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hunnieknight · 1 year

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"The Birds and The Feathers"(+Art)

Just a pretty swan in its nest by the lake living its best life....until these avians decided you are their target of affection.

Broken grammar, Swan!Reader x Avian Constellation characters {Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao, Ayaka, Layla, Al Haitham, Kaveh, Fischl}, GN!Reader, Modern AU(?), the reader is oblivious(?), non-establish relationship, you are "that one neighbour" type of thing feral-like behaviour, everyone acting similar to their representation bird, hints of yandere, possessive and obsessive behaviour, a bit of suggestive if you squint.

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Note : Human with bird wings! Nest refers to everyone's own house, You are a swimming trainer at your local pool.

Note (13 May) : this was drafted before Mika appearance and during Kaveh first appearance (so no Mehrak)! So thats why he isnt here,and im already drained to add him

Kaeya {Pavo Ocellus//Peacock}

My my, a pretty bird isn't he? Your charismatic neighbour who would greet you with that bright smile of his.

He is that one neighbour who is always curious about your activity but won't pester you much if you refuse to answer, respecting your boundaries.

Checking up on you seems to be his favourite thing, he will briefly visit your humble hut near the lake and offers you some fruits or veggies he brought on his way home. Whenever you decline he somehow always gets an urgent call and can't bring all the groceries he had bought. Well, since he is already at your house, why don't you just accept these fresh fruits he so dearly brought to you?

If he is stopping by your nest, he often lazes around your house whilst chatting about his daily life and you just listened to him while munching on snacks he brought to you. If you are swimming, he will sit by the dock under a shade, leaving you to enjoy what you like the most. Beside, he is also enjoying seeing what he likes the most

One of the things he often gives you is little trinkets...well...the only kind of trinket he gave you is a peacock feather in a resin. It could be a bookmark, a keychain, or a small wall decoration. Since the rarely have time to hang out with you, he needs to make sure part of him will always be with you.

Peacock does value their beauty to attract their female counterpart, but for you? He would gladly be featherless with no second thoughts.

Diluc {Noctua/Great Horned Owl}

A magnificent fancy owl, isn't he? An admirable owl in its prime age running such a huge wine tycoon. Compared to the other houses in the neighbourhood, his is the biggest.

You often see him around but never interact until you bring your swimming class to collaborate with Dawn Winery. There, you saw him personally bring the crates of grape juices for your students. You both start a small conversation, and after that day you often see him on your way to work. He will pull over by your side and insist on driving you there.

His wings span is HUGE. When the sun's heat stings your skin, he will use his wings as your umbrella. What a gentleman indeed.

For some odd reason, he is active during the day and awake at night. How did he get enough proper sleep? You are not sure yourself. Another owl trait of his is his quiet steps or walk, you are always startled whenever he greets you at the swimming centre to bring grape juices for your students, and your wings spread to smack him in the face. After that incident, he always makes sure to approach you from the front.

Other than acts of service, his language is also gift-giving. At first, it was some raw meat to cook or a perfectly cooked steak you can eat, but after learning about the swan's diet, Diluc changed it into grapes and grape juices from his winery. Let's just say sometimes your nest smells like his wine.....like part of him.

Somehow this owl makes sour expressions whenever he sees peacock trinkets around your house after you confirmed Diluc where are those gifts from, he started giving you a quill pen with a feather interestingly similar to his.

Xiao {Alatus Nemeseos/Black-Tail Jade Finch}

Hm? Are you worried about your nest's safety at night? Afraid to go home by yourself when it is late? Suddenly crave eating in the middle of the night? No need to be worried about that anymore! This finch right here, Xiao, is ready to be your bodyguard.

You rarely chat with him, considering he is an introverted bird and prefers to stay in his nest. Other than seeing him dropping off and picking up his little sister, Qiqi at the swimming centre, you guys only meet in public places like parks or convenience stores, where it always started with a curt nod from him and an acknowledgement smile from you. Other than that, you guys don't talk much. However, if you guys do meet in public coincidentally at night, he often 'offers' you to walk back to your nest.

If you count 'waiting for you in front of the convenience store and walking side-by-side with you with no talking' as an offer.

Although his wings and bird's form looks small and cute, he is the most resilient and intimidating among your avian neighbour. Once you saw him decked a man thrice his size because -according to Xiao- 'He looked at you funny'.

He will not hesitate to guard you to your nest, no matter how often you tell him you don't want to bother him, he will just quip back "-and you prefer to get hunted by those bad birds?". As much as your interaction with him is awkward, you always offer tea whenever both of you arrive at the door. But he just refuses politely and 'scurry away'.

Although, he doesn't underestimate you. Once he saw you, the delicate swan became a vicious eagle to protect your swimming students.

Well, now he ought to see you protecting their child together- huh? No that's too far, he is thinking too far. He can just settle with protecting your nest and accompanying you on walks.

Ayaka {Grus Nivis/Snow Crane}

(Note : Ayaka's ability to walk on water refers to her Alt Sprint and how cranes mostly spend their time in shallow water)

Oh my! Look at her beautiful snow-like wings. Such a delicate bird and a classy one too. As a Kamisato, her giant nest (estate) where she lives with her brother is standing proudly on top of a man-made island above the lake with lilypads and lotus blooming here and there. The estate is so beautiful, you are drawn to the magnificent estate to take photos, especially the lotus lake, your swan instinct just brought your feet there.

You purposely approach the lake behind the estate. Avoided the guards so you can have a peaceful time. There, you saw her. The famous snow crane lady Kamisato Ayaka..she seems like dancing? You were mesmerized for a bit by her delicate moves, her flowy hair spinning around her like snow ribbon, and her blue ey- wait what?! She saw you, her wide blue eyes can tell she didn't expect an audience. You awkwardly make a thumbs-up and clap a little. Your wings cover your body whilst you run away from the spot.

You were just swimming around the lake near your nest, the swan blood in you just loves water so much. When you raise up above the water, you find yourself surrounded by beautiful lotus and lilypads floating around your lake, you turned around to see the snow crane above the water, smiling softly at you.

After that lilypad meeting, you both often meet behind your house -something about her feeling more comfortable to become a regular snow crane. She never hated the life of royal birds but living freely without rules to follow seems fascinating to her. So, you showed her your humble nest and how you teach little birds to swim. In return, she integrated you into her life; introducing you to her charming brother -Ayato- and the nice housekeeper Thoma, serving dishes that fit to swan's diet whenever you visit, and often a bundle of Otogi sticks or some fragrant oil from Otogi given to you before you leave-as decoration for your house she suggests and to make your nest smells more like hers.

Layla {Luscinia/Nightingale}

Poor little one, this small bird often crashes by your nest to nap or rest. Her eye bags get darker every time you see her. The least you can do is offer her warm milk to drink before she naps.

Well, you two have been close since you both were still little chicks. At this point, your nest is hers and hers is yours. Her wings feather is everywhere at your nest, from how often she is having a 'sleepover'-which is mostly you pushing her to get enough rest. She even has her own little corner in your nest, where her work drafts and papers are scattered around.

Speaking of sleeping, Layla, you know has an alternate personality that manifests from her when she is in deep sleep. This persona is energetic and determined, if Layla forgot to drink the milk you gave her before sleeping the nighttime Layla will drink it before she does her work. This Layla is very bold and affectionate to you, talkative too! Often she asks your opinion about her paper, and although you don't much about her study, you gave her the encouragement she needed.

Nightime Layla often asks for your blessing every time she is about to sleepwalk go outside. You often give her hugs and cheek kisses as a blessing. Once you gave her a mini dreamcatcher keychain with your feather on it, saying she could always ask for a new feather if the old one snapped, was dirty, or was missing...and she does. She keeps asking for another of your feather because somehow she lost it.

However, what you don't know is, she always keeps the keychain in pristine condition, she just likes to collect parts of you as a good luck charm!

Well....this often leads to Daytime Layla waking up to swan feathers in her closet and her desk drawer. She was confused but not thinking much of it. Instead, she uses the feathers to fill up her pillow fillings or quill.

Ah, somehow she always dreamt of you with this special pillow of hers. Hmm..can't have that..she misses you, welp! Time for another sleepover at your nest!

Al Haitham {Vulture Volans/White Backed Vulture}

So apparently, vultures often spread their wings wide to dry up their wings..and you learnt how wide vultures' wings are. How do you know? Well, this neighbour of yours, whose backyard is coincidentally facing the lake of your nest, often sunbathes his wings there near the lake whilst reading a book.

So, imagine your fear when a buff tall man of a carnivore bird with a stoic face just spreads his wings for an hour, sitting by the lake. You both just nod to each other in acknowledgement while you shake in fear, deciding not to swim that day.

You can tell he has a roommate, judging by the bickering noises and how there are extra shed feathers that aren't his. It is too soft and delicate to be Vultures. You wanted to bring it up to him as a worried neighbour, but you decided it will only make you a nosy one so you keep quiet, and keep greeting with nodding when you both meet by the lake.

Well, either he has sharp eyes or you are too obvious. One day he gave you some fruits and veggies along with small fish. You could tell he searched swan's diet, considering vulture's diet are all meat. "I apologize for any disturbance we may cause, my roommate and I are not on good terms as you can hear." his eyes glanced towards his nest. You waved your hand dismissively clearly not wanting to make things awkward, so you offered him to eat the stuff he gave to you together on your dock.

Well, his logical and rationality views on everything aside, his company is enjoyable. He is open to any perspective, even yours who isn't a scholar. He never belittles you if you awkwardly ask about some terms he had mentioned, you can see his eyes light up a bit as he enlightens you in detail to you, yet he also makes sure it isn't overwhelming.

Apparently, he prefers a quiet environment and so do you as a mute swan. You both often spend quality time together as neighbours with him reading books and sunbathing at your dock whilst you swim or float around on the lake.

Well, isn't this the domestic life he dreamt of?

Kaveh {Paradisaea/Paradise Bird}

Well, this is the bird that the vulture keeps talking about, though you didn't expect it is a bird known for its artistic side.

Paradise birds are known to be delicate and magnificent birds, the male all dance and sing and are pretty. Well, this one...surely a unique one. You first saw him when he stumped out Al-Haitham's nest all pent-up and angry, even his wings are all puffed out. You both had eye contact, his red orbs widen to see you so as to not make anything worse you swam away.

The next day, while you relax by the dock eating some fruits, you saw him carrying some wood and building materials into the nest. Whilst he is putting down the materials his eyes caught on your form, sitting by your dock with your cheeks puffed full of food. He smiled and waved then make a small jog towards you.

He introduced himself and apologize in advance if any of his model-building activity bothered you. You waved him off saying you spend your time teaching swimming to kids anyway. After giving him some of the fruits you eat, he excused himself and walks back towards Al Haitham's house //creak// well..until he stepped on a board on your dock that is loose. His architect side just crouches down and examines your dock, then offers you a free repair of your dock, oh he doesn't take no for his service alright.

Well, now there he is, on your dock doing a repairman job. Every time you want to help, he just told you to sit down all pretty. Just a feast for his eyes.

It is not just the dock he fixed. Even the decoration of your nest-exterior or interior- he gives suggestions and recommendations. Hell, he goes as far as making some bookshelves for you. In return, you listened to his rants about his roommate and offered him food since both of you has similar diet. Sometimes Al Haitham or Layla join in with the two of you.

Isn't he a creative man? he is able to turn the shed feathers into a dreamcatcher, keychain, and even earrings. Your white feathers and his brown-to-goldish one really give an elegant aesthetic. The thing you didn't know is that he has another pair of earrings from your feathers. He doesn't want to wear it since he will not hear the end of it from Al Haitham, plus it may make you uncomfortable although you have shown appreciation to all his crafts, even the small little things he made to your nests.

Well, for now, Kaveh can only help you with decorating your nest, next time, he will make sure to build a nest fit for you both together.

Fischl {Corvus/Raven}

(Note: I wrote this with platonic implications in my head, I am 22 and writing romantic stuff for her feels illegal to me// Oz and Fischl is like apes to human (totally different but has similarity))

Quite the eccentric one, isn't she? Mysterious, all-dark, and how she talks are all out of your dictionary, no worries, her loyal friend, Oz, is your saviour in communicating with her.

You knew her from your fellow swimming teacher, Mona, which Fischl often picks up after work. Whilst waiting for Mona packing up, you hit a conversation with her..which was...unique you can say. She spoke so politely and formally that you didn't know how to respond. Oz was there to translate her words (or simplify) and even then with him, you can //barely// hold onto a conversation with her.

Although she likes speaking in another' language' when you talk to her, her quirky personality and roleplaying with Oz always brighten up your day. Even if Mona can't clock in for the day, Fischl still go there to visit you. You often stay behind to make sure all kids got picked up by their parents and then enjoy the pool all by yourself, usually Fischl would take off her shoes and dangles her feet in the water whilst chatting with Oz and you.

Do you know how ravens remember the faces of people who feed them? Yeah, Fischl often payback your good deed 10 times bigger than what you have done. Like how you offered her some of your fist-sized bread whilst waiting for Mona and the next time you guys meet she gave you a whole-ass pie in return.

Her raven traits also showed up in her collecting shiny trinkets. The urge to hoard shiny things seems to override everything in her brain. She would stop and impulsively walk towards any shiny stuff she see and buy it, sometimes she and Oz would chatter about the trinkets collection with you-from delighted caw to sad croak from not being able to own any valuable stuff she saw.

You once asked her 'what's the best thing you have ever lied your eyes on?". Her light green eyes widened at your question, her hand went up to her chin and she thinks-even Oz made the same gesture, eye closed and humming. Fischl then answered, "Too precious that if I tell you, I'm afraid I will lose them." You giggled, amazed at her mystic answer. You express your curiosity to one day be able to see the thing she is talking about.

Must be so valuable and precious that she won't show it to you, huh? Well, it's not like she won't...But how does she show you to yourself?

#genshin x reader #imaginedraw #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #gender neutral reader #ayaka x reader #xiao x reader #layla x reader #kaveh x reader #alhaitham x reader #fischl genshin impact #fischl x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact

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bibleofficial · 2 years

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i HATE how sticky d8 concentrate is like bro 😭😭

#stream #i put used the cart w a dab cap & used a bubbler & literally the resin has made even the mouthpiece tacky #also i’ve been coughing so fuckign BAD for like 20 minutes #LIKE I KNOW THIS IS UNIQUE TO D8 #bc the CO LEGAL live resin i bought did NOT act even slightly like this #:(#ANYWAY #also my mother was like ‘this is ur smokers cough developing’ like no it’s not this is what happens when weed is illegal #i mean i would’ve just got my black market live resin carts like usual but i don’t want to drive that far ALSKALSKLALALLSLALA #im still high just obviously not AS high as i would be #truly id like to get my tolerance way back down bc how a 100mg edible still ain’t do that much for me 😭😭😭#anyway #ALSO i think idk maybe i’ll start using d8 edibles instead of wakenbake d9 everyday #i mean obviosuly this will be after i get my tolerance lowered lmfao #DabCap™: it’s a little funnel for ur mouth piece for vapes so u can use a cart w a bong or a bubbler or whatever so fills the bowl & u just #hold the cart upside down while holding the button #honestly i recommend using a smaller battery w it - u know the ones like the size of 2 AA batteries next to eachother

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riaki · 6 months

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an excuse to touch | suguru geto x reader

pt.2 of christmas event! cw: reader is kinda drunk, u and him have a bunkbed but he always sleeps w u on the lower bunk :3

not proofread

"su— guru!"

he knows that pitchy voice; a lilt to it that tells him you've been drinking. a slur that links your breathy words together like the taut strings of a spider's web that's so imperceptible that it would've been impossible to pick up, unless you were him. because suguru knows you better than anyone else.

you say his name weird, which means you've indulged on the bottle of liquor your next-door neighbor brought you that morning, wrapped in a pretty festive ribbon with a snowman drawn into the cork. "my son drew it," your neighbor had explained, and suguru wonders how good of a parent he is, to be letting his 6 year-old doodle on a bottle of wine.

he doesn't have time to concern himself with other people's lives, however. he has his hands full making sure you don't topple into the christmas tree you'd both worked your asses off to decorate last weekend when you stumble into the living room like you're walking on two left feet, threatening to trip over the cord connecting the soft yellow lights to the outlet in the wall. he distinctly remembers the argument you had last night— you thought rainbow lights would look nicer on the tree, but he liked just yellow. in the end, he'd gotten what he wanted— but there wasn't much to gain when you had stolen his sweater and refused to give it back as a vengeance. and now, he couldn't find it.

"right here," he calls, looking up at you from where he's seated on the couch in your living room. the little tv screen plastered to the wall has a fake fire playing over the screen; he knows you love the immersion, even if your apartment complex doesn't have a fireplace or a chimney.

you make your way over to his chair and promptly fall into his already-waiting arms. he pulls you flush to his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin and letting you snuggle up to him in his lap. his callused hand immediately snakes up your back to slip beneath your shirt, massaging your back. his embrace is warm; soft. and he smells good, like pine needles and something gently sweet, a little smoky.

soon, your hands find his hair, winding a trail up his neck to thread into the dark strands and pull out the tie. before you can move any further, though, a hand darts out to catch your wrist, and the other moves to tilt your chin up and force you to meet his stern gaze, warm like amber resin on the tree bark.

"[name], where's my sweater?" he asks, raising an accusatory eyebrow. just like that, you shrink away, and he smothers the snicker of amusement that threatens to spill out like hot cocoa with a hand over his lips.

you blink, and he watches your eyelashes flutter. they catch the fake firelight, glowing like billowing reeds under a bright sun in lakewater that reflects the summer sky. "i dunno." a blatant lie; obviously, you do know, because a bit of the red string has tangled in your hair. it was crocheted for him by a friend; you'd think a doctor would have good needle skills, but operating on a patient might be easier than operating on a DIY crocheting kit and a bundle of old string. nevertheless, he took the ugly christmas sweater and cherished it; the scent of cigarette smoke and faintly sterile tiles that clung to it.

but suguru was pretty sure that would soon be replaced by the scent of you, if you kept it much longer. not that he minded, of course.

"i, uh. dropped it. in the fire." you said bluntly, stubbornly weaving your hands into his hair and pulling out his hair tie insistently. a few strands caught; even as drunk as you were, you still took the time to smooth out the tangles so you didn't accidentally rip out a patch of his hair. crude as it was, suguru appreciates little things about you like that. not the fire part, though.

"you dropped it in the fire." he echoes, raising an eyebrow. it feels condescending in a very suguru (read: affectionate) way, so you look away, lower lip sticking out. he thinks that just makes you cuter, though; you look like something straight out of his dreams. he can barely bring himself to be irritated.

"um, yeah."

"so.. it burned up?"

"yes."

"you don't have it anymore."

"no, i don't."

"the fire isn't real," he reminds you quietly; softly if you strain your ears.

"but it's so warm over here. and nice, and cozy. what else could it be?" you protested, flailing your arms as if hitting him would force him to reconcile with your beliefs. suguru just opts to lean away from you, an amused and easy smile on his lips. like he's looking at you in adoration; like you're still the one who was molded from clay to fit in his arms even though you supposedly 'burned' his sweater up.

"not sure," he hums, watching as you stand up on two shaky legs like a newborn doe away from its mother's side; the soft glow from the light of the christmas tree gently illuminating your frame. he wishes he could tug you back by the wrist and kiss you breathless, run his hands over you ever lovingly. "you're just like my personal little space heater." he chuckles, soft smooth and melodic, and it snaps you from your tipsiness as you glance back over at him. “fools me into thinking the fire’s real.”

his hair is loose, tumbling over his shoulders and framing his face like a renaissance prince under the soft light; the brown of his eye shines a gentle caramel, soft and smooth as butter and syrup. there’s an easy smile that curves his lips up; he looks unfairly handsome. he thinks he can catch sight of his reflection in the void of your pupil; it looks like there's a birdnest on his head. he frowns, reaching a hand up to muss the tangled black strands. the windows in the living room are vignetted by a frosted glass, a cold world of white waiting outside. it's almost enough to make him shiver, but here, in the warmth of your presence, the snow melts away with the sunshine of your smile.

his fingers catch in his hair and he lets out a pained grunt. he's straightening his bangs when he looks up from his comfy seat on the couch; you're across the room, sitting on the soft wool carpet. there's a stain on the bundles of fluff, constantly hanging over the both of your heads to remind you of how you'd been enjoying a shared cup of hot cocoa with candy cane chunks when your nasty feline sauntered over and promptly jumped into your lap yet again, knocking over the mug and pouring its terribly sweet and sticky contents onto the wool. it had haunted suguru's domestic household nightmares for days after. your evil cat is curled up in your lap, fluffy mitten paws tucked beneath its head as it naps, and suguru doesn't like the flare of jealousy that springs up in his gut.

you catch the look of disdain on his face and shoot him a lazy smile, tilting your head. it's an invitation if he's ever seen one-- deserved, he thinks to himself. that should be him with his head in your lap, your hands in his hair, smoothing out each individual knot, gently massaging his scalp in the way you knew he loved.

...

he shakes his head and stands, brushing the lint (and cat fur— always a pest) off his sweats and saunters over to you; there's that familiar gait in his step from always walking hunched over during his earlier years of youth. sometimes, you'll build a little pillow fort on your bunk bed and settle in his arms between his legs and listen to him tell you stories from a time that seems so long ago but so fresh like new mint leaves in his memory. he'll play with your clothes, bury his nose in your hair and breathe in the scent of home and something like apples and cinnamon in your shampoo. those fun little story nights are always enjoyable, only because he has the best audience.

he squats down, balancing his elbows on his knees as he peers down at you. your cat in your lap lifts its head, looking like the very dictionary definition of judgmental as it squints at suguru. you just laugh, like silver bells clear in a snowstorm, parting the howling wind as if it's the red sea. paving a path straight through the center of his heart like some cursed cupid's arrow.

he doesn’t mind, though, when you scoot your cat off your lap and open your arms wordlessly. he scoots a little closer before settling into you, back flush against his chest as your arms lock around his waist. you rest your chin on his shoulder and he can’t help the rush of butterflies in his stomach; suguru’s never been the type for this sort of girlish, giddy love. but you always bring new things to the table, don’t you? he loves that about you.

suguru settles into your arms, tilting his head to intercept the kiss he knows you’re about to plant to his cheek to instead meet your lips with his, and he swallows and relishes the little surprised gasp that leaves you when he does. a moment later, he hears a pretty little giddy laugh, and he can’t fight the smile that spreads over his lips.

"you're so soft," he whispers, and it's much more exhausted than he thinks it has any right to be, on such a comforting night like this when your laugh smells of sweet liquor wrapped in chocolate and you serve as good of a sweater as any clearance sale item could.

and soon enough, your fingers slide into his hair, separating soft dark strands like you're organizing a collection of seashells. it takes him a while to notice, but he soon realizes you're braiding his hair. the wind howls outside and the fake fire doesn't provide any heat, but your gentle touch and warmth feel like a cozy throw blanket hanging around his shoulders. and he feels okay now; with the way you run your fingers through his hair, delicately gathering the strands from his hair and running a thumb down the length to smooth the knots, weaving them together like a natural crown of holly flowers.

you brush a stray strand from the nape of his neck, and he shivers when your fingertips brush against the tip of his ear. he can't help but smile when you notice the goosebumps on his bare arms and free one hand to reach for his, tangling your fingers together while you untangle the mats in his hair. it's far too cold for him to be wearing that simple, worn white cotton shirt, but he doesn't mind if you'll be the one to keep him warm through this cold season.

it's all fine and dandy until he speaks up again, when you're nearly falling asleep over his head and your arms drape over his chest, toying with the sapphire necklace around his neck. your little cute breaths tickle the top of his head; you've finished the braid. it's a little messy and stray hairs stick out here and there— but at least you didn't settle for pigtails.

when he speaks, it's not directed towards you, though— he's speaking to your cat, with a stern tone you only recognize as the one he uses with you whenever your clothes end up on his side of the drawer or when his jewelry (or hairties) go missing.

and when you open your eyes groggily after suguru shifts to sit up, feeling the dreary loom of a mini hangover after you fall asleep in his arms tonight— you're blessed with the sight of your beloved house pet— a shredded chunk of tacky fabric from suguru's sweater in its mouth, and the death glare that you can only imagine contorting your handsome boyfriend's face.

needless to say, your cat will be nowhere around the two of you when you decide to share a therapeutic cup of hot cocoa again this time.

my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

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keeksandgigz · 4 months

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the witch hunt

eddie munson x witch!reader

part 2 of "the love witch"

Summary: You've been good about keeping your magic a secret from Eddie, much to your dismay, so diligent on hiding your true self. What happens when you leave your potion cabinet unattended, he drinks one of your concoctions and turns himself into stone, leaving you to turn him back, right in front of his eyes?

CW: 5k words, no y/n, reader's nickname is 'witchy' , talk of the occult, wiccan practices, description of r's clothing, but no body description, eddie turns to stone, angsty angst angst but with a happy ending, witchy casts some serious spells in this one, mentions of witchy being depressed, eddie being a lovesick fool

thank u to my lovely @reidsbtch for beta reading I love u I love u I love u

Read part 1 here, Witchyverse masterpost here

feedback is always appreciated!

You've been good. You've been diligent. You've been following the rules of the coven.

To not share the gift with anyone, a secret kept under oath, hand over the binding of an old spell book, its surface course and rough, centuries of hands- young, old, powerful and weak, all part of the history of how that book came to be.

When you started dating Eddie, you were summoned, warned by your coven to keep the magic away from your human boyfriend, hidden under a veil of thin shame disguised as indifference.

And six months went by, then a year. You thought you were safe, you thought you'd gotten through the worst part of keeping the secret.

You deluded yourself. He loves you so much, there's no reason he would leave you, not even for a secret as big as yours. You've put protection spells around everything that involved actual magic in your house, the potion cabinet you kept in the hallways as decoration, the spell books hidden under a floorboard in your room.

Although he could not feel it, your apartment pulsated with raw magical energy in its purest form. You really thought you were safe.

A rainy November afternoon, you're tasked to bring some ingredients you've had stashed at your apartment to your aunt Hilda's house, a delivery from Janice- ingredients from Bulgaria, after your shift.

What surprises you about your aunt Hilda is that despite being a witch, she does not go unnoticed- living in one of the Painted Ladies house in the heart of San Francisco, all by herself and her cat, Arsenio.

She always invites you in for tea and a reading, so you step into her house, smelling of antique parchment, tea leaves and a mystical smell of pungent resin and wood, much different from your incense and dried flowers smell.

"I need to invite Janice over one of these days" she says in her veiled voice, pouring you a cup of jasmine tea.

"I don't know if she's going to be able to get out of Haight Ashbury, Aunt Hilda. She's like two- hundred years old or something" you laugh, rummaging through your bag for the delivery you visited your aunt for, placing the jars on the table.

She gasps in delight "You can't get those plants anywhere else, she must have paid a fortune for that blood from a vampire's fangs" she squeals, running to her cabinet to find a home for her new deliveries.

"How's your human, dear?" she asks from the kitchen, followed by clattering of glass and metal.

"Oh, Eddie's fine, he should be off work soon, maybe we'll do something after" you shrug, petting her cat, Arsenio, on your lap.

"And his handsome hunk of an uncle?" you roll your eyes at that.

"God, Aunt Hilda, gross" you groan, sinking in your seat.

"Let me know when he's back in town, I need to invite them both over one of these days, it might be nice. Shall we do a reading before I leave?" she sits back down at the small table and takes a sip of her tea, tarot cards in hand.

"Yeah, I'll ask him for his schedule" you finish your tea "Let me do a one card pull, I need to get home"

"You know, dear, you've been awfully nervous lately- so jumpy" She says, as she shuffles the laminated cards for what feels like forever,

"I'm okay, Aunt Hilda, just stressed with work" you lie, exhaling with anticipation as her wrinkled hand holds the deck. Your aunt's readings have always made you nervous.

You'd been jumpy for a while, the thought of Eddie finding out had been making you nervous, but you wouldn't dare to tell your aunt that.

She offers the deck to you, you pick a card and then give it to her. A gasp escapes her upon looking at it.

A panic rises through your body "What? What is it?" you ask, your bag already across your shoulder, holding on to its strap.

"The Tower" she mutters, destruction, unexpected change, awakening.

A shiver runs down your spine, one by one your vertebrae straighten "I just had a really bad feeling, dear. I would check in on your human boy" she places a hand on her temple, heart racing as you bolt out of your seat and leave.

On the train, panic settles in, wondering if Eddie was somehow connected to this.

A call startles you. It's him.

You tremble when nearing the phone to your ear.

"Hey, witchy, I'm at your house- I used the spare key. I just called 'cause I had a question" he says, voice dubious and vague.

"What is it, Ed? I'm on my way home"

"I was just wondering if it's normal that the cabinet in your hallway is open? I had to stop Circe from getting into it a couple times" you hear a meowing in the background, he must be holding her.

"What cabinet?" you feel your chest rise and fall at an incredibly fast pace.

"The one with the wilted flowers on them, it has a bunch of bottles. Are- are these fake potions?" There's an amused lilt in his voice, almost as if he's laughing at you. Fuck. The potion cabinet.

"Eddie don't touch anything, I'm literally here" your alarmed tone freaks him out, but he has no time to say anything as you hang up and enter your apartment building.

You run up the stairs, heart in your throat, as you reach your front door and slam it open. Eddie's head swings violently.

"Hey, witchy, what's wrong?" he stands up from the cabinet, holding Circe on one arm. You're heaving, irregular breaths, as you see he's still standing, alive, and breathing.

You close the door. "You didn't touch anything in there, did you?" you run towards the open cabinet, checking for missing bottles.

"Witchy, honey, I don't get why you're so jumpy about a couple of fake potions, they would actually be really useful for DnD" Eddie chuckles, reaching into the cabinet to grab a bottle, observing it up close. A greyish- blue liquid swirls inside the bottle.

"Eddie! Put it back! It's dangerous!" you exclaim as you reach for the bottle, but he's blocking you.

"Baby, I think you might be getting a little too carried away with this witchy stuff. There's no way you should be reacting like this over some water and dye" he swirls the bottle once again "I'll even drink it, show you it's not actually that dangerous"

A smug smile adorns his lips, as you watch helplessly while he uncorks the small vial and downs its content.

“EDDIE NO” You aren’t even sure what it is, which makes a panic set into your stomach, hoping you could reverse whatever he ingested.

“No, no, no, no, what have you done?” your head encapsulated in your hands, feeling the beady sweat on your hairline, falling to your knees with the realization. You’re going to have to tell him.

“See? Not dangerous, baby. I love you, but you need to do something about this obsession, it’s getting out of hand” he sighs “I’m hungry i’m gonna get some food” but before he can even take a step, the rumbling of stone fills the room.

You grab the empty glass vial and examine its label. Shit. He turned himself to stone.

In a panic, he looks at you.

“Witchy, what’s going on?” his eyes dart from you to his frozen legs, the stone spreading itself upward quickly “Witch-what- is that stone?” He goes still after that.

A statue. His cold, grey eyes staring up at you in a panic.

Tears brimming your eyes at the sudden realization that once you turn him back to normal he’s going to know.

His hands feel cold at the touch as you cling on to your boyfriend’s statued form. Mouth agape, eyebrows pinched in fear, it hurt you to see him like this. You were going to lose it all because of a dumb mistake.

A desperate scream bubbles inside your chest as you hold yourself flush against Eddie’s cold surface, wishing his arms could hug you back, having to come to terms with the fact that this is probably the last time you’ll ever see him in your home. You won’t ever get to hold him again.

Weak and teary- eyed you reach for your phone, wiping under your eyes as you try to stabilize yourself.

“Hello, dear?” aunt Hilda says through the phone.

“Aunt Hilda I made a really terrible mistake” you sob, shoulders shaking with the violence of your hiccups.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” the concern is palpable through her voice.

“I left- left my potion cabinet open and Eddie-” another string of violent sobs follow, rumbled deep in your chest, shaking you to your very core.

“What happened to Eddie?” The question is cautious, though unfortunately you could feel the alarm and sternness in her voice.

“He turned to stone” you sigh, exasperated, letting yourself sink into the sofa.

“Stone? How did a human man turn to stone?” ever the help, your aunt exclaims.

A dramatic exhale you feel like you’ve been holding onto “I left my potion cabinet open and he- and he has a spare key” you sob- all your fault for letting your guard down, all your fault for letting yourself care for him so mindlessly.

“He got into it thinking they were all fake, I tried to- to stop him” a siffle stops you “he was trying to be funny” a string of sobs followed, unable to speak any longer.

“You need to pull yourself together,” Hilda says, amidst your inconsolable sobs “you know how to reverse this” her voice is stern, yet shaky, she feels for you, having to let your love go.

“The mirror” you mumble.

“That’s right, get a mirror- circle of reflection, circle of protection” she reminds you “repeat those words, he’ll be okay, dear” you can tell that she is hurting, breaking the law of your coven, making you face consequences you haven't even thought of.

Would you be losing your power? Would you have to move away from him? In hindsight that would be a blessing, as you doubt he would want to stay, now that your secret is uncovered.

Hilda hangs up the phone as you scramble to get a mirror, and smear salt over his heart. Trying to reverse the spell that might have broken it.

The mirror faces your boyfriend, his features grey and scared- the last time you’ll ever see him in this lifetime.

Circle of reflection, circle of protection

The hand that is not holding the mirror is clutched on tightly to his chest, as you keep repeating the words.

The sound of rubble breaking makes your heart wrench, selfishly wanting him to stay a statue for a little longer, so you won’t have to say goodbye to him just yet, but the stone armor sheds, and his eyes are brown instead of dull and grey, and his arms move, as well as his mouth, closing in itself, breathing as if he’s come to life for the first time.

He rubs his eyes first, drowsy, like waking up from a one- hundred year old slumber. He looks around the room, it’s familiar to him, the smell of incense that was there, and then it wasn’t, blocked by the earthy smell of rubble and earth.

“What happened?” he mumbles, shaking his stiff limbs, kicking the broken suit of stone armor at his feet, your hand still on his heart “Witchy?”

His eyes are blown wide, memories of what had happened an hour before coming to the surface. The same panicked look adorns his face.

“The potion- it wasn’t” he begins, as you move your hand off of his body, much to your heart’s dismay. You shake your head.

“It wasn’t fake. None of them are fake” you mutter, staring at the floor, not even daring to look at him. There’s a quiet tension, an almost awkward silence, charged with pain and heartbreak, as Eddie realizes what you mean by ‘not fake.’

“And you brought me back from whatever I turned into” he breathes.

You just nod, head fixated on the floorboards and the rubble surrounding his feet.

“Does that make you-” he gulps. Can’t even bring himself to say it.

“A witch” you mumble under your breath “a real one,” your gaze falls on his eyes, dilated and sad, as his eyebrows curve up, a line forming on the bridge of his nose.

There’s once again an unsettling quiet between you two, as he tries to wrap his head around the news.

His chest feels hollow, where your hand had been just moments before, an unrecognizable phantom pressing down on his heart, rubbing salt in a gashing wound, hoping it would ameliorate it, only to make it bleed more.

He takes a few steps back, watching his step over the rubble, breaking his silence after what feels like hours.

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” it’s a mere mumble, but the question was clear, hurt, and a little scared, maybe.

“I swore under oath that I would keep it a secret” you purse your lips, taking a step forward. Your heart shatters when he takes a step back.

His chest is stilled, breath caught in his throat, hands at his sides as he scoffs.

“You swore you’d keep it a secret? Is that why you’ve been so jumpy lately? You knew I was bound to find out and you didn’t tell me?” his head is reeling, betrayal cuts through him like a knife as more and more of looking at you twists the dagger in his chest.

“I didn’t want you to find out, Ed. I promised to my coven-”

“Your coven? There’s more of you?” you can’t do anything else but swallow on the knot in your throat, scratching and engorging with every word that comes out of Eddie’s mouth, and nod.

“And you let me drink the potion, God knows what it could have been” he trembles, a shaky breath escapes him.

“I tried to stop you, Eddie!” you reach for him, hanging on the feeble hope he’ll realize that you have never meant to hurt him in the first place.

“And- and what if you spelled me, huh? What if you spelled me to make me fall in love with you? Is my love for you not real?” that hurt you more than anything else he could have said, tears brimming your eyes, escaping from their confinement as they streak down your cheeks.

“I’ve never used my magic on you,” you admit, voice thick with salty tears “my love for you is real, as yours is. I never tampered with your heart, it’s not who I am” bottom lip jutted out and trembling, feeling on the teetering edge of the end.

“I don’t know who you are” a stab to the heart would have hurt less. “You’ve been lying to me for the past year about who you are. No wonder I was so in love with you, you made me fall in love with a person that doesn’t exist, you spelled me!” he’s trembling, you can see it in the way that his fists are balled up– something he does to stabilize himself whenever he’s upset.

And now he’s upset because of you.

“Eddie–” you take a step forward, he takes a step back.

“No. Don’t- don’t come closer.” tears well at the bottom of your lash line, as you watch him turn away, leave and close the door behind him. Words trapped at the bottom of your throat. Words you’ll never get to say again.

You’re not sure how long you stand there, staring at the doorknob, hoping that it might turn, revealing Eddie once again, ready for you to explain everything to him.

But the doorknob doesn’t turn, the door doesn’t open, and Eddie doesn’t come back.

You refuse to sweep the rubble from the last time he was in your apartment, hoping that the smell of him stuck to the cold stone, but there’s nothing left of him in your space.

The thing about love witches is that when the thing most precious to them, their hearts, break, the life force of their power fades.

So within a short span of days, you notice yourself being weakened. Simple spells become a hard feat, as you can barely make things levitate, sitting in the darkness of your room.

Days begin to merge into themselves, as you get yourself to work, then home, then work, then home. A repeating cycle you don’t intend to stop. You leave around the back side of the store, to not let Eddie see you while he’s on his smoke break, blending into the crowded streets of what once seemed like the best place in the world.

Your aunt Hilda doesn’t hear from you, and neither does anyone else. You fall off the face of the earth, hoping that your hours never coincide with Eddie’s.

But you can feel it from next door, the pain and hurt that radiates from the record store. You feel it in the way he speaks to customers, in the way he sighs as he gets off his smoke break.

You hear him ask Janice about you, she tells him that she doesn’t know, that she hasn’t seen you in a while. Respecting your wishes to let him live his life in peace.

But he wasn’t living his life in peace. In fact, Eddie was miserable.

He was miserable in the way that everything reminded him of you, in the way that if he stepped too close to your store (to make sure you were working that day), he’d smell the rose incense you’d light at your house. The one he would smell on your clothes.

The crystals that sat on his windowsill were now tightly packed and shoved away on a far up shelf that he would not be reminded of you. He burned every trace of you, the taste of betrayal bitter in his throat as he sat on his couch every night, always on the left side, because you sat on the right. A place for you was always carved in his mind, whether it was unconscious or intentional.

The smell of your shampoo lingers in the pink bottles in his shower, in the silk pillow you always slept on when you went over to his house. A silk shirt you left on his bed, gingerly placed on his pillow as he lets your smell engulf him. That’s the only way he can sleep.

There’s a fear deeply setting in, that he might just never be able to get over you. Despite the lies and the secrets, he will never be able to not think about you, not when the smell of rose incense or the color pink exist, not when long skirts and crystals and tarot cards and brocade rugs exist. Not when you exist. Not when you keep walking the earth, sadness seeping in every crevice and every crack of his walls.

He knows he can’t go on like this. Not while you roam the same streets he roams, waiting for you to turn around. Look at me, witchy, look at me.

And you’re so sad. He can see it in your eyes, in the way you don’t carry yourself like you used to– shoulders slouched, dressed in black like you’re mourning the loss of your heart. Mourning the loss of your love.

He debates going back to Hawkins for a bit. Going back to live with his uncle– leave this new world behind, just until the air has been purified of you. Until he’s no longer thinking about the witchy girl who haunts his dreams at night. Go work where his friend Steve works at, shitty, dead- end job, just for a bit.

Confine himself to the life of a hermit, just so he can allow you to live in peace.

So he goes back to Hawkins, under the guise of going home for the holidays. He picks up whatever jobs his uncle can’t do anymore because of his age, driving the beat up yellow pick- up truck in and out of town.

“I never thought I’d see the day Munson would come crawling back” he’d hear a couple of people say on the street. He’s never gone unnoticed, but now more so than before– integrated in the San Francisco scene, he did anything but blend in. And he swears he sees you a few times, walking around downtown Hawkins, your hair, your clothes, your bag. Prancing around like your life is back to normal.

Could it have been a spell? Did you spell him to not make him forget about you?

But he knows it isn’t like you. Not malicious, not even as a witch, he assumes.

He keeps himself up at night thinking about you. You’d never use magic on him. With a sound mind, he tells himself that’s true. Your love for him is real. Is his love for you real? Shivering in the freezing temperature of his uncle’s trailer he’d ponder whether what you had was real or not.

Real.

He drives himself crazy, the thought of you plaguing his mind.

Even his uncle grows worried, the purple bags under his nephew’s eyes, all the books on witchcraft Eddie could find at the Hawkins local library sitting on his desk. Staying up to read on anything and everything that could help him.

And when that doesn’t work he goes on his uncle’s shitty wifi he never uses to research anything about witches, about magic, about you.

You don’t sense him anymore. Not through the walls, not in his sardonic laugh. It’s like he’d vanished into thin air.

You find yourself stepping into the record store after a shift, asking his shitty coworkers what happened to Eddie.

And you’re so weak. So tired, it is even a feat to be able to make it through one full shift standing up, finding a stool to sit on. You’ve paled, eyes dark and lifeless.

“He’s gone back home for the holidays” one of the assholes who made fun of you says “left you stranded here all by yourself? Or did he kick you to the curb?” he smirks, and the other idiot laughs. You make a mental note to hex them for good next time.

If you don’t die first.

Eddie comes back to San Francisco after the holidays, and it’s like he’s never left.

Union Square has taken off the tree and the ice skating rink– he wanted to take you there. He thought you’d be good at ice skating. You’re good at everything. Or maybe it’s because you’re magic.

The restaurant you went to on your first date has closed down. There’s a smile creeping on his face as he remembers you laughing because he couldn’t eat with chopsticks. He misses hearing you laugh. He misses seeing you smile.

The tiny twinkle, the stars in your eyes. The way he’d braid your hair at night. Petting Circe, nestled in between you two in your bed.

He sees you for the first time since he’s been back on the porch of your shop. His heart shrinks at the sight of you. Eyes sunken in, buried in layers and layers of woolen fabric, staring blankly at the street in front of you.

The thing about love witches is that when the thing most precious to them, their hearts, break, the life force of their power fades.

He remembers reading that in an old looking book during the holidays. He wrote it down in his notebook.

A love witch. Thrives on being loved and being in love.

Her heart is only safe when her love is true and unfettered.

He sees it now.

He shows up to your house after talking himself into it for a week, with the excuse of returning a shirt. The same silk shirt he’d been sleeping on top of since he left you. He had it washed for you. It doesn’t smell like you anymore.

He knocks. Is it him or are his hands always that sweaty? Is his heart beating at a normal pace? Is his hair okay? And his breath? Oh shit, he has a zit on his chin.

“Go away Aunt Hilda!” he hears you say, grumpy and grouchy. The veiled sadness in your voice creates a rift between him and the door.

So he knocks. Again. And Again.

“Aunt Hilda I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, I don’t want– Eddie” A breath gets trapped in your diaphragm, feeling your heart start picking up its pace for the first time in what felt like weeks.

“Hi” he gives you a tight smile, the silk balled up in a fist, purple with little black swirls on it.

“Hi, um, I– what are you doing here? Do you wanna come in?” you slither like a worm, that’s how you feel. The boy you’ve been pining and crying and suffering for is here. Right in front of you.

You look so much more frail than he’d remembered “I uh–” he holds up the fabric “you left this at my house”

“Oh, thanks. That’s sweet of you” Your heart drops, you really thought he was going to make amends with you?

You extend your arm, so he can give the shirt to you. So he can be on his way and be gone forever.

Hands, fingers, knuckles. He misses holding your hand.

“I heard you went home for the holidays, how was that?” you lean on the doorframe, hands crossed on your chest.

“It was good, I just spent it with my uncle. He told me to tell you happy new year, uh— even though we’re not—” he shouldn’t have said the last part, he sees you sink into yourself, gazing down at the hardwood floor. His stomach twists.

“What did you do for the holidays?” he asks. He doesn’t want it to be over, not yet.

“I just stayed in, I’ve been pretty sick lately, flu season in full swing. I’ve just been—”

“Your heart’s broken, isn’t it? That’s why you’ve been so sick?” your heart drops. How does he know all this?

He reads your puzzled expression “I um— did some research. That’s what I did most of my holidays. I just wanted to understand. I know you didn’t spell me, or whatever. You’re a love witch” he takes out a piece of paper, highlighted is a sentence, in light pink.

Her heart is only safe when her love is true and unfettered.

Your head is reeling, he hasn’t stopped thinking about you. He spent his holidays researching you, your kind. He knows you didn’t lie to him.

Tears begin to spill onto the old parchment, the tears you haven’t shed in the past two months resurfacing, as you violently jerk and sob in front of him. You missed him.

Eddie quickly steps into your apartment and closes the door, enveloping you in a hug. And it feels good for your heart, a soothing balm for all the cracks and wounds it’s suffered.

“It’s okay, witchy, you can let it out” he says, as you continue to sob on his shoulder. Soft shushing sounds as he caresses your hair “Shhh…shhh… I’ve got you” and it’s like he’s never left.

“I’m here now, I’m not leaving” his assurance makes your body feel whole again. He sits you both down on the couch.

“Witchy, I didn’t stop thinking about you for a second. I would see you everywhere, I thought I was going crazy” he begins, and maybe he sees a twinkle in your eye, something weak, almost like a heartbeat being revived.

“I thought going to Hawkins, just to distance myself would change things. But I’d keep myself awake thinking about you, all the time, wondering if you were doing okay.” His hand brushes yours, as you wipe your tears with the sleeve of your sweater.

“I would see you at work, or out and about and you looked so sad. And I just couldn’t explain to myself what happened to you, until I came across that book” he finishes.

And in turn, you don’t say anything, you just kiss him. It’s wet and messy with the tears and the saliva, but he immediately kisses you back, cradling your face in his hand. Your heart beats faster than it has in a while, and it’s like magically, your skin has a bit more color to it.

And Eddie sees the stars in your eyes again.

When you detach you just lay your head on his chest. You listen for his heartbeat, lulling you into a deep sleep, the best sleep you’ve had in two months. He follows you not soon after, Circe on his lap, as he falls into slumber with a peaceful smile on his face.

Once awoken from your sleep, you go make a cup of tea for the both of you.

“Witchy?” your head lifts at the nickname as you pour him his tea.

“So, are you a witch, a mage or a sorceress?”

You just roll your eyes and kiss him again.

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