like you" quill kissed your temple. "even more than i like winter"
"that seems exaggerated" you rolled your eyes
"it isn't" quill assured honestly. his eyes were shining through, standing out from the white snow all around you and you wanted to cry. "you're my favorite"
"you're my favorite, too"
he squeezed your hand, while the both of you fell into comfortable silence. you stopped in front of your house and he tilted his head, so his face met the falling snow.
"you will get ill" you reminded
he shrugged his shoulders, quickly kissing your lips
"you're so cold" you giggled, trying to escape his arms.
"but you're warm" he argued laughing at the way you were trying to get away from him without a chance.
finally, you gave up, just letting him hold you and looking into his eyes. one of his hands went into his hair again and it fell into place effortlessly.
"stop staring" you looked to your side, confused where the voice had come from. "he's gonna notice!" there it was again. "y/n!" lucy called louder now and you tore your eyes away from quill to look at her.
"huh?" you questioned. lucy was standing next to you, looking in the same direction you had a second ago. quill was busy fixing his sword and looking if he was still needed.
there was no snow around you. it wasn't even winter.
"you really have to stop doing that" lucy said serious "he's way too old for you as well"
"you're right" you smiled sadly, following her back to where george and lockwood were waiting.
your eyes fell onto quill one last time. he noticed you looking and raised his arm, waving at you while he smiled. you waved back, all while asking yourself what it must be like to grow up that beautiful.
you would never get an answer to that.
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missmeinyourbones · 2 years
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and though i can't recall your face, i still got love for you 。・:*:・゚☆
megumi fushiguro x reader | wc: 0.9k | L’s FOLKLORE event
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The last thing he wanted to do was agree to this mission. 
He tried nearly anything and everything to get out of it. Offered it up to Kugisaki (who’s been dying to get out of Japan for quite some time now), tried to fill his schedule with local tasks to feign busy, faked a head cold the day of his departing flight. Incredibly desperate, he even told Gojo he was thinking of quitting sorcery—his knowing guardian saw right through his fib, having raised him as the dedicated helper he is today. 
It was a long one, the longest one he’s been on yet. Months and miles away from his home, where he’d have to leave you alone in a space the two of you were meant to share. 
But that’s what a sorcerer does, what they have to do. Megumi knows this, and he knows that you know this, too. However, that doesn’t make the situation at hand any easier. 
He hesitantly agreed to the mission after a lot of begging and pleading, not because he knew it was the right thing to do, but because of the promise the two held yourselves to. 
One call a day, no more and no less, to make time for you—to feel together, though apart.
And if there’s one thing Megumi’s good at, it’s keeping his word. 
His hotel room is dark and eerie when he drags his feet through the threshold. He doesn’t even bother turning on the light, immediately slumping onto the rigid bed and pulling his phone from his pocket. 
When you answer after two rings with an expectant greeting, he feels his stomach churn with a feeling best described as a lovesick nausea. 
“Hi,” he swells with a familiar softness on the other end of the line.
Your voice holds him since your arms can’t, “Hi, Megumi.”
Fuck, he loves when you use his name. Something about the way your lips form around the three syllables feels better than when others idly say it—you have a way of making it feel special, like it’s more than just a simple word. 
“I miss you,” he gets right down to it. There’s no point in dancing around his feelings for you, anymore. Not like how he used to—when he was younger and less sure of himself, when he doubted all of his thoughts and wasn't sure of the color of the sky or the grass beneath the soles of his feet.
His confession instantly warms the uncharacteristically barren left side of your bed. 
“I probably miss you more,” you authentically return, before breathing out a worry of “I hope you’re being safe.”
He nods his head to himself as he lays alone in a cold hotel bed, “I am, promise.”
Silence occupies the line for a few seconds, and Megumi can hear your gentle breathing through the speaker. He closes his eyes for a moment and imagines that you’re laying next to him in bed—your body, not your voice through his tiny cellphone. 
“I haven’t seen you in so long,” you whisper, and he can hear the tired grin creeping along your face as you tease him, “almost forget what you look like.”
“The same,” he’s quick to remind you, you can hear the hidden urgency behind his slow words, “I don’t think I’ve changed a bit, actually.”
A breathy laugh comes from your end of the phone and it makes Megumi’s eyes water. God, he misses you so much. 
“Doesn’t matter,” you casually brush off his anxiety, “I’ll still love you, even if I can’t remember your face.”
He knows you’re kidding, but something about the mere thought of you forgetting him in any capacity leaves a sour taste in his mouth. 
He scoffs a bit, “Geez, thanks.” Remember it, he internally demands. Please, don’t ever forget it.
He hears some shuffling through the speaker, and he can practically see you readjusting yourself and turning onto your side—your arm being used as a makeshift pillow as your other hand mindlessly caresses the empty spot he should be occupying.
“You know m’kidding, right?”
“Yeah,” he deeply exhales, “figured.”
“I could never forget a face like yours.”
Megumi rolls his eyes instinctually, but his face flushes nonetheless. He’s grateful you can’t see him, though you practically picture his identical reaction behind your eyelids.
“Pretty blue eyes, like the sky,” your saccharine voice coos with a tease.
Megumi grumbles behind a smirk. “How cheesy of you,” he borderline oozes. 
You persist, “Your pretty smile that I’m lucky enough to see every once in a blue moon.”
“Don’t be dramatic, you see it more often than that.”
“Your pretty nose, how it tickles when it’s pressed up against my—”
“Alright, okay, that’s enough,” he interrupts out of embarrassment, palm pressed flush against his heated forehead as he closes his eyes, “I get it, you remember my face.”
“Good,” your giggles sounds melodic through the speaker, and he aches all the more to hear them in person again. Soon, he struggles to remind himself.
“Are you blushing, Megumi?” your taunting tone reaches his ears. 
He clicks his teeth as he fools no one, “Tch, no.”
“Are you lying, Megumi?”
He can’t help but grin at the way you say his name, “Maybe.”
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foxes-that-run · 3 months
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do you think Hits Different is haylor coded?
Hi, to me it is, though I think it is ambiguous as I think Taylor's feelings might have been. Aaron indicated it was an earlier song on Midnights. It was possibly written not very long after Renegade.
Timeline
Aaron mentioned it as one of the songs they wrote together, he mentioned it when saying they wrote High Infidelity in L.A. after Taylor saw Harry at the 2021 Grammy's. He mentioned The Great War also. (31 mins in Broken Record podcast)
I guess this somewhat depends on one's view of the Joever timeline and the Haylor aspects of Folklore. At that time Harry wrote As it was and LOML which are about moving on and there was a lot of reporting around OW.
Video
In this pretty unsettling short she wore an Opal, Taylor's worn Opals since 2014 including the Cardigan video and says 'Opal eyes' in Ivy.
Lyrics
I washed my hands of us at the club You made a mess of me I pictured you with other girls in love Then threw up on the street Like waiting for a bus that never shows You just start walkin' on They say that if it's right, you know Each bar plays our song Nothing has ever felt so wrong
Taylor has been a mess in:
All You Had To Do Was Stay: I’ve been picking up the pieces of the mess you made
Dancing With Our Hands Tied: I’m a mess but I’m the mess that you wanted
Illicit Affairs: Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me
Also the only other bus lyric is The 1: I thought I saw you at the bus stop, I didn’t, though.
Bars feature a lot on Reputation, so many associate them with Joe, (who she started dating after a lot of the album was recorded.) however to me most of those songs are Haylor.
Oh my, love is a lie Shit my friends say to get me by It hits different It hits different this time Catastrophic blues Movin' on was always easy for me to do It hits different It hits different 'cause it's you ('Cause it's you)
The Catastrophic blues, to me are most similar to Peace: "If your cascade ocean wave blues come." but I hear the lyric as Taylor is depressed.
'Movin' on was always easy for me to do' indicates Harry to me because, he is someone she hasn't been able to move on from because of the cyclical nature of it:
End Game "We tried to forget it, but we just couldn't" and "And I can't let you go, your handprint's on my soul"
DBATC: "Chandelier's still flickering here / 'Cause I can't pretend it's ok when it's not"
I used to switch out these Kens, I'd just ghost Rip the Band-Aid off and skip town like an asshole outlaw Freedom felt like summer then on the coast Now the sun burns my heart and the sand hurts my feelings And I never don't cry (no, I never don't cry) at the bar Yeah, my sadness is contagious (my sadness is contagious) I slur your name 'til someone puts me in a car I stopped receiving invitations
Taylor has also described Harry is irreplaceable, not a switchable Ken:
Question..?:"Cause I don't remember who I was / Before you painted all my nights / A color I've searched for since" and "Does it feel like everything's just like / Second best after that meteor strike
Ready for it: "And he can be my jailer, Burton to this Taylor / Every lover known in comparison is a failure"
Gold Rush: "And the coastal town / We wandered 'round had never / Seen a love as pure as it"
Finally the drunk, slurred name lyrics, (hard to slur Joe), and
Cruel Summer: I’m drunk in the back of the car and I cried like a baby coming home from the bar
Death By A Thousand Cuts: I get drunk but it’s not enough ‘cause the morning comes and you’re not my baby
I find the artifacts, cried over a hat Cursed the space that I needed I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' You were the one that I loved Don't need another metaphor, it's simple enough A wrinkle in time like the crease by your eyes This is why they shouldn't kill off the main guy Dreams of your hair and your stare and sense of belief In the good in the world, you once believed in me And I felt you and I held you for a while Bet I could still melt your world Argumentative, antithetical dream girl
Joe's worn a few baseball caps, though Taylor has also referenced Harry's hats before. In early interviews Niall said he wore them to hide his hair in public, so he wears them a lot. Including this green beanie in the 22 MV.
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Bleeding is a Haylor Theme
Trace the evidence / Wrinkle in time reminds me of Right where you left me, "They expected me to find somewhere / Some perspective, but I sat and stared"
Hair, Stare and Sense of belief describe Harry well:
Hair (Style: long hair, Shake it off: hella good hair, Gold Rush: Hair falling into place)
Stare (Style: daydream look in your eye, Delicate: look into your eyes, Exile: eyes add insult to injury, Gold Rush: Twinkling eyes)
Harry has a belief in the good in the world, Joe may too, we don't really know him.
Finally the Argumentative, antithetical dream girl - reminds me of Gold Rush "At dinner parties, I call you out on your contrarian shit". Harry describes Taylor in Sweet Creature "It's hard when we argue We're both stubborn, I know" Kiwi "Hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect" and Woman "I told you, but I know you never listen."
I heard your key turn in the door down the hallway Is that your key in the door? Is it okay? Is it you? Or have they come to take me away? To take me away
Finally, hallways and doors both feature a lot in Haylor songs, here the muse has a key. I guess this also depends on a perspective of the pandemic time, I don't find it a stretch to think H had a key to Taylors home. As far as I wonder if she even has a literal key anymore...
Have they come to take me away reminds me of:
Wonderland: And in the end in Wonderland, we both went mad
Say Don’t Go: The waiting is a sadness fading into madness
Don’t Blame Me: "For you I would cross the line, I would waste my time, I would lose my mind" and "Don’t blame me, love made me crazy"
I Wish You Would: This mad, mad love makes you come running
Blank Space: Magic, madness, heaven, sin
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You know what I want to see a lot more of? Cultural meshing or whatever the hell you call it. I want to see how human and na'vi culture (among other things) could be learned and respected by both sides. For so long, all the Na'vi have really experienced is the war side of humans, and though I agree that we as a species can be pieces of shit (especially to our planet, etc) I also want to see the highlighting of all of the culture and stuff we've created over the thousands of years we've existed. I want someone to continue what Grace started and could have continued to grow until it flourished if it weren't for that fateful day.
I want to see two friends, one human and one na'vi, speaking to eachother. Only the human is a language nerd/polyglot and is enthusiastically trying to find out everything they can about the Na'vi language and its various dialects while at the same time excitedly introducing their na'vi friend to words in not just English but Spanish, Greek, etc. They're so excited to be teaching their Na'vi friend English while at the same time learning Na'vi and showing them all the cool language families back on Earth. I want them to explain the concept of a dead language, how things can fade with time, how without our ancestors voices there is a constant shift generation after generation, slow but sure. ("Oh, so you guys say herwìva! That's so cool, we call them snowflakes in English. Oh, and look: in French they're called flocon de neige.")
I want to see a bright-eyed young religion/other enthusiast chatting away about Eywa and all of the Na'vi stories all the while having no problem showing their na'vi friend the absolutely ridiculous amount of books on mythology, demonology, christianity, and all that other stuff. Folklore, fairytales, you name it! ("Yeah, and then Zues banged another lady! I know, he never learns!")
I want some random tree-lover fighting for what little trees are still left on Earth to get so excited that he makes entire slideshows about all of the trees they had back on Earth and are fighting to bring back and what so many of them symbolize, etc. ("What's that? Oh, no, you can't really build a home inside a redwood tree. Uh. . . maybe a treehouse? Wait, you guys don't have treehouses? Omg we have to build one! We'll only use fallen branches, I promise! Pretty please!")
I want to see a poet or writer roll up onto Pandora with their ungodly amount of literature who loves reading to the na'vi children and teaching them how to write fun little poems, etc, all while at the same time paying close attention to the na'vi stories and writing them down, compiling them and even memorizing some of them to connect more with her students. ("I am sam, am I am, do you like green eggs and ham?" "And then the brave Entu snook up behind the might Toruk. . ."
I want games of London bridge and ring-around-the-rosie played right alongside traditional na'vi child games, young children connecting with young na'vi. ("And then you bring your arms down around him and boom! He's out!" "Ooh, what's that you're doing? I wanna try! Do all na'vi play this game?")
I want fun cooking/food classes where they alternate between learning about na'vi food culture and human food culture and they get to truly see how rich the na'vi food culture is while at the same time seeing the same thing about people on Earth. ("I promise you, ice cream is man's best fucking invention ever! And there's so many different kinds and so many different ways of making it, too! Hey, what do you guys do for dessert? Are they fruit based?")
I want trips to places like the beach where a sweet instructor brings pictures of beaches on Earth in the past and shows the others where crabs would have been or some other oceanic shit all while the na'vi instructor teaches them about Pandora's beaches. (no reason in particular for this one, I've just been wanting to go to the beach recently 🤷)
I want people who rode horses (both for equestrian sports and pleasure) to be in awe of the pa'li and to show the na'vi various different moves, games, etc, that they did on their horses via pa'li through things such as videos, pictures, all that fun stuff. ("And this right here is called puissance. You have no idea how long me and my horse had to train to make it safely over that jump!")
I want humans explaining the sheer amount of effort it takes in bonding with an animal. Months, years. And even then you can never be too sure. There is no tsaheylu, no "becoming one". We have to work hard, so hard, for every skill. Every trick. Everything. And even when all is done, there is always the chance of miscommunication. Of you making one wrong move and a horse you've known since you were four bucking you off, or your dog biting you if not trained properly. We are never one, always separate, no matter how close we get. Understanding only goes so deep, and yet we take risks day in and day out because we love our dogs and horses and any other animal we may have conflicts with.
I want humans explaining the fear. And yes, everyone feels fear (especially when colonial idiots pull up *cough* Quaritch *cough*), but for humans? It has always been a constant. There is no Eywa. Our perception of everything is completely different from a na'vi, who spends their whole life connected to their planet. We are alone in our minds, in our perception. When we die, there is only death. Our ancestors are lost in the wind. We are each left to interpret everything in the ways we know how, and we are so weak. Killed so easily. Everything is a threat. The ocean, a tree, animals, mountains, nature. Everything that gives us life takes it away, only there is no Eywa telling us that it is alright. That there is balance. For us, there is just panic and pain and fear, as we are attacked from all sides, begging for answers we'll never get. So we protect ourselves in the only ways we know how. Houses. Machines. And the fear, over time, our justification. (Not sure if what I'm trying to say made any sense at all lol.)
And I want na'vi taking this in, not forgiving us for our wrongdoings (because we have no right to ask that of them) but for them to just see us the way they claim to see so much. For them to see us and us to see them and for there to be understanding. No "demons". No "savages". Because that's not how it is. It's just two different mindsets brought on by two very different planets.
But what I want most of all?
A slushy tbh. Gonna go drive to my local 7/11 now. That's enough depression for one day.
Wow what a very emotional ask! I really love this! My favorite human things that fics tend to have Jake bring to the Omaticaya are small but meaningful I think. Curse words, photos and videos, children's games (the marking their height on the wood!!), high fives and pinky swears, flipping people off, books, and slang for sure.
In regards to most of this I think Norm is your GUY. I refuse to believe he doesn't teach his 50 million adopted children to read and write along with history and culture and biology, Earth and Pandora. The rest of the village kids TOTALLY get in on these lessons they all want to learn, they get jealous of their friends. Norm taking over and restructuring Grace's school is my FAVORITE headcanon, I love the idea that Spider joins him in lessons after he gets older if he never gets an avatar or gets Eywa blessed.
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miryum · 1 year
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The Witch and the Spirit (Newt x Reader)
Warnings: angst with happy ending, someone dies for a brief amount of time, witchyness, spells and magic, talk of death (cause, ya know, they’re ghosts), fluff
Word Count: 6.4k
I worked so hard on this fic and I hope you guys like it. It was requested (a while back,) by @the-bibliophile-public-library and here’s the summary: Reader is an eclectic witch that moves into a decrepit, Victorian Home, which is filled with spirits, while she befriends, and encounters love on the way with Newtie!!! Alongside Newt, Thomas, Minho, Teresa, Gally, Chuck, ect. are spirits that perished in the home throughout the century and have been roaming through its damp walls ever since.
“Are you sure this is the best decision?” Sonya asked, lugging a box in the house. 
“Why not?” Y/n shrugged.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Brenda said sarcastically, “maybe it’s just that this house is haunted?”
“You really believe those stories?” Y/n asked. “It’s all folklore. There’s no evidence to back it up.”
“You of all people should believe it.” Brenda said, referring to Y/n’s practice of witchcraft.
“Well, maybe I do.” Y/n said, “but the best thing about this is that it came at a very low price.” She looked up into the large house, crying out, “I mean, look how big it is!”
“It was a good bargain,” Sonya agreed.
Brenda sighed, “just don’t come running to us when the lights start to flicker ominously.”
“Ooooooo!” Sonya moaned like a ghost, waving her fingers towards her friend.
“Oh, shut up!” Y/n laughed, “If there are any ghosts, then I’ll befriend them!”
Chuck gasped. “Did you hear that?!” he grabbed at Thomas’s arm. “A new friend!”
“It’s not like she can see us,” Gally grumped. “And why would we be friends with a living? We’re so much cooler.”
Watching the three living friends move in were seven ghosts. True to the rumours, the old mansion was haunted. Thomas, Teresa, Minho, Newt, Alby, Gally, and Chuck were the resident spirits.
“At least she’s young.” Thomas said, shrugging. “Not like the other old grandpa we were all afraid was going to die and then we’d have to be around him forever.”
“She’s young?” Minho asked from his game of chess with Newt. His floating piece dropped to the ground.
“It’s a girl?” Newt looked up as well. The chess could wait; he was already beating Minho at the game and he wanted to see this girl.
Alby, Minho, and Newt joined their friends at the railing. “Wow.” Alby commented, “I’m surprised she has the guts to move in.”
“Probably just a daredevil college student,” Gally sighed. “She’ll be outta here in a week. Not before throwing a huge party and messing everything up.”
“Ooh, a party!” Chuck squealed, “that’ll be fun!”
“Do you remember the tricks I taught you to scare someone?” Minho grinned. 
“Of course!” Chuck replied, “I could try them out on drunk college students!” Minho high- fived him.
“What bedroom are you gonna take?” Brenda asked Y/n, carrying in a heavy, clothed- filled box. “I’m gonna drop this soon.”
“Um, the one next to the library.” Y/n directed her. 
“Are the books still there?” Sonya asked, following Brenda with another box.
“I think so. Won’t it be so cool to read books from a hundred years ago or something?” Y/n smiled widely. “I wonder what stories they have in them.”
“You nerd,” Brenda rolled her eyes. 
“Newt,” Alby started, “isn’t that the room you use? Your study or reading room?”
“Uh, yeah.” Newt stifled a cough. “Guess I’ll have to move for the time being.”
The spirits followed the three girls into Newt’s study- now Y/n’s bedroom. Y/n opened the boxes and while Brenda and Sonya helped put away her clothes in the antique dressers, Y/n started pulling out crystals and candles by the dozen. 
“Still don’t know why you collect those heavy- ass things,” Brenda muttered. “Being the one to carry them up, I have a deep hatred for them.”
“It helps calm me!” Y/n protested, meticulously setting them up. 
“Are you sure you have enough stuff to fill this mansion?” Sonya asked. 
Y/n shrugged. “I’m just glad it came with the furniture. I didn't have to go out shopping for like, eight dining tables.”
“Oh,” Chuck drifted closer to the crystals. “What are those?” He reached out to touch a swirling blue and green one, wanting to see his hand wave through it, and surprisingly, his hand didn’t wave through it. Chuck reeled backwards with a scream, knocking the crystal down with a clatter. 
Y/n’s head whipped towards it, eyes narrowed. She hummed thoughtfully, gently setting the crystal upright. 
“What was that?!” Chuck screamed out, backing into the other distressed ghosts. 
“He touched that!” Minho yelled out, “he touched that!”
“Alby, what does that mean?” Gally asked hurriedly. Alby and Newt shared a glance. Teresa slowly approached the crystal and poked it with a finger, not using her ghost- powers. It wobbled at her contact, but she didn’t let it fall.
“I’ve never seen this before,” Alby whispered. 
Newt wondered out loud, “could she be another of… magical descent?”
“Remember when Teresa died?” Alby said, mostly to Newt. The others listened in. “She spoke of people that called themselves witches. But not like my witches- kind ones. Ones that practised it for the better. They used crystals and candles and cards. There were different kinds too. Like, moon witches or garden witches.”
“Yeah,” Teresa inputted, “one of my friends was friends with someone who just used nature or plants to make themselves feel better. They talked a lot about appreciating Mother Earth.”
“Do you think this new girl would classify herself as a witch?” Newt asked. 
“A modern one, maybe.” Teresa said, “but not like the ones the media portrays.”
“The media?” Gally was confused. 
“Remember? I told you about TV’s, computers, and other things.”
“I’m sorry,” Gally held up his hands, “but all I had was the radio.”
“So if she’s a witch- but let’s not jump to conclusions,” Newt said, “then maybe we could contact her. Chuck’s already proven that we can touch her materials. Maybe she’ll call out to us with an Ouija board or something.”
Teresa muttered something about old souls. Newt frowned at her words but Thomas and Minho stifled laughter.
Y/n lit her candles, joking, “I need to cleanse this house. Who knows what evil spirits are here?” Sonya and Brenda laughed, but the ghosts were worried 
“Evil spirits?” Chuck worried. “We’re spirits.”
“But we’re not evil,”  Alby countered. 
“Well, Gally is.” Thomas shrugged. Gally swung a punch at him, but Thomas just giggled as it connected with his transparent body, not harming him at all. 
Y/n placed the lit candles around the room, softly humming to herself. The ghosts waited for a moment, but none of them disappeared. They all sighed in relief. 
“Well,” Sonya said, “we’ll leave you to get settled in and come back in a couple days?” The last part was a question. Y/n nodded, showed the girls out with many hugs and cheek kisses, and then entered her room again, finalising the finishing touches. 
Newt watched her curiously while the rest seemed kind of bored, rummaging through the new humans’ things. Y/n put up pictures of her family and friends, Newt following close behind. He saw a picture of her and a boy that seemed to be her age. Was that her brother or boyfriend? Something ugly stirred deep inside him. 
Oddly, then Y/n sat cross legged on the floor, holding some smaller crystals in her hands. She started rocking back and forth slightly. Breathing steadily, she closed her eyes. Something had seemed off about this house, even before she bought it. Something called to her, so she knew she had to buy it. Taking in deep breaths, slightly unsure if it would work but desperately hoping, Y/n called to the spirits she knew were there. She had never tried such an intense spell before; usually her spells were simple things such as warding off evil spirits, bringing good luck, or willing the anxiety to leave her. Such a powerful spell such as seeing spirits or ghosts was something she had never considered. 
When she felt the magic come to a calm, Y/n slowly opened her eyes. Sitting in front of her, mirroring her criss-crossed stance, was a fair haired translucent boy, staring at her inquisitively. Y/n screamed loudly, jumping backwards. Newt startled, standing up as well. 
“Why is she screaming?” Thomas asked. Y/n whipped around and when she saw him poking at her boxes, screamed again. 
“Wait,” Alby started towards her, “can you see us?” 
“Who are you people?!” Y/n shrieked, backing up into a corner and answering Alby’s question. “How did you get in my house?”
“Your house?” Gally scoffed, “we’ve been living here far longer. Wait,” he stopped, “you can see us.”
“Yes I can see you!” Y/n cried, “What do you mean?! And how did you get in here!? Get out now!”
“We can’t,” Teresa said, “We’re tied to this house. How can you see us?”
“Are you ghosts?” Y/n asked in disbelief.
“Yes,” Newt answered, examining her.
“Then I guess the spell I said made you visible to me?” Y/n shrugged, “I have no idea.” She sat down. “I can’t believe you guys are spirits!”
“We are,” Newt affirmed. 
“How did that happen?”
New sat down on the bed next to her. “We don’t know. The first one to die on this property was Alby. He died right after the Salem Witch trials. Minho then bought this property and died when he got ran over by one of his bulls.”
“Really?!” Y/n snorted.
Minho rolled his eyes and said, “At least I didn’t die of being cold!” Chuck gaped at him. Thomas patted the boy's head reassuringly.
Newt elaborated, “Chuck died when he was young- younger than all of us. Of hypothermia, or as Minho calls it, ‘being a wuss to coldness’.”
Minho chuckled, ruffling Chuck’s hair. “Still love you, little bro.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Chuck waved him away, smiling.
“Next, I died,” Newt continued, “and then Thomas by a gunshot wound. After five dead children, people began to suspect the property was haunted.”
“How did you die, if you don’t mind me asking?” Y/n cautiously ventured.
“Doesn't matter,” Newt evaded the question, waving her away. He felt bad for not telling the truth, but he would tell her later. “No one lived on if for a while, and that’s when the five of us became really close. Gally’s wealthy family were the ones to build this house around World War One. He was just a kid then, but died in World War Two of wounds after he came back home. His family lived out their days, but none of them died here. Other people came and went, but the rumours and suspicions still surrounded this place. It didn’t help that Thomas, Chuck, and Minho made it there goal to terrorise anyone who stepped foot in here. Teresa, around your age when she moved in, died a few months later of cancer. She would’ve been in the hospital, but she refused. And that’s how we got our final seventh member.”
“Wow. That’s a lot of information to take in.” Y/n said, running a hand through her hair. “So, what things can you guys do as ghosts?”
“We can’t really touch anything.” Thomas waves a hand through one of Y/n’s boxes of clothes, his limb travelling right through it.
“But it was you guys who knocked over my crystal?”
“Yeah…” Chuck looked guilty, “that was me.”
“It’s okay!” Y/n quickly said, picking up on his shift in mood. “I just wanna know how you did it.”
“Not sure.” Teresa said, “Usually we can touch things if we try really hard- or at least bend inanimate objects to our will. For example, we really like playing chess and can make the pieces float to where they need to go. However, if we’re not concentrating, then we kinda just pass through things.”
“So are you all concentrating on not falling though this floor?”
Alby explained, “Not really. At first, yes, a ghost has to learn how to work their new abilities, but after a while it becomes second- hand nature.”
Y/n nodded, finally getting a grasp on it all. “And you all just live here? Together?”
“Yep!” Minho said happily, “We’re like one big, happy, family!”
“You’re actually in Newt’s room right now.” Thomas offered, not helping in the slightest. Newt shot him a look. 
“Oh my gosh!” Y/n stood, “I’m so sorry! I can pick another room or something if you’d like.”
“No no!” Newt was quick to reassure her, “It’s completely fine! I don’t sleep in this room- none of us need to sleep if we don’t want to. I just like to use it because it’s next to the library and it’s easier to read if Minho and Thomas aren’t rushing through it on their weird adventures or dares.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” Newt smiled.
Y/n slowly sat back down, laughing sheepishly. “I actually chose this room because it’s next to the library. I would love it if you could give me recommendations.”
“I would love to!” Newt beamed, not telling her that he knew of her desire to choose this room as they had all been listening in before. “Teresa and I swap recommendations all the time, though she’s more into the non- fictions and I like fantasy, science- fiction books more.”
“He also likes romance.” Chuck added. 
If Newt could blush, he would be. The boys all cackled at his embarrassed face, but Y/n simply smiled kindly. “Oh, that’s okay,” she said, “sometimes I like romance too.”
“Okay!” Newt was relieved. “Actually, I can show you some of my favourites now! Come on.” He bobbed up from the bed and slowly floated out of the door, showing Y/n to the library. He was considerate of not going through the walls as he normally did, instead showing her the way. 
The rest of the ghosts stared after them. 
“Is it possible,” Gally started, “that Newt has feelings for a living girl?”
“Um,” Teresa scrunched her eyebrows. “I think it’s very possible.”
“I would say a bad word,” Minho groaned, “but Chuck’s here.”
“I’m literally older than half the spirits here!” Chuck cried. 
Meanwhile, Newt glided down the hall, showing Y/n to the massive library. Books covered the walls and ornate carvings on the shelves. Three stories high, it was an impressive sight to behold. 
Y/n, after admiring the rows and rows of books, couldn’t stop staring at the space between Newt’s floating feet and the floor. 
“Are you admiring my floating?” Newt chuckled.
“As a matter of fact, yes.” Y/n hummed. “I’m also wondering if I should tell my friends about you and the others. I’m still half convinced I’m crazy and you’re all a hallucination.”
“I promise we’re not.” Newt said. 
“Exactly what a hallucination would say.” Y/n countered. 
“True,” Newt laughed at that. 
“I’m also just really proud that I could summon you guys,” Y/n said, “that’s a pretty big step for a witch. And the fact that I can see you, talk to you, and you back, without some sort of interference is amazing!” Newt grinned at her excitedness. “So, what books would you recommend?” Y/n sucked in a breath filled with exhilarating nervousness.
“Well, what genres do you enjoy?”
“Just give me your favourite book.” Y/n said, “I like reading someone else’s favourite book as it weirdly makes me feel closer to them. Like I understand them better. Does that make sense?”
“Yes.” Newt looked at her like she was the only thing in the whole world. “I completely understand.” 
“So, what’s your favourite book?” Y/n prompted him after the slightly awkward silence. 
“Well, I like anything Shakespeare has written. And there are so many classic fairy tales that people don’t appreciate anymore. I would recommend Romeo and Juliet if you haven’t read it already, but also The Time- Traveler’s Wife is fantastic.”
“Ooh, I would love to read both. Where are they?” 
“I actually have a shelf that I like to keep all my favourites on,” Newt explained. “Unfortunately, Alby was cleaning a little while ago and had to move them. They're up on a higher shelf.”
“Is there a ladder that I could use?” Y/n looked around. 
“Oh, no.” Newt scratched his neck. “You see, we don’t have a need for ladders cause we can… you know, float.” Newt flew up a couple feet to prove his point. 
Y/n chuckled. “I guess so. Could you go get them? I wanna see your powers.”
Newt nodded slowly. He didn’t want to tell her about his fear of heights. He hadn’t always been afraid of heights, but ever since his death, he had been avoiding them. “Yeah,” he swallowed his fear and said, “I can get them for you.” Newt drifted upwards towards the top shelf where Alby had stored his books until he was done cleaning. If Alby had known Newt wanted to reach them, he would’ve never put them up so high, but what can you do? New quickly plucked out Romeo and Juliet and The Time Traveler’s Wife for Y/n, before quickly floating back down. He handed them to Y/n, the tip of her finger brushing through his. 
“Thanks,” Y/n’s smile made it all worth it. “I’ll get started on them right away.”
“Well, don’t you wanna explore your new house?” Newt asked, “Chuck and Minho know all the secret passageways. Alby can tell you the entire history behind this property. Thomas can help you decorate. Weirdly, he has a good eye for that kind of thing. Gally can fix anything that’s not working. He may need to get the shower up and running again. Teresa knows all the nooks and crannies. She can also whip up a couple of mean muffins.”
“You guys can eat?”
“We don’t have to, but it’s nice every once in a while to be reminded of what ice cream tastes like.”
“And what do you do in the house?”
Newt hesitated. “I guess I just make sure everything’s running smoothly. While Alby insists everyone needs a schedule to make sure we’re not bored as hell, I’m the person that makes sure people stay on their schedule and help them if need be.”
“So you’re a very important part of this house?” Y/n asked with a hint of a tease.
Newt breathed a laugh, waving her away. “No, not really.” 
“You are,” Y/n insisted. “It sounds like you do the things no one else wants to do.” 
“I guess.”
“Hey,” Y/n’s eyes lit up, “why don’t we celebrate my moving in and making several new apparition friends by having a movie night? I can help Teresa make cupcakes or something, we could pop a couple bags of popcorn, pick three movies and get to know each other better? I mean, I’m essentially becoming your guy’s roommate who just showed up. I didn’t ask for your permission to move here- I just did. This could be my ‘thank you’ for letting me stay.”
“That sounds awesome.” Newt said, “I’ll go tell the others.” He happily drifted through the wall before remembering Y/n couldn’t pass through solids, popping his head back out the wall, smiling sheepishly, and returning to her.
**
Y/n and her ghost friends had been getting along splendidly for the last few weeks. Teresa would make Y/n a nice breakfast in the morning, more if the others wanted some, before Y/n woke up. Then when Y/n went to work, the spirits did their Alby- mandated chores as always. Gally was busy human- proofing the house and Thomas had already helped Y/n unbox everything and decorate Newt’s study as her bedroom. Newt had graciously moved his reading room to the room right next to hers. When Y/n came home, Chuck greeted her with a strong hug and Minho with a ruffling of her hair. Newt always watched from the foyer. And Y/n always noticed him and pulled him into a long hug. While making dinner, Y/n and Teresa pulled everyone else into help. Chuck usually stirred something or snuck some unbaked food. Minho washed dishes while Gally dried them. Alby handled the oven and Thomas the chopping of fruits and vegetables. Y/n and Teresa worked on the main meal and Newt flittered around doing whatever else needed to be done, causally brushing up against Y/n.
After dinner they settled for either a game night or movie night if Y/n didn’t need to spend some more time working. When Y/n needed to work, Newt would sit by her and make sure she wasn’t overworking. However, sometimes Newt would find Y/n pacing her room, whispering away on her phone or pouring over a book. He would keep his findings to himself, although wondering what she was doing. Other times, Y/n would be found in her room, surrounded by candles meditating. 
“Hey Y/n?” Newt approached her one night while she was on the phone.
“I’ll call you back,” Y/n said quickly. After a second, she softly rolled her eyes and said, “I love you too.” 
Newt frowned but continued, “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but we were wondering if you wanted to come down?”
“Of course!” Y/n nodded.
“May I ask who you were calling?” Newt wondered as he walked her down the staircase.
“My grandma,” Y/n explained, “I was hoping to get some… counselling.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Y/n looked around for any of the other ghosts before gesturing for Newt to follow her. She led him to an unused room and turned to him, excited. “I’ve been looking around and talking to my grandma, who’s also a witch, and reading some books. With a little magic,” the girl looked hesitant yet hopeful, “I may be able to bring you guys back.”
Newt reeled backwards. “What do you mean you can bring us back?!”
“Okay, well, it’s not a little magic,” Y/n conceded the truth, “it’s a lot of complicated magic. And some of it may be black magic. But it’s for the greater good! So it cancels out. My grandma warned me about it, but I think after I-”
“Y/n.” Newt steeled her. “No. You can’t do that. Trust me, it won’t work. Listen…” he took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes. “You’re not the first witch to live here. Before Gally died, there was another who lived here. Her name was Ava Paige. As a young witch back then, she thought she could do anything. She was indeed powerful, but we got a little too close to her. We trusted her too much. She wanted to bring us back, like you, so she dipped into the dark arts. It- It didn’t turn out well. By just brushing into the darker arts, her soul was consumed and she be- became inhuman. It was terrible.” Newt ran a hand through his hair. It fluffed up because of it. “Thomas had to pick up a shotgun and kill her. You don’t see her here because something evil was inside of her. She didn’t return after she died. I don’t want that to happen to you, Y/n.” For the first time since he started talking, Newt looked into her eyes. 
“Newt,” Y/n’s voice broke, “how did you die?”
“I killed myself.” Newt revealed. “I died by suicide. Alby and Minho kept trying to stop me but I couldn’t see them until it was too late. I woke up as a ghost with three boys I didn’t know staring down at me.” 
“Oh, Newt.” Y/n lunges forward to hug him, but Newt, not expecting it, lets her tumble through him and put the other side. Y/n sighed, unable to comfort him. “I’m so sorry. That’s horrible. I wish I could hug you.”
“Just- please don’t try to bring us back.” Newt cautioned her, “I don’t want you disappearing into a blackness that only death could pull you out of. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you. I don’t want you to die.”
“But then I could be with you.” Y/n whispered, “Eternally.”
“Don’t you dare,” Newt shook his head. “I will not let you. Stay alive for as long as you can. Love your life to the fullest. I will not have that gift ripped away from you.”
“Newt,” Y/n’s voice trailed off as Newt hurridley floated away, once again running a hand through his hair, despair haunting his face. Y/n’s jaw tightened as she took out her phone and dialled her grandma. “Grandma,” she started, “hi. I was wondering if you could send me the book?” After quiet, urging words on the other end of the phone, Y/n said, “Then maybe we can come to a compromise. When’s the next full moon?”
**
With her Grandma’s book in hand, the full moon overhead, and surrounded by all her candles and crystals and plants, Y/n sat cross- legged. She had drawn a circle around herself and had gotten everything ready. 
She only hoped that the ghosts wouldn’t figure out what was going on until it was too late. 
Y/n started chanting slowly, fixating on the words from the book. Her chanting grew louder, the candles flickering and wind starting to howl outside. She called upon any deity she could think of, using all the different types of magic her grandma had taught her. 
From downstairs, Newt glanced up from his book, something troubling him. 
Y/n took a deep breath before chanting the second line of the spell. Then the third line, and back to the first. If she were to open her eyes or break her concentration, she would find the candles all blown out and the book laid closed before her. As Y/n repeated the first line, something bubbled from deep inside her. Something dangerous she instantly knew should never have been touched. However, she pushed through. Dark veins started crawling up her arms, the punishment for crossing the dark line of witchcraft. They climbed higher and higher eventually reaching her elbows before- 
The door slammed open and Newt, along with the others rushed through. “Y/n!” Newt cried once he saw her state. 
Y/n’s eyes flew open and for a second Newt swore they were pitch black. An animalistic rage buzzed with her glare. Then the spell broke and they turned back to her normal, e/c colour. 
“What were you doing?!” he screamed. Alby, Thomas, Gally, and Minho rushed into the room, tossing out the candles, cleansing the crystals, and erasing the circle as Teresa held Chuck back. 
“Why did you do that?!” Y/n yelled back. “I was so close! I would’ve done it!”
“Look at your arms!” Newt cried, rushing to her, “A few more seconds and you would’ve been gone!” 
“I wasn’t completing the full spell!” Y/n argued, “I had everything prepared. I was doing it under the full moon and altering it so you guys would only be human again when the moon was at its most powerful! It wasn’t like Ava, I promise!”
The rest of the spirits froze at the name. “How does she know about that?” Alby asked, voice dangerously low.
“She told me about her plan so I told her of Ava to warn her,” Newt replied slowly.
Alby took a deep breath before saying, “Newt, I understand you feel for this human, but we have no control over them. We promised never to speak of Ava again.”
“I’m sorry, Alby,” Newt said, “but I couldn't let her do this. I just couldn’t.”
Y/n rubbed at her black veins. Why did they scar if the spell didn’t work?
“Newt,” Y/n whispered, “I think it might’ve worked.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, distracted.
“I completed the spell. But I told you, I didn’t go all the way. I modified it so you would only return to living humans under the full moon. Well, it’s the full moon and I think it worked.”
Chuck interrupted the conversation by jumping loudly up and down. “Oh my god,” he beamed, “I don’t go through the floor!”
“Chuck,” Teresa chastised, “you’ve been practising your whole life. Of course you don’t fall through the floor.” 
“Yeah,” Gally said, “but Minho, Alby, Thomas, and I just picked everything up without having to think about it.” 
Y/n looked hopefully at Newt. He glanced back at her, worried. Then, Y/n leapt forward and engulfed Newt in a hug. Newt stumbled back, surprised. “I caught you,” he whispered. 
“It worked!” Thomas cried. The others started jumping around and shouting, overwhelmed by the newfound realisation. Teresa used a small knife to cut open her arm, eyes growing large when blood started to blink out. Minho and Thomas embraced, clapping each other on the back and Chuck flopped onto Y/n’s bed, feeling the comfort of a blanket once more. Alby stood in the middle of the room, tears brimming his eyes. Was he actually alive? Gally couldn’t stop yelling, grasping all his friends in a tight hug. 
Newt and Y/n just kept hugging each other. Newt squeezed her tightly, afraid it was all a dream and she was going to disappear. Real tears, which he had not been able to conjure since death, slipped down his face and he took joy in feeling them. He gripped Y/n even tighter, her shirt bunching up underneath his fists. Y/n hugged him back, knowing that she shouldn’t let go. Overcome with so much emotion, Newt simply buried his face into the crook of her neck, quietly sobbing. 
“Newt?” Y/n gently pulled back, cupping his face in her hands. Her thumb swiped away his tears. “Are you okay?” 
“I’m better than okay, love.” Newt’s voice broke. “I’m fantastic.” 
“It’s only during the full moon,” Y/n looked ashamed, “I’m sorry I couldn’t extend it longer, but everyone will be spirits except for one day a month.” 
“It’s perfect,” Newt swallowed. “Bloody perfect. You’re bloody perfect.”
Y/n scoffed and shook her head. “I could’ve done better. It’s not-” Newt cut off her worries with a kiss. 
Y/n startled backwards and Newt immediately felt terrible. “I’m so sorry!” he started rambling, cheeks coating with an embarrassed blush. “I should’ve asked but I didn’t. I just messed everything up by not asking and I’m so sorry-” 
Y/n didn’t say anything except pull him close and kiss him again. “Just caught me off guard,” she mumbled. Newt beamed before bending down and pressing his lips to hers. 
Minho was first to notice, letting out a loud ‘whoop’ that gained everyone else’s attention. Thomas wolf- whistled which only made the lovers smile and deepen the kiss. Gally hid his blush at the display and Teresa grinned. Alby laughed out of pure delight for them and Chuck made a gagging noise, burying himself in the blanket. 
Newt slowly pulled away, smiling wildly. Life was certainly going to change. 
**
While life continued as normal in the ‘haunted mansion’, there was an air of happiness ever present that wasn’t there before. Teresa would hum to herself while baking and Alby was seen laughing more often. Even Gally was caught smirking whenever he found something amusing. 
Y/n would come home from work as always, but it was Newt she greeted first and then Chuck and Minho. 
In the days leading up to the full moon, the house got livelier and livelier. Thomas would chase Chuck around before Newt would call out in warning. Chuck would yell something about himself being indestructible and Minho would swoop in, lifting him high into the air. 
When the fateful day came, the spirits did whatever came to mind. Gally challenged Ably to a duelling match, each poking and prodding each other with dull swords, oddly relishing in the fact that blood could be spilt. Teresa conducted experiments in the kitchen, excited to actually be able to smell the chemicals or accidentally cover herself in pink dye. Thomas and Minho would dare each other to complete life- defying stunts such as jumping out a window or drinking Teresa’s new concoction. Chuck always followed closely behind, a little scared that something may happen, but also willing himself to be brave enough to do what the older boys did. 
Newt and Y/n would always disappear, either into the library or her room as the full moon declared their date night. The others knew not to disturb them, mostly out of kindness, but also Y/n’s strong glare whenever one brought it up teasingly. None of them really knew what they did (although Thomas jokingly thought they dramatically reenacted Shakespeare while Minho wiggled his eyebrows; though he couldn’t say his thoughts in front of Chuck. Chuck, however, made a point to not jump on Y/n’s bed anymore unless he was certain the sheets had been cleaned). Truth be told, the couple did whatever they pleased; whether it was calmly watch a movie, curl up and reading together, having an indoor picnic, or something else. Whatever it was, Newt would always absentmindedly stroke Y/n’s blacked veins, forever grateful of her sacrifice. Y/n woke up in the middle of the night sometimes, plagued with nightmares, but Newt was quick to comfort her. It was always worse the closer they got to the full moon. Nonetheless, everyone in the house, dead or alive, were content and happier than they had ever been.
However, people do get older. While Y/n grew up, the spirits stayed the same. Newt was always worried she would move on to another house, but she never did. She never got married, either. Sonya’s children would come over, along with Y/n’s nieces and nephews, begging to hear stories from their auntie. Y/n would sit them down, alcohol in hand (forever loving her and Brenda’s role as the wine aunts,) and tell them stories of witchery, spirits, monsters, and her still black veins. The children would watch with large eyes, terrified, yet enamoured. After each story was done, the never ending questions of “was it real?!” came forth. Y/n would simply laugh and raise a toast to her spirit friends watching from the kitchen. Newt would raise his glass back, smiling. But a small part of him felt guilty while watching his love be surrounded by kids. Did he take that away from her?
Yet, the tradition of dying young in that house didn’t stop. While in a heated discussion with Teresa one day, at the age of twenty- one, Y/n slipped on the stairs, tumbling down and hitting her head on the polished wood. Teresa let out a scream, signalling to the others that something was wrong. But they were too late. Y/n lay in a growing puddle of her blood. 
If Newt could cry, he would’ve. A hollow scream left his lips as he stared at his beloved. He crashed to the ground next to Y/n, cursing every god he knew. Frantic, and not thinking clearly, his translucent hands swept through her, willing Y/n to just wake up. Minho gripped his shoulder firmly, reminding him it would be okay. It would all be okay. Alby slowly drifted towards the phone, a deep aching feeling of melancholy in his chest. He called the hospital.
When the paramedics came and found the body with no sight of who called, the police were called in. Pictures were taken with an invisible boy weeping over the body of his lost love. 
Alby knelt down next to him. “It’ll be okay,” he reminded Newt, a sharp edge to his voice. 
“I kept her from having a good life!” Newt cried out, his true thoughts coming through. “She stayed here because of me! I’ve cursed her to stay here for all eternity!” 
“Newt.” Alby tried to talk sense into him. “Y/n loved it here. She loved you. She loves you. She’ll be back.” 
“Look at her,” Newt whispered, gently running a hand over Y/n’s cold face. Her eyes stared up at the ceiling, lifeless. The colour had drained from her body, leaving Y/n as white as the ghosts. 
“She dabbled in black magic,” Gally said quietly so Newt couldn’t hear her. Even if he could, he was in his own little world. “Are we sure she’s going to come back?” Alby and Minho shot him a glare, telling him to shut up. Thomas shook his head. 
Eventually, after crime scene photos for a forever-to-be-opened case were taken, the paramedics gently lifted Y/n’s body onto a stretcher, draped a white cloth over her, and took her away. In her place, laid a translucent outline of Y/n. Newt gasped in relief, pulling Y/n’s spirit up into a hug. Slowly, Y/n opened her eyes. 
“What happened?” she groaned. “Why does my head hurt?” 
“You died,” Minho said bluntly. After Teresa hit him over the head, Minho quietly apologised. 
“What does he mean, Newt?” Y/n looked at the boy, only then realising that she could see through her hands. “Holy fu…” Her eyes widened and she started hyperventilating. “I died? I can’t die. I shouldn’t die. I’m a ghost? I- I- wait? Newt?” She turned to him for answers, but Newt was only grinning. 
“I’m so happy you’re not dead!” He yanked her in for another hug, then elaborated, “I mean, you are dead, but I was worried you may not come back as a spirit. I’m sorry you died. It’ll take a lot of getting used to, but we’ll help you to adjust. I- I feel terrible though.” 
“Why?” Y/n asked him, brushing some of his hair out of his face. 
“I kept you in here for so long. You didn’t get to see the world. And now you’re trapped in this house forever. I’m so sorry.” Y/n wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying; she just kept running her hands through his hair. “What are you doing?” Newt asked, swatting her hands away. 
“I can touch you.” Y/n laughed softly. “I can actually touch you. M- My hand doesn’t go through you anymore. I can touch you!” She laughed louder, and Newt, perplexed but just happy she was smiling, laughed along with her. “Newt,” Y/n reassured his concerns, “I don’t care about that. I saw the world before I moved here. And now, my world is you.” 
Minho pretended to gag behind their backs. Thomas laughed but Teresa pushed the both of them over. 
“I was just so worried you were gone.” Newt said softly. He swallowed, trying to keep everything at bay. 
“I’m not,” Y/n reassured him, “I’m here. And everything will be okay.” 
“You promise?” 
“I promise.”
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sylverstorms · 1 year
Text
Daniela x Maiden ---- Hunted Ch.8 (NSFW)
Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7
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They say if you can master yourself, you can master everything. 
You have years of hunting and self-taught combat to aid you in that department. Sharp senses, rapid reactions, great hand-eye coordination to work alongside your sturdy body. All of these traits have preserved your wellbeing on multiple occasions and are undeniably your greatest strengths. 
So it is ironic that, in a mere moment, they can also become your greatest weakness. 
One minute you are lounging in your bed, reading an old Romanian folklore book that piqued your interest from the main library. You are absorbed in the light stories and drawings there, of wish-granting fairies and trees with wills of their own, so much that your eyes begin to droop. 
And then a strong gust of wind comes from outside. Whatever miniscule gap exists in the locking mechanism of your window allows the air to move the flimsy curtain covering it ever-so-slightly. At the same time, the very corner of your eye registers movement. A shadow; a bat, a monster, a trick of the light –it doesn’t matter. 
It sets you off like a fire alarm. 
Suddenly, you are leaping high into the air, eyes wide, frantic, you are bursting out of your room and you cannot breathe. That’s all it takes. Literally all it takes for you to fall apart; one stray little stimulus caught by your hunter senses and misinterpreted by your mind.
You’d smack straight into the opposite side of the corridor, if it wasn’t for the warm body you crash into, instead. The person unfortunate enough to be tackled into the wall manages to conceal the collision with a soft grunt. Their knees do not hit the ground when yours do. You’d apologize, if only you could find your voice. If your brain wasn’t closing in on you with thoughts of impending doom. If the roof wasn’t coming down to crush you– 
“Hey, hey. Seren, take it easy.” A familiar, smoky voice calls your name. Firm digits press at your shoulder. 
That… breaks you out of your panic mode a little. At least your body stops shaking. Surely, it’s a start. You suck deep breaths into your lungs, until you can finally look up to confirm who it is. Fine dark hair. Hazel eyes. Attractive jawline. Alexia crouches beside you so you don’t have to crane your neck up to meet her gaze. 
“Are you alright? What happened?” she asks and her calmness is infectious. 
“I–I almost fell asleep and then… I thought something outside my window moved.” God, you hate how breathless you sound. “I fucking –lost it.” 
She doesn’t say anything at first, merely lets you count inhales and exhales while her eyes scan your room. “Can’t be a Samce; they don’t normally fly this low or approach the warmer parts of the castle.” she muses, more to herself than you. “Probably just a bat.”
You nod when your heartbeat stops pounding raw pain across your chest. “Yeah. This a thing that… happens.” Not often, but it does. Not that you could ever get used to this kind of impact.
“Sorry to hear that.” Alexia's lips press together. You take her offered hand to stand on your feet again. “Do you want to join me for a while?” 
“Ah… wouldn’t want to keep you up.” you hesitate. 
“Don’t worry about that. I think I’ll wait for Cassandra to return from her hunt, anyway.” she shrugs. 
The two of you take slow, unhurried steps towards the human staff’s common room. You make sure to keep your voices down, not to disturb any of the other women sleeping as you pass by the locked doors of their chambers. Nobody wants to deal with complaining and death-glares come morning. 
At your destination, Alexia pours you both some whiskey, hands you your glass and takes a seat beside you on the couch. Unlike most people, she doesn’t feel the need to fill the silence with smalltalk. You appreciate the time she gives you to completely cool down. 
“It’s not like you, to freak out like that.” comes the comment, eventually. 
“It is, though.” It's a bitter reply, complete by taking a healthy gulp of alcohol that leaves a much-needed burn down your throat. “I’m not fearless like you.”
“I’m… what, now?” A thin eyebrow raises. “I think you’ve got the wrong person there.”
“No.” You shake your head. “The other maids talk of what you did. You were the first ever to escape. As well as the spark that improved living conditions here for the staff.” What guts that takes is beyond your comprehension. 
“I improved living conditions for myself.” Alexia corrects. “Rhiannon advocated for the rest, not me. I’m not that selfless or that good.” So she says, but you are inclined to disagree. 
“Well, anyway. You’re dating Cassandra.” There. Point made. If that doesn’t scream ‘fearless’, nothing does.  
The edge of Alexia’s mouth quirks up. “Not for lack of fear.” 
That answer, you were not expecting. It makes you shift your body towards her, the question evident in your expression. “...Really?”
“Of course. Do you know how long it took for my blood not to turn to ice, at that feral look she got in her eyes when hungry?” You never could have imagined she felt the same as you. Cassandra and she always look so comfortable together. “Before I ever spoke to her, she was the Dimitrescu I feared the most.”
“And how did you overcome that?” you animatedly ask. 
“Everything you want is on the other side of fear.” The words come out perfectly even. “Once I realized that, I could set it aside more and more. At first, it was for benefit. Then, it was for love. Until it disappeared entirely.” 
Well, that is… enlightening. 
“Everyone has phobias and traumas, Seren, whether they are aware of them or not. Trust me, the Dimitrescus are no different than us in that regard.” Indeed, you’re starting to see that. “And maybe that’s the root of the problem. Healthy relationships are hard to build between wounded people.”
Wounded...
“Whatever is haunting you, you should talk about it. In time.” And with that, she finishes her drink. “Rhiannon is best suited to these kinds of things but… you also know where to find me.”
You smile. Raise your glass to that. 
The daughters return in the ungodly hours of the morning. You hear the exact moment the heavy gates groan open from the top of the staircase, the hushed giggles that follow. Three dark, buzzing blurs make a beeline for the lit fireplace, where their figures solidify. 
Cassandra is the first to push back her hood, head turning towards her girlfriend in the same swift motion. The dim firelight brings out the inhuman gold in her eyes that much more, gleaming like a cat’s. Rich blood coats the lower half of her lips and neck, glistens like a morbid jewel on her too-pale skin. Her smile is that of a wolf’s. 
Your blood pressure rises from it, but Alexia regards her coolly, almost fondly. She’s prepared for the predator flashing in front of her face, as opposed to you, pushing backwards in pure, unrestrained reflex. But the wolf seems more and more domesticated the longer she stays there, locked in a staring competition with a human. 
What surprises you is the fact she’s not looking down on a lesser, weaker species than herself. She sees her equal. 
“Don’t you dare–” Alexia begins, but Cassandra has already pressed a bloody glove to her chin and made a point of dragging it down her neck. 
“Now you need a bath, too.” A wink. “Don’t worry if it doesn’t come right off. I’ll just have to lick hard–”
“Too much information.” Bela knocks her shoulder into her sister’s on her way up the final step in a way that's no accident. 
The low, answering growl would send most people running for the hills. Instead, the blonde ignores it, brings her hand up in a bored little wave as she passes you by. And then… the third shadow joins you, the smears on her lower face as red as her hair.  
“Hey. I thought you’d be sleeping at this hour.” Daniela says, the quiet softness of her voice dizzyingly out of place against her bloodied image. “Miss me that much?” Subtly heterochrome eyes crinkle underneath her hood.
“Let’s go with that.” You reply. 
“Well, since you’re up…” she drags the word out. “Mind drawing me a bath?” Puppy eyes. You get puppy eyes from the baby wolf of the family. 
And of course… you’re not immune to them. 
Which is why, five minutes down the line, you find yourself standing in the bathroom connected to her bedchambers, pointedly staring at the door as Daniela undresses –surely, she could do it faster?– and slips into the water behind you. You keep your mind on the decor, your back to her despite how it unnerves you, until the water has drained twice and she assures you you can look. 
Slowly, you peek with one eye over your shoulder. True to her word, the steaming bathtub is now filled with salts and bubbles, the metallic scent and hue of blood gone. Daniela is laying back amidst the foam like a princess waiting to be painted, long crimson hair sticking to the marble surface that is almost as pale as her skin. 
If you didn’t know what kind of monster she is, seeing her all relaxed here and looking up at you underneath those long lashes of hers, you’d think her a siren. Maybe she is one after all, because you approach, as if under a spell, the moment she motions you closer with a slight tilt of her chin. 
No wonder she smells so good, if this is what she bathes in every day. You wave the stray thought as soon as it forms in your head. You also make a point to keep your eyes above her collar.  
“I thought you don’t like having others around when you bathe.” you speak up, needing to steer your mind in a less intimate direction. This is the first thing you come up with, one of the first key pieces of information the older maids gave you about her. 
“Normally… no.” she admits as if also saying ‘you, I don’t mind’. “But then again I usually keep my head submerged.”
“Oh. I do that, too. The calming effect only works with cold water, though.” You’d know. You have sought out its icy embrace to numb your racing heart, your pain, your fears. Everything.
“Does it.” There’s doubt in her voice. A distant look in her eyes that makes her appear… older, for a moment. The kind that hints she’s tried this for the same reasons you have. Perhaps in a different life. 
You grimace. “The isolation part works, at least.” This is a road down loaded subjects you’re taking and it is too early –too draining– for that. You decide to steer your path in a lighter angle; “Anyway. Here I thought it was a modesty thing.” 
Daniela’s gaze shifts to yours, turning more mischievous by the millisecond and it feels oddly good that she’s back to being the little shit you know. “Modesty is not a thing~” She pushes herself forward as she says it, chest puffed out, bubbles pulled along rosy, pebbled nipples–
Until your hand shoots out and presses her back down by the shoulder. “I can see that, I believe you!” The water is scorching, but you don’t care. Your face burns more. 
Daniela giggles. 
You wait in her room while she dresses and dries her hair. Busy yourself by looking around, taking in details you missed the first time you were here. Like the blood-red rose preserved in crystalline resin she has at the corner of her desk, the scented candle on the opposite, an array of lipsticks and glosses and other girly things laid out before the vanity that bears her family crest. 
The click and soft hiss of the bathroom door make you pivot. It’s a good thing you did not take the rose into your hands to examine like you wanted, because you surely would have dropped it. 
When you brought her that black, folded nightgown, you never pictured it would hug her frame so sensually. Or that its design would purposely draw attention to her chest, or that she wouldn’t be bothered to tie it properly around her waist. 
The worst part is, none of it seems intentional, this time. Daniela is just lazily running a hand through her long hair, more focused on the pillows stacked at the head of her bed than you. She’s not even trying to be seductive and your stomach has been reduced to bits. 
Bad, bad, need to get out of here–
“Seren.” There goes your escape. “Come lay with me for a while?” Sitting up against the pillows with the covers at her middle, she pats the ample space next to her. “The bed is cold.” She’s not lying; her back is rigid, hands pressed to her biceps.
“You know, it’s really late and I do need to sleep…” you try.
“Kniiiiiight…” 
“Okay, okay, but only ten minutes!” As if the finger you hold up sets some kind of boundary in stone. 
Her bed didn’t seem so intimidatingly large last time. You pull back the covers on your corner as if they’ll bite you, then kick off your shoes and settle –with all the unbreathing fluidity of a log– half-reclining on your side, your temple resting against your fist. Daniela removes her two monster teddies from getting squished between you, sets them on her bedside table with a pat on each of their heads. 
And then… you feel her icy hands creep up your elbows. A slow sigh escapes her lips; her eyes flutter shut, head rolling closer to your shoulder.
You’re a heater for eight more minutes, that’s all you’re here for, you remind yourself over and over. But time begins to blur the closer she slides her body. Quarter… then half on top of you. 
It’s –almost– fine for as long as she’s cold. It keeps you on your toes, doesn’t allow you to sink into the royal comfort of her bed or into her. Yet… she doesn’t stay cold for long. 
Then her fingers roam up your deltoid, curl at your shoulder and her lips turn to find yours. Soft, too soft and plush, more parts lingering than kissing. Your mistake is getting greedy with what you’re given. 
You of all people know not to play with fire, but you do not stop your hand from caressing the bare skin of her stomach where her gown has pulled open. Not even when you feel the hitch in her breathing. Instead, you let your tongue take the invitation of her open mouth to tangle with hers. You miss the first alarm bell when she shifts her weight fully on the leg between hers, presses into you a bit harder, effectively pinning you down.
You don’t miss the second, when her mouth trails from the corner of yours to latch onto your pulse and too-sharp teeth graze your skin. Once. Only once. Once is enough to startle you out of your heady dream and into the danger of reality. You push at her, but she doesn’t register the force. 
“Daniela!” 
The sound of her name makes her snap back, lift herself off of you on her hands and knees. At least she does it immediately, which doesn’t necessarily set you at ease, but…
But you see how her chest is heaving and her arms are straining on either side of your head. She’s reigning her instincts back as promised, expression torn between guilty and painfully turned on. Scared that you’ll push her and run off. Scared you’ll be scared to come close again. 
And you should be. 
“I–I’m sorry.” she huffs. “I wasn’t going to bite. Just– a little mark?” she explains. “It’s the first time I feel so–” Whatever she was about to say, she doesn’t. Then she whispers, softly, “Please don’t leave me like this.”
The thing is... you don’t want to leave her like this, either.
Your own feelings shock you, yet you want to finish what you started, despite how the idea of that ‘little mark’ causes your chest to tighten. 
“Can you be good?” you whisper. 
Her eyes darken further in response. She nods. 
When you press at her shoulder and roll you both around, she puts up no resistance. And there is a startling appeal to be the one to pin her down like this, for her to allow it. To further reinforce your control, her hand carefully takes yours and guides it to her throat. 
She is being good. And she must be rewarded for it. Which is why your fingers slowly trail down her smooth skin, from her chest to her navel, then hooking into the waistband of her lacy underwear. It sticks so mesmerizingly to her legs as you slowly pull it down… 
A whimper escapes her lips the moment you touch her there. You swallow the next with your own when you press a bit further into velvet heat, establishing a rhythm between push, pull and the roll of your thumb. Daniela’s hands fly to the pillow beneath her head, gripping hard.
It’s less than two minutes later you feel how tense she is, her gasps and moans no longer muted. “Seren, Seren, I’m–”
You know she is. Her body breaks into a quaking shiver, her back arches and neck cranes. She’s beautiful and if all that is torn for you to witness this sight is a mere pillow, there won’t be enough reasons to stop you from seeking it out again in the future. 
You slowly guide her down her high, until the predatory golden glow in her eyes gives way to much gentler yellowish blue. She smiles like you’ve just discovered a new star and named it after her. Then she releases the death grip she has on whatever is left of her pillow and trails her hand down your middle. Asking for permission. For direction, too. 
After everything you’ve done, it takes only seconds for you to come apart on her fingers.
And then you get unbearably embarrassed, refusing to lift your head off her ruined pillow. She doesn’t seem bothered either way, sleepily playing with the spiky ends of your hair. Rolling, tugging. 
Way to turn a mess into an already bigger mess, you think. It’s kind of like your superpower, at this point. As if this whole situation –your whole situation– wasn’t bad enough before feelings made it to the mix. 
You are her first… and you’re about to become her first heartbreak.
Your mind begins to stress and race, until you hear her voice by your ear; “Oh, no. No, no.”
“Um…?” you lift your head cautiously. It will be easier if she regrets this. You brace yourself for it. Your heart. You can take pain and it is for the best, for everyone involved.
But Daniela is not looking at you. She’s looking at her stuffed monstrosities. 
“Babiesssss.” she tells them, then carefully slides a hand out of the covers to turn them around, so they’re facing the door. “I’m so sorry, I scarred you for life. Ugh, I’m terrible…”
You squint. Stare. 
“Seren.” She pats your nape. “You have to remind me to shield their eyes and ears next time.”
Wait.
Next time…?
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thecrxwclub · 1 year
Text
assigning taylor swift songs to grishaverse characters + ships because i don’t want to do my actual work!! this is about to be long as hell!!
notes: i feel like some of these will be unpopular opinions but here we are + there are two instances where ppl have the same song (long story short and you’re on your own kid) but i just think it applies to both characters really well. and idk why basically all the crows are from midnights, it’s just a soc album i guess.
ALINA STARKOV
– long story short : evermore
"Past me, I wanna tell you not to get lost in these petty things. Your nemeses will defeat themselves before you get the chance to swing…and I fell from the pedestal, right down the rabbit hole. Long story short, it was a bad time. Pushed from the precipice, climbed right back up the cliff. Long story short, I survived. Now I’m all about you, I’m all about you. Long story short, it was a bad time. Long story short, I survived.”
MAL ORETSEV
– this is me trying : folklore
“They told me all of my cages were mental. So I got wasted like all my potential. And my words shoot to kill when I’m mad. I have a lot of regrets about that…I just wanted you to know that this is me trying. At least I’m trying.”
NIKOLAI LANTSOV
– Mastermind : Midnights
"No one wanted to play with me as a little kid. So I’ve been scheming like a criminal ever since. To make them love me and make it seem effortless. This is the first time I’ve felt the need to confess. And I swear I’m only cryptic and Machiavellian ‘cause I care.”
ZOYA NAZYALENSKY
– You’re On Your Own Kid : Midnights
“You’re on your own, kid. You always have been. From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes, I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this. I hosted parties and starved my body. Like I’d be saved by a perfect kiss. The jokes weren’t funny, I took the money, my friends from home don’t know what to say. I looked around in a blood-soaked gown, and I saw something they can’t take away.”
KAZ BREKKER
– Dear Reader : Midnights
"Dear Reader, if it feels like a trap you’re already in one. Dear Reader, get out your map. Pick somewhere and just run. Dear Reader, burn all the files, desert all your past lives. And if you don’t recognize yourself that means you did it right. Never take advice from someone who’s falling apart…Dear Reader, the greatest of luxuries is your secrets. Dear Reader, when you aim at the devil make sure you don’t miss.”
INEJ GHAFA
– Karma : Midnights
“Karma is my boyfriend. Karma is a god, karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend. Karma’s a relaxing thought, aren’t you envious that for you it’s not? Sweet like honey, karma is a cat, purring in my lap ‘cause it loves me. Flexing like a goddamn acrobat. Me and karma vibe like that.”
NINA ZENIK
– Bejeweled : Midnights
“Sapphire tears on my face, sadness became my whole sky…And you can try to change my mind. But you might have to wait in line. What’s a girl gonna do? A diamond’s gotta shine. Best believe I’m still bejeweled. When I walk in a room, I can still make the whole place shimmer…Diamonds in my eyes. I polish up real, I polish up real nice.”
JESPER FAHEY
– Anti-Hero : Midnights
"I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser. Midnights become my afternoons. When my depression works the graveyard shift all of the people I’ve ghosted stand there in the room…It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me. At tea time, everybody agrees. I’ll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror. It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero.”
WYLAN VAN ECK
– You’re On Your Own Kid : Midnights
“Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned. Everything you lose is a step you take. So make the friendship bracelets, take a moment and taste it, you’ve got no reason to be afraid. You’re on your own, kid. Yeah, you can face this. You’re on your own kid, you always have been.”
MATTHIAS HELVAR
– ivy : evermore
"How’s one to know? I’d live and die for moments that we stole. On begged and borrowed time…oh, goddamn. My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand taking mine, but it’s been promised to another. Oh, I can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland. My house of stone, your ivy grows, and now I’m covered in you.”
GENYA SAFIN
– Clean : 1989
“Hung my head as I lost the war, and the sky turned black like a perfect storm. Rain came pouring down. When I was drowning, that’s when I could finally breathe. And by morning, gone was any trace of you, I think I am finally clean.”
DAVID KOSTYK
– Sweet Nothing : Midnights
"On the way home I wrote a poem. You say ‘what a mind’, this happens all the time. ‘Cause they said the end is coming. Everyone’s up to something. I find myself running home to your sweet nothings. Outside, they’re push and shoving. You’re in the kitchen humming. All that you ever wanted from me was nothing.”
THE DARKLING
I Did Something Bad : Reputation
"They’re burning all the witches, even if you aren’t one. They got their pitchforks and proof, their receipts and reasons. They’re burning all the witches, even if you aren’t one. So light me, go ahead and light me up. They say I did something bad. Then why’s it feel so good? They say I did something bad. But why’s it feel so good? Most fun I ever had, and I’d do it over and over and over again if I could. It just felt so good.”
TOLYA YUL-BATAAR
– epiphany : folklore
"Keep your helmet, keep your life, son. Just a flesh wound, here’s your rifle…With you I serve. With you, I fall down. Watch you breathe in, watch you breathing out. Only 20 minutes to sleep, but you dream of some epiphany. Just one single glimpse of relief, to make some sense of what you’ve seen.”
TAMAR KIR-BATAAR
– Only the Young : Featured in “Miss Americana”
“They aren’t gonna help us, too busy helping themselves. They aren’t gonna change this, we gotta do it ourselves. They think that it’s over, but it’s just begun. Only one thing can save us…Don’t say you’re too tired to fight, it’s just a matter of time. Up there’s the finish line. Only the young can run.”
HANNE BRUM
– long story short : evermore
“Fatefully, I tried to pick my battles ‘til the battle picked me. Misery. Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep. And you passed right by, I was in the alley, surrounded on all sides. The knife cuts both ways. If the shoe fits, walk in it ‘til your high heels break.”
–––––––––––––––––––––
KANEJ
– Renegade : How Long Do You Think It’s Gonna Last?
“Are you really gonna talk about timing in times like these? And let all your damage damage me? And carry your baggage up my street and make me your future history? It’s time, you’ve come a long way. Open the blinds, let me see your face. You wouldn’t be the first renegade to need somebody. Is it insensitive for me to say ‘get your shit together so I can love you’?"
HELNIK
– Long Live : Speak Now
“Long, long live the walls we crashed through. All the kingdom lights shine, just for me and you. I was screaming, long live all the magic we made, and being on all the pretenders, I’m not afraid. Singing long live all the mountains we moved, I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you. And long, long live that look on your face. And bring on all the pretenders. One day, we will be remembered.”
WESPER
– Paper Rings : Lover
“Kiss me once ‘cause you know I had a long night. Kiss me twice ‘cause it’s gonna be alright. Three times ‘cause I’ve waited my whole life. I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings. Darling, you’re the one I want, and I hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this.”
ZOYALAI
– The Great War : Midnights
"And we will never go back to that bloodshed, crimson clover. The worst was over. My hand was the one you reached for all throughout the Great War. Always remember we’re burned for better, I vowed I would always be yours. ‘Cause we survived the Great War.”
MALINA
– invisible string : folklore
“Time, curious time. Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs. Were there clues I didn’t see? And isn’t it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?”
DARKLINA
– Dear John : Speak Now
“You are an expert at sorry and keeping lines blurry. Never impressed by me acing your tests. All the girls that you’ve run dry have tired, lifeless eyes ‘cause you burned them out. But I took your matches before fire could catch me, so don’t look now.”
DANYA
— Last Kiss : Speak Now
“But now I'll go sit on the floor wearing your clothes. All that I know is I don’t know how to be something you miss. I never thought we’d have a last kiss. Never imagined we’d end like this. Your name, forever the name on my lips.”
TAMADIA
— Lover : Lover
“My heart’s been borrowed, and yours has been blue. All’s well that ends well to end up with you…Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close, forever and ever? And I, take me out, and take me home. You’re my, my, my, my lover.”
HANNINA
— Daylight : Lover
“I’ll tell you the truth, but never goodbye. I don’t want to look at anything else now that I saw you. And I don’t want to think of anything else now that I thought of you. I’ve been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night, but now I see daylight. I only see daylight.”
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rinbowaman · 8 months
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Ship your moots and assign them a trope!
let me see....
@nikstrange - love at first sight trope, college au. either all-star b-ball player heeseung (yandere) with ballerina reader, or college bad boy heeseung (still yandere) with ballerina/music study reader. my dear Nik would be very much like MGR/MRE/HHP Y/n, very graceful, realist, rational, and elegant type, dedicated and looking forward to her date with the football team captain....until good ol' Heeseung catches wind of the date and essentially steals her away by being a bit forceful but its all out of love. very similar to the heethan/readen type.
@silcry - enemies/rivals to lovers trope. Silky would be my successful career oriented (dont need a man because she a bad-b) type. and i'd pair her with Jay or heeseung. The male lead would be someone that works for a rival company or corporation and they literally just hate each others guts until some mad, intense, good old fashion smut comes along and it would be glorious. Not sure if i would have the male lead yandere per say, but they definitely be a bit possessive and territorial over her once they fucked worked out their hatred for eachother. ;)
@iamliacamila - forbidden love trope. she probably dont know this but i definitely thought of her alot when i draft the chapters of DT, so i would say the stepbrother trope (oh girl.....i'm sorry...i think? lol its good but also....damn.....two heeseungs? can you take that?) yeah stepbrother tropes. either one heeseung stepbrother or make it the heebro twins, either way, my dear camila would be my wise, hardworking and beautiful y/n who ends up attracting her newly acquired stepbrother (heeseung....and yes he would be yandere) and....i would imagine it where the moment heeseung would strike....would be at a family camping trip, where due to the shortage of tents, step siblings have to share a tent and......yandere step-brother heeseung be taking the opportunity to make her his...if you know,......you know.
@csmicvrse - forbidden love/criminal love trope. oh....my girl...idk why....but i'd have her with a trope that's very similar to the TO series. criminal heeseung (yandere) and my quiet and innocent baby girl, running a floral shop or a small boutique and catches the eye of yandere heeseung....who takes her (in the usual yandere fashion) and straight up keeps her locked away but takes suuuuuuuuch good care of her. like literally, gives her everything she wants. you'll see, future TO chapters you're going to get a hint of it.
@heeshees - childhood lovers trope. i just picture her being that sweet and beautiful girl next door that is always helpful. She befriends nerdy HS and they become really good friends....but then she had to move away. they keep in touch through email and two years later after they start college, they find out that they are going to attend the same university. when they finally meet to catch up...nerdy HS is not so....nerdy.....and he's yandere...for her.....has been for a long time. and while she may be dazzling her smile and just thinking he's being such a cordial friend, HS be planning behind closed doors to have her all to himself. (i love a good dark romance...dont you?)
@moonmoongi - Folklore love trope. Ever since Robin Hood, i can't get her out of the thought of having her as the princess or maiden that is saved by the dashing male lead....sort of a vigilante type, who discovers our girl and (yes....you guessed it) goes yandere for her, but a soft yandere. he lavishes her with gifts and takes her up on high buildings to stargaze. he'd give her the world....but watch out if you talk, look, or try to hurt her...Robin Hood or vigilante HS would be a brutal yandere.
@lisaaannna - damsel in distress love trope. she is so gentle and kind, but people would try and take her for granted....until heeseung or niki, comes around and i'd make them a mafia leader, they would be yandere for her and protect her.....by stealing her away. but, as usual, spoil her....to no ends. nobody can mess with her because HS or Niki would have connections and eyes everywhere. let someone try and mess with her....yo....you all know what those mafia leaders are capable of.
@vampiregirl215 - Dark fantasy/demonic love trope. Yeah...ever since SE7EN.....my girl is literally going to be the y/n for that type of trope. She be the mortal princess who loved and secretly wedded the demon prince heeseung. when a mortal prince tries to get sneaky by corrupting her father, the king, and convincing him to marrying her off so the prince could have her, demonic heeseung unleashes his wrath and gets her back. this would be one where i would make heeseung AND the villain both yandere for her, and that's what makes it interesting and the villain more dangerous.
@talesofyuan - past lives love trope. i'd pair her with kei and yo....this man be so yandere for her. they were lovers in their previous lives hundreds of years ago. reborn and living in today's world, they are strangers that meet, and their souls connect instantly and kei be having this instinctive urge to keep her. he'd be that yandere to that would be sooooo brutal but very sexy at the same time. sis is going to look at this and probably give me the bombastic side eye later lol. she knows i love her though.
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