#❛ 、 character. ╱ the rumors are terrible and cruel but honey most of them are true. ❜ ≽

[midnightstargazer]

Taylor Swift lyrics for the Marauders Era characters

James

The tricky thing is yesterday, we were just children, playing soldiers, just pretending, dreaming dreams with happy endings

It turned into something bigger, somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

Lily

So you were never a saint, and I've loved in shades of wrong, we learn to live with the pain, mosaic broken hearts, but this love is brave and wild

The whole school is rolling fake dice, you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes

Your little hand's wrapped around my finger, and it's so quiet in the world tonight

Sirius

I've been meaning to tell you, I think your house is haunted, your dad is always mad, and that must be why

I rewind the tape, but all it does is pause on the very moment all was lost, sending signals to be double-crossed

Sometimes giving up is the strong thing, sometimes to run is the brave thing, sometimes walking out is the one thing that will find you the right thing

Remus

You drew stars around my scars, but now I'm bleeding

You knew the hero died, so what's the movie for? You knew it still hurts underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart

I've been having a hard time adjusting, had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting

Peter

We were jet-set, Bonnie and Clyde, until I switched to the other side, it's no surprise I turned you in, 'cause us traitors never win

Narcissa

I want you to know, I'm a mirrorball, I could change everything about me to fit in

And I feel my castles crumbling down, and I watch all my bridges burn to the ground, and you don't want to know me, I will just let you down, you don't want to know me now

Andromeda

Holding my breath, slowly, I said, you don't need to save me, but would you run away with me?

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

And I can still see it all in my mind, all of you, all of me, intertwined, I once believed love would be black and white, but it's golden

Bellatrix

They say I did something bad, then why's it feel so good?

The rumors are terrible and cruel, but honey, most of them are true

Regulus

When I was drowning, that's when I could finally breathe

And now that I'm grown, I'm scared of ghosts, memories feel like weapons, and now that I know, I wish you'd left me wondering

I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone

Snape

I don't trust nobody, and nobody trusts me

All these people think love's for show, but I would die for you in secret

You're on your own, kid, you always have been

[imecliptic]

since i’m having an inheritance games brainrot currently, i decided to throw together taylor swift songs/lyrics that i thought fit the characters. it was actually really hard but i’d totally do it again-

Avery Kylie Grambs: …Ready For It? - “Knew he was a killer first time that I saw him. Wonder how many girls he had loved and left haunted. But if he's a ghost, then I can be a phantom, holdin' him for ransom.”

Libby Grambs: Tied Together With A Smile(I also really considered Begin Again) - “I guess it's true that love was all you wanted, 'cause you're givin' it away like it's extra change, hoping it will end up in his pocket, but he leaves you out like a penny in the rain.”

Nash Westbrook Hawthorne: Fearless - “We're drivin' down the road, I wonder if you know I'm tryin' so hard not to get caught up now. But you're just so cool, run your hands through your hair. Absentmindedly makin' me want you.”

Grayson Davenport Hawthorne: cardigan - “You drew stars around my scars, but now I'm bleedin'. 'Cause I knew you, steppin' on the last train, marked me like a bloodstain, I- I knew you tried to change the ending; Peter losing Wendy.”

Jameson Winchester Hawthorne: Mine - “Do you remember, we were sittin', there by the water? You put your arm around me for the first time. You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter. You are the best thing, that's ever been mine.”

Alexander Blackwood Hawthorne: The Archer - “I've been the archer, I've been the prey. Who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay?”

Tobias Tattersall Hawthorne: Mastermind - “What if I told you none of it was accidental? And the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me? I laid the groundwork and then, just like clockwork the dominoes cascaded in a line. What if I told you I'm a mastermind?”

Skye Hawthorne: the last great american dynasty - “‘There goes the last great American dynasty’ ‘Who knows if she never showed up, what could've been’ ‘There goes the most shameless woman this town has ever seen’ ‘She had a marvelous time ruinin' everything’.”

Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris: Better Than Revenge - “I had it all I had him right there where I wanted him. She came along, got him alone, and let's hear the applause; She took him faster than you could say ‘sabotage’.”

Toby Hawthorne: closure - “Don't treat me like some situation that needs to be handled. I'm fine with my spite, and my tears, and my beers and my candles. I can feel you smoothing me over”

Pearl O’day: no body, no crime - “She thinks I did it but she just can't prove it. No, no body, no crime. I wasn't letting up until the day he… died.”

Alisa Ortega: Midnight Rain - He was sunshine, I was midnight rain. He wanted comfortable, I wanted that pain. He wanted a bride, I was making my own name.”

Maxine Liu: dorothea - “You got shiny friends since you left town, a tiny screen's the only place I see you now, and I got nothing but well wishes for ya.”

Thea Calligaris: New Romantics - “We need love, but all we want is danger. We team up, then switch sides like a record changer. The rumors are terrible and cruel; But honey, most of them are true.”

Rebecca Laughlin: tolerate it - “I greet you with a battle hero's welcome. I take your indiscretions all in good fun. I sit and listen, I polish plates until they gleam and glisten. You're so much older and wiser and I.”

Emily Laughlin: Wildest Dreams - “Say you'll remember me, standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset, babe. Red lips and rosy cheeks; Say you'll see me again, even if it's just in your wildest dreams.”

[taylorgrape]

Ryan's Characters as Taylor Swift Songs

I am so sorry. @rumor-weed

AUDREY "RUMOR" WEED AS NEW ROMANTICS "The rumors are terrible and cruel but honey most of them are true." I'm gonna be so real the above lyric was such a big part of me picking this as a song for her lmao. But also it's just sorta a vibey bop and the general energy of it reminds me so much of Audrey which obviously we love. Other notable lyrics that give me Audrey vibes: "We play dumb but we know exactly what we're doing" "It's poker, he can't see it on my face but I'm about to play my ace." "We team up then switch sides like a record changer."

BARTLEBEY THE BUTLER AS TIMELESS "Time breaks down your mind and body, don't you let it touch your soul." Bartlebey is Timeless for two reasons. One, is, of course, the fact that Ryan and I are constantly pushing the narrative of Pincherbey are in love in every single universe and timeline. The other reason is that we don't know if he belongs in this timeline at all or what his like... whole deal is in any regard. And for that reason it is very funny to just say "Bartlebey is Timeless." Other notable lyrics that give me Bartlebey vibes: "And somehow I know that you and I would've found each other." "I thought about it as I started lookin' 'round at these precious things that time forgot." "We'll have a cardboard box of photos of the life we've made, and you'll say, 'Oh my, we really were timeless'."

PHIL WINKLESTEIN AS TEARDROPS ON MY GUITAR "The only thing that keeps me wishing on a wishing star." King of yearning ofc gets the yearning song of all time. Honestly listening to this song and thinking abt the musical situation with Bob and everything just came together. My mans is so in his feelings and if he has a guitar (which he might I'm not caught up on the Phillip lore) I just know that mf would have teardrops on it. Other notable lyrics that give me Phil vibes: "I wonder if he knows he's all I think about at night" "So I drive home alone, as I turn out the light, I'll put his picture down and maybe get some sleep tonight." "The only one who's got enough of me to break my heart"

PETER PEPPARAZZI AS EYES OPEN "So here you are, two steps ahead and staying on guard." Ofc Mr. Pepparazzi is the song abt how everyone is watching you. Because my mans is the one watching!! He is the 'everyone' referenced in lyrics below. King of being nosy fr. I really do not have much to say past that bc I love that this is just how he be. Other notable lyrics that give me Peter vibes: "Everybody's waiting for you to break down" "Everybody's watching to see the fallout" "And nobody comes to save you now."

LOVEY ASPARAGUS AS I DID SOMETHING BAD "I don't regret it one bit 'cause he had it comin'." Miss I killed my husband is obviously this song are you KIDDINGGG literally I could just list every single lyric in this song and it would be correct. She's a baddie and even tho she did in fact kill her husband she's kind of a feminist icon for that. He deserved it and I'm glad she did it. Other notable lyrics that give me Lovey vibes: "Most fun I ever had and I'd do it over and over and over again if I could." "They never see it coming what I do next." "They're burning all the witches even if you aren't one, so light me up."

NEBBY K NEZZER AS YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN "And snakes and stones never broke my bones." hear me out hear mE OUT- my man has dealt with far too much shit he's done his time... and he's surrounded by well... we know them. He's just done and that is DESERVED. Also, of course I am slightly biased but this is such him and his stupid high school glee rival energy. PLUSSS (as listed below) 'shade never made anybody less gay' ARE YOU KIDDDINGGG so nezzer coded (source: bro trust me) Other notable lyrics that give me Nezzer vibes: "And I'm just like 'Damn, it's 7:00 a.m.'" "You need to calm down, you're being too loud." "'cause shade never made anybody less gay."

ART BIGOTTI AS ILLICIT AFFAIRS "Take the words for what they are; a dwindling mercurial high" Okay obviously this is abt Art yearning for a whole ass married man. BUT ALSO the way this song is written just gives me such Art vibes especially with the whole comparing having an affair to drugs thing lmaaao but like when I was picking songs and this came up I KNEW this was downbad king art bigotti. (ps this is currently one of my top taylor songs so this is a great honor" Other notable lyrics that give me Art vibes: "A drug that only worked the first few hundred times." "You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else." "Look at this idiotic fool that you've made me."

LAURA CARROT AS ANTI-HERO "I should not be left to my own devices." Obviously this is Laura lmao she a baddie but she also is a criminal. And does nothing to better herself which honestly good for her bc same. She don't give a fuck and I admire that!! She owns being an anti-hero and she is so real for that. Also just like... the energy of this song truly gives me Laura vibes so there is also that. Other notable lyrics that give me Laura vibes: "One day I'll watch as you're leaving 'cause you got tired of my scheming." "It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me." "The family gathers 'round and reads it and then someone screams out 'She's laughing up at us from hell.'"

GOLITAH GOTTIK AS MEAN "Well, you can take me down with just one single blow," I am going to be so real like 70% of me picking this song was the above lyric bc that's so god damn funny when u think of the bible story. but also. much like nezzer Goliath has been through too much... (see medical malpractice) but despite that he really do be out here just living his life and simply does not have time for the haters which is why i picked this song. Other notable lyrics that give me Goliath vibes: "Someday, I'll be big enough so you can't hit me" "I just wanna feel okay again" "All you are is mean and a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life"

PA GRAPE AS THE BEST DAY "I know you were on my side, even when I was wrong." I'm gonna be so real my main reason for picking this song is bc it's literally written abt Taylor's mom so obviously in my fucked up little delusional mind Taylor Grape wrote it abt Pa Grape. I will not be taking any criticims at this time. That said, these lyrics are more like... how she would feel abt him vs ones that just exude his aura but yolo. Other notable lyrics that give me Taylor/Pa vibes: "I don't know why all the trees change in the fall, but I know you're not scared of anything at all." "Don't know how long it's gonna take to feel okay, but I know I had the best day with you today." "And I love you for giving me your eyes, for staying back and watching me shine."

SHANNON CEDRIC UNO SCALLION AS THE 1: "And it's another day waking up alone" Okay so OBVIOUSLY this started as a shitpost bc scallion number one is the 1. HOWEVER. upon reflecting on some of these lyrics I was like... damn i might b on to something. they're sort of just like depressing and cryptic enough, especially out of context and that just felt so perfect for mr uno. Other notable lyrics that give me Uno vibes: "And if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow" "In my defense, I have none." "If one thing had been different, would everything be different today?" KILT BAGPIPE RHUBARB AS SHAKE IT OFF "I go on too many dates but I can't make them stay, at least that's what people say," Bro I will not fucking lie. As soon as I started this project I KNEW this mf had to be shake it off. A hot fuckin mess, slutting around, everyone finding him slightly offputting, but he is an unkillable yale man so he is fr just gonna shake it off. Also, so far this has easily been the one that I hard the hardest time narrowing it down to just four lyrics bc inside and out this song is Kilt all over lmaaaao (derogatory?) Just know that I decided to not put any lyrics from the chorus bc they all fit too well lmfao. Other notable lyrics that give me Kilt vibes: "But I keep cruising, can't stop, won't stop moving." "I never miss a beat, I'm lightning on my feet." "but I'm just gonna shake to the fella over there with the hella good hair."

TOM GRAPE AS CLOSURE "I'm fine with my spite." okay this song is basically abt someone trying to give closure and this one mf being like nah, i'm good. which to me is so tom. he does NOT need that closure. he's good bein a spiteful little sour grape (which i love for him) but honestly king of not needing the mushy shit. ofc some of this is taken from his relationship with his estranged sister taylor grape but i mean how could i not. Other notable lyrics that give me Tom vibes: "Don't treat me like some situation that needs to be handled." "I know that it's over, I don't need your closure." "Reaching out across the sea that you put between you and me, but it's fake and it's oh so unnecessary."

EGG BOY AS IT'S NICE TO HAVE A FRIEND "'Wanna hang out?' Yeah, sounds like fun." okay so my otp: bathroom eggs ass was ofc fully thinking of that when i chose songs for each of them (see bathroom girls for a similar note) but also this song was specifically Egg Boy to me bc... u know what. he DOES think it's nice to have a friend. he's a silly goofy guy who loves his eggs and this song gives me energy of like childhood nostalgia and that is so him and bathroom girl coded to ME. Other notable lyrics that give me Egg Boy vibes: "School bell rings, walk me home, sidewalk chalk covered in snow." "Light pink sky up on the roof, sun sinks down, no curfew." "You've been stressed out lately? Yeah, me too."

VICKI CUCUMBER AS BETTER THAN REVENGE "I'm just another thing for you to roll your eyes at, honey." I MEEEEEEAN was there even really another option!! Miss steal your man had her man STOLE! a sneaky little bitch (affectionate). I truly feel like there is not much else to say bc the energy of this song is just SO vicki to me. Like this BELONGS to her. Much like Kilt it was SO HARD for me to narrow it down to just four lyrics but i hope u enjoy the ones a pick. Other notable lyrics that give me Vicki vibes: "She took him faster than you could say sabotage." "She looks at me like I'm a trend and she's so over it" "You might have him, but I'll always get the last word." SCOOTER CARROT AS THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS "I'm shaking my head, I'm locking the gates" i have to be so fucking honest rn. I picked Scooter for this song bc this song makes me want to go to a boujee ass hollywood party and get into multiple fist fights with multiple a-listers and honestly i think I would like scooter to be there with me when i do it. He's got just the right amount of spite to help me out. not to mention in soc everyone thought he died so he's got some vengeance in him. me and moyer the destroyer kickin leo dicaprio's ass as god intended. Other notable lyrics that give me Scooter vibes: "This is why we can't have nice things, darling, because you break them, I had to take them away." "And so I took an axe to a mended fence." "Here's a toast to my real friends, they don't care about the he said, she said."

[dhr-ao3]

Rumors

Rumors https://ift.tt/GFLtRmP by commitmentissues420 "the rumors are terrible and cruel but honey most of them are true" While Hogwarts is rebuilding, several students decide to pursue higher education through Columbia's Wizarding University. Hermione starts her potions masters and to her dismay spots a familiar blonde in all her classes. Words: 1152, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Theodore Nott, Luna Lovegood, Fred Weasley, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott/Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood/Pansy Parkinson via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/yhJQw0H February 05, 2024 at 06:32PM

[ao3feed-tomarry-harrymort]

The Rumors Are Terrible And Cruel But Honey Most Of Them Are True

The Rumors Are Terrible And Cruel But Honey Most Of Them Are True

by MessyHandwriting

Daily Prophet reports an unforseen romance between the Chosen One and the Dark Lord.

Words: 949, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Harry Potter, Tom Riddle | Voldemort

Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort

Additional Tags: Daily Prophet (Harry Potter)

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48082162

[noradasuamae]

é com imensa alegria que damos as boas vindas à selecionada de belcourt, a senhorita eleanora margareth crow,da casta três. fofocas dizem que ela se parece com a vitoria strada, e está estudando para tornar-se médica. boa sorte para delphinus.

𝑩𝒖𝒚 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔

𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

com a mãe atuando como veterinária no palácio, eleanora foi criada ali, embora não saísse muito de seu quartinho — quando escapava era para fazer fofoca com as camareiras, ou se esconder na lavanderia, onde experimentava roupas da rainha para fingir que era princesa. o pai morreu quando ela tinha quatorze anos, e só então a família conseguiu juntar dinheiro — maurice gastava muito de bebidas, e foi o que o levou. a mãe conseguiu abrir uma clínica veterinária, e tendo trabalhado pra realeza, seus serviços foram bastante procurados, o que fez a vida das crow melhorar — aulas com tutores tornaram-se comum na rotina das meninas, que tinham como objetivo arrumar casamentos vantajosos. nora inscreveu-se na seleção por conta própria, sendo apaixonada pelo príncipe desde sua infância, e também porque é um absurdo que uma de suas irmãs tenha se casado antes dela!

𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬

ela possuí um diário de casamento perfeito, ao melhor estilo blair wardof, onde escreve seus ideias de casamento perfeito, guarda amostras de estampa para vestido, cola ideias de lua-de-mel e alguns recortes feitos com os rostos dela e do alex.

ela possuí três irmãs mais novas, sendo katia, ada e dianna.

eleanora não se importa em jogar sujo às vezes, se for para alcançar seus objetivos; o que ela se esforça para fazer, é não ser pega.

ela é bem falsinha, pode ficar toda sorrisos na sua frente e virar as costas e aprontar um milhão para cima de ti.

está estudando para tornar-se médica.

eleanora é vegetariana. tudo começou por seguir o estilo de vida da mãe, mas diferente de suas irmãs, nora adotou como suas práticas também.

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

meu sobrenome é crow, como o pássaro, primeiro nome, eleanora; e eu tinha vinte e seis anos quando me casei com alexander schreave, no dia 9 de novembro de 2412. okay, isso ainda não aconteceu, mas aprendi com minha mãe que precisamos projetar nosso pensamento, e mantê-lo sempre positivo, para atrair que coisas boas aconteçam. e, ah, eu faço isso desde que tinha dez anos, preenchendo páginas e mais páginas no meu diário de casamento perfeito — entre exemplares de tecidos que posso usar no meu vestido de noiva, recortes de lugares que desejo passar minha lua-de-mel e detalhes sobre a decoração, existe também fotos de casais, cujos rostos foram substituídos pelo meu e o de alex. isso não é assim tão esquisito, certo? para que eu não seja tão julgada sobre isso, vamos a minha não tão longa história:

minha família e eu somos três por nascimento, mas se dependesse da administração que papai fazia do dinheiro, teríamos despencado algumas castas — quem sabe até a sete. papai é o tipo de homem que gosta de marcar sua presença, ostentando com coisas que não lhe cabiam — para meu azar, tenho uma pequena tendência em fazê-lo também. apesar disso, mamãe sempre manteve o equilíbrio, sendo a ajuizada de casa, e num movimento de sorte, conseguiu adentrar o palácio para servir a família real. sylvia, é veterinária, e depois de bastante esforço, conseguiu compor o quadro de funcionários da família real; deixamos nossa casa em belcourt quando eu mal sabia andar, para viver em aposentos de serviçais.

imagine que, para uma criança, era completamente mágico crescer dentro do palácio. eu só precisava tomar cuidado para não ser notada, e, bem, era fácil passar despercebido, quando adultos pareciam ocupados demais cuidando de suas próprias vidas. do meu lugar, acompanhando as camareiras pelos corredores, sempre curiosa sobre a vida dos outros no palácio, eu conseguia vislumbrar alexander com seus tutores. foi minha morada no palácio que me fez admirar o príncipe e, até mesmo, fantasiar com uma vida sendo princesa — ora, às vezes os filhos dos servos brincavam de teatro, e com roupas velhas da rainha abby eu me fantasiava de um membro da realeza!

foi na minha adolescência, depois de papai morrer de algum mal que atacou seu fígado — maurice tinha a mania de ostentar com álcool, também — que mamãe conseguiu guardar dinheiro para abrir sua própria clínica veterinária. e então, fomos embora do palácio. era maravilhoso ter o nosso próprio canto, sem sermos convocadas pelo badalar de sinos quando a realeza precisava de algo; mas também era péssimo não estar mais convivendo naquele meio. mas mamãe dizia que seria melhor, e tentei me convencer disso, ao passo em que focava em meus estudos para me tornar médica. 

foi neste momento em que minha irmã mais nova, katia, casou-se com um bombeiro. eu fiquei feliz por ela, é claro, até ser lembrada de que, como a filha mais velha, eu deveria ter sido a primeira a me casar. acredito que a ruga que carrego no meio das minhas sobrancelhas, tenha se originado desse estresse! querendo compensar meu atraso em arrumar um casamento, com a elevação do status social, eu me inscrevi na seleção — era tudo o que eu poderia desejar, que o príncipe finalmente olhasse para mim como a mulher que sou; e não como a garotinha que outrora serviu em seu palácio.

me esforço para ser, aparentemente, tudo o que a sociedade exige, e quer, de uma dama de minha idade e posição. elegante, obediente e comportada, minha face social é perfeita, e tenho uma reputação imaculável — nunca me envolvi em escândalo algum, e quem diz que tem provas disso, está mentindo! não costumo ir contra as imposições feitas a mim, muito pelo contrário, entendo desde nova que posso conquistar tudo o que desejar se agir da maneira correta. no entanto, por debaixo dos panos, posso ser um pouco inescrupulosa; não tenho medo de fazer o que seja necessário, contanto que não corra o risco de ser descoberta.

[hbogirls]

“we team up, then switch sides like a record changer// the rumors are terrible and cruel, but honey most of them are true” okay.... and this is in the same song called new romantics, which is also the name of a flamboyant art movement of the 1980s that included queer and androgynous artists? and the brick throwing imagery reminiscent of stonewall? and the symbol of a scarlet letter not representing adultery, but rather some other element of your character that the public might have misgivings about? “the best people in life are free” as in openly themselves and singing it proudly? 

[ao3feed-larry]

The Rumors Are Terrible And Cruel (But Honey, Most Of Them Are True)

by unconditionalarry

Welcome to New York, Upper Eastside to be exact, where money and status are everything. In the middle of it Louis Tomlinson, the King of St. Judes with the perfect life all lined up in front of him,but what happens when things start to go sideways and his ways cross with the notorious playboy Harry Styles, whom he can´t stand?

 A Gossip Girl AU featuring Louis in the position of Blair, Harry as Chuck, Zayn as serena but less annoying, Liam sort of like Dan but also a lot less annoying and Niall as Nate sort of, but more Niall.

Words: 2512, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: One Direction (Band)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Underage

Categories: M/M

Characters: Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne, Niall Horan, Georgina Sparks (Gossip Girl), Original Characters

Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne, Louis Tomlinson/ OC but it´s brief

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Gossip Girl Fusion, Gossip Girl References, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - High School, Underage Drinking - it´s gossip girl, Mentions of past drug use, Freeform, No Smut, Any new tags in the notes

via AO3 works tagged 'Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson' https://ift.tt/2S7lQ9Z

[clansayeed]

Bound by Circumstance ― Chapter 19: No Sympathy for the Bloodwraith

PAIRING: Nik Ryder x trans*M!MC (Taylor Hunter) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Circumstance ⥽

Taylor Hunter (MC) has made it good for himself in New Orleans; turns out moving to a new city fresh out of college to reinvent yourself isn’t as hard as people make it out to be. Things only start to get confusing when he finds himself the target of a malevolent wraith. Good thing someone’s looking out for him though — because without Nighthunter Nik Ryder as his bodyguard he definitely won’t survive long in the twisting darkness of the supernatural underworld he’s tripped into.

Bound by Circumstance and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the book Nightbound and the rest of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Circumstance only loosely follows the events and plotline of Nightbound, and features a separate antagonist, different character motivations, and further worldbuilding.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Circumstance/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Cadence recounts one of the worst events in the Council’s history as the bloodwraith’s motives are brought to light. Taylor’s new empathy turns into both a helpful gift and a terrible burden.

[READ IT ON AO3]

New Orleans, 1921

“If you think the entire Garden Coven unwilling to march on you without hesitation, then you’re far more a fool than you’ve already proved yourself to be.”

The Nighthunter rounds on him with stake in hand. Even as unofficial allies his intent is clear: I will use this.

But Cadence doesn’t step back because he fears the weapon. He fears the man using it.

Has seen that wild look in his eyes elsewhere — though never in a human. It is the look that watches his every step, that hoards the limp limbs of their meal closer, that seeks only to gorge on thick veins and will not be sated until red ichor spills from their lips they are so full with it.

In a reversal of fortune it is the human who looks at the vampire with the gouging claws of bloodthirst and madness.

Any creature of sound mind would fear Reimonenq now.

“They can’t touch me,” the sneering reply, “those damn Accords keep y’all from actin’ as a faction!”

“Those same Accords demand the same of you!”

“It’s different for me an’ you know it, Smith.”

“No—honestly I don’t. You’re just as much a part of this community as any of us. You’re beholden to the Accords just as we are!” But the thing he’s still struggling to grasp, the thing that leaves him gaping even as Derek Reimonenq resumes shoving his things into a ratty sack, is far worse.

“Even with the legality aside — you just murdered three young women in cold blood.”

If any vestiges of warmth remained in his once-alive body they are dashed in the moment the man’s cruel laughter reaches his ears.

“Trust me when I say there weren’t nothin’ cold about it.”

A blind fury consumes him. Sends him rushing at the man with preternatural speed to pin him to the wall; the same grasp capable of turning concrete to powder wrapped around the mortal’s neck.

“You think this is funny?!”

“What it is, damn bleedin’ hearted fool, is justice!”

Derek shoves him back; only succeeds when the vampire is too stunned to speak or hold his ground. “You storm in here spoutin’ all yer high-horse shit about them Accords but you think I’m the only one what broke ‘em? You think those devil-whisperin’ freaks didn’ bend they’re own rules just the same?

“Those girls were unnatural. Even for they’re kind. I been at this all my life Smith — I know how to suss out the ones who ain’t got no hope a’goin’ anywhere but bad.”

“You killed them before they even had a chance. You’re no seer Reimonenq, you can’t possibly think you’re justified on a hunch!”

Derek’s upper lip curls. Cadence is almost surprised he doesn’t glimpse fangs.

“A Nighthunter’s job ain’t easy an’ it ain’t nice an’ it definitely ain’t simple. I already compromised every-damn-thing I believe in when I joined in on ya damn Council. But Come Hell an’ high waters if I stop makin’ this city safe for me an’ mine.”

Like a creature in her own right there comes a small hollow noise at the door. Low and center — the tap-tapping of child’s knuckles. The men break their brawl to watch — to wait.

The knuckles tap-tap again. Firmer this time.

Derek wars with himself for only a moment — opens the door and smooths the kind eyes of a father over those of the beast before.

Cadence knows it isn’t his spectacles that cause him to see a familiar child; not the honey-eyed daughter of Reimonenq but the wild ginger mane of Meredith LaPointe’s youngest. Her face frozen in terror as it will always be; carved behind his eyelids and in his soul.

Even in a town like New Orleans some hauntings have nothing to do with the supernatural. Some are personal.

The little girl stands with her nightshirt bunched in impossibly tiny fists. Wide eyes shining at the sight of her father before realizing he isn’t alone. When her lower lip begins to wobble the vampire realizes his mistake and averts his unnatural ruby gaze.

“You’re supposed to be in bed baby girl,” croons the same man who had burned three girls mere hours ago.

He picks his daughter up and tucks her in close. Cadence wonders if she can smell burned flesh and hair on his old army coat. “Where’s that momma’a yours…” Doesn’t look back to his guest even as he closes the door behind him, ventures deeper into his slumbering home.

Now alone the towering man begs for an answer only he can give — the same thing he had thought with the sunset a looming enemy at his back on the steps of Reimonenq’s domain.

Why is he here?

He has no stake in the Nighthunter’s life. In fact they’ve run afoul of one another more than most. For a man apparently so dedicated to upholding the tenets of the original Nighthunters he sure found himself in debt to the creatures he should so despise often enough. They’d met that way — another payment to Cadence’s three year debt to Carlo in strongarming the money that was promised.

And fucks sakes… there’s nothing redeemable about a man who would hold his daughter with hands still stained with the soot of a witch pyre.

The Council will come for him. There’s even a likelihood the vampire himself would be one of the men tasked with bringing him for his trial.

Maybe he just has to accept that there isn’t a reason for confronting Reimonenq alone.

Maybe he just wants to understand.

Monster to monster.

“What foul…?” He catches another whiff of burned flesh and a shudder rolls through him. He wonders if it should remind him of the battlefield. Still so strong even with thin walls between them — like Reimonenq hadn’t even left the room.

Curious.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees the lumped and dark shadow of the hunter’s sack. Ready to cut and run even with a family awaiting his return on the city’s outskirts.

Cadence doesn’t have a family — or if he does he doesn’t know where to find them. Are they waiting for him? Are they just as ignorant to the truth?

All his unanswered questions and here the other man is almost eager to abandon it all. Jealousy is an ugly thing.

When he reaches for the bag it’s because he’s angry; because he wants to delay Derek as much as possible. Not just to face the consequences of his actions but so he knows what the fuck he’s leaving behind. Has to dial down his strength lest he send a myriad of Nighthunter’s essentials hurtling through the thin drywall.

Stakes clatter to the floor. A medieval crossbow lands arm-down and snaps the archaic metal off like shattering glass. Bare essentials of fabric tumble out and reveal the prize he had wrapped within with care and greed both; what remaining skin was peeled from muscle tissue and bone from the flames that had consumed them starts to flake off and settle on scuffed wooden floors.

One cooked finger snaps off and rolls under the nearby bed. The rest are curled up and in like spiders after they die of starvation.

He’s caused his fair share of bloodshed but this—

Trophies…

Cadence’s tears gather and the world goes blurry at his eyes. From rage, from disgust, from incredulity…

He rips his glasses off and shatters them in his fist.

To the Elders of the Garden District Coven, Carlo de la Rosa was at the center of the city’s vampire community. If they weren’t of his blood they owed him in one form of another — Cadence is proof of that.

He was old, powerful, and connected. He had to go.

To the malevolent specter of Derek Reimonenq, Carlo was a threat. Not just as the leader of the vampires of New Orleans but on a personal level as well. In the months following his death Reimonenq’s wife and daughter inherited more than his legacy — they inherited his debts too.

He was as remorseless as he was undead. He had to go.

The Elders witnessed firsthand the rapid rise to power of Denna Ostrowski; a shapeshifter rumored to have had over a hundred forms under her pelt. To the mundane world she was new money investing in the rich history of Louisiana. And money opens many doors — even among the supernatural.

She had her hands steeped in the cauldrons of both worlds. She had to go.

Only Denna came to town long after The Bloody Hand had been dealt with — near forgotten.

That didn’t stop her from learning as much as she could about the history of the Council; from allies to enemies. Learning where they lived, where they died, and where they had hidden every rotten putrid trophy hand.

It was a part of the past best left forgotten yet that didn’t stop Denna from destroying them all the way down to the bone. And for that her days were numbered.

Though they didn’t know it the Elders and their ghoulish pet saw eye-to-eye when it came time to level that gaze on Tonya Reimonenq. They called her Lady Smoke because those who ran afoul of her always disappeared without a trace.

Poof — gone like smoke.

She never asked for her gift; the Reimonenq Curse. But she took it and she used it without shame or guilt. Made a show of keeping her touch under expensive wrappings but everyone knew the truth.

She liked having such power; control over who lived and who died. And despite being of Derek Reimonenq’s decaying flesh and molded blood, Tonya had turned herself into a target — made herself a creature more than she ever was a human being.

“I was the one who brought him in front of the Council,” Cadence says without regret, without remorse; “I kept him from going into hiding. If I hadn’t gone to him that night the Garden Coven may very well have never found him.”

Cal frowns. “I thought you said he couldn’t be accused and punished. Which I still can’t make a lick’a sense of.”

“In the eyes of the Accords both sides were at fault — for different things, but equally guilty of knowing the laws and consciously choosing to break them.”

“What did the Coven do?”

The vampire shifts in discomfort.

“The girls Derek burned weren’t born into the families that made up their ranks at the time. The Elders back then had plans to blood them fully — sort of like an initiation you can’t back out of — but they were brought into the city from outside covens before it was done.”

“To put it plain they brought enemies onto Quarter soil,” explains Katherine with a tired rub of her eye.

Cal throws his glance back to Taylor and Vera and matches their confusion.

“I’m missin’ somethin’. ‘Cause no offense but I can’t see a guy like Elric agreeing to put kids to death over bein’ somewhere they shouldn’t’ve.”

“You’re right — Elric knew the girls were smuggled into town. The whole Council did, actually. Given the circumstances they agreed to turn a blind eye.” When he’s met with a silence that screams for him to keep going Cadence does, though the reluctance is clear on his expression.

“Listen — I never met them personally. I only know what I do from rumor and that’s putting it lightly. But one person heard from another who heard from God-knows-who-else that the girls all shared the same power—could do the same thing in the craft, you know?

“It was said they could remove free will. I don’t know how, or if it was wild speculation or the truth watered down. Even I laughed when the story reached far down enough to my rung on the ladder. Nothing of the natural world — be it magic or sensation or psychic connection — can truly take away all resistance to command. Even my kind, while connected to our Makers on a deep and intimate level, can resist their influence if we do so with all of our being.

“None of this mattered though. The Coven may have concealed their nature but everyone could put two and two together.”

“No one thought they were gonna try somethin’ shifty?” asks Nik. Cadence shakes his head.

“One of the Elders had a natural gift of his own; he could sever the witch from their ability to practice the craft. It was clear that was their plan — that the city didn’t have to worry. They just couldn’t do so until after being blooded into the Coven.

“I think most of us just felt sorry for them.” Doesn’t stare at the carpet underfoot but through it; both in the room with them and some place he thought he had left far behind. “I did. All around the country young men had been sent off to war and returned home empty husks, if they returned at all. There was a sort of cultural agreement that didn’t need words: children and their innocence was worth protecting.”

Kathy’s hand hovers over his before making a decision, offering contact to ground the man to the present. But the smile he gives her is hollow. The memories still haunt him — maybe they always will.

“Derek Reimonenq didn’t agree,” he continues to everyone’s surprise, “not that anyone expected him to. Neither did the Bayou Alpha but the war didn’t even give her back a body to bury, so she fell in with the rest. Everyone figured he would air his grievances and follow through as he usually did… bottle in hand.

“It’s the only time I can remember that the Council tried to find a flaw in their own laws. They wanted to convict him — everyone was demanding justice. But rather than two trials and needless punishment on the side of the Coven the only solution they could all agree on was a clean slate.”

“Which didn’t sit well with the witches,” Vera rests her hand on her racing heart like that will help — it doesn’t, “so they Cursed him. And all the Reimonenq blood ‘longside.”

Cadence nods tight-lipped; has said more than he thought he would have to and more than he wished to if his tension is anything to go by.

“Makes sense, now.”

Nik’s fingertips are warm on Taylor’s scalp. They card through his hair as if to remind them both they are here; that it’s all come down to this.

“Those Elder bastards were targetin’ power in the city but somehow usin’ Derek’s spirit gave it an agenda. Carlo for the past, Denna for revenge on his stuff — can’t say I blame it for hatin’ Smoke but —”

“And how exactly did I piss off ‘The Bloody Hand?’” Taylor asks in bewilderment. Nothing about the casual way the man shrugs reassures him.

“Dunno — you were convenient?”

“And we’re back to that now.”

“Sometimes a spade is a spade is a spade,” his mouth twists with deep thought, “though now we know why it wasn’t houndin’ on us the second you were outside a ward. They gave it a hit list but it chose the order.”

No one responds — what is there to say? Sure it’s satisfying to finally know, to understand.

But does it change anything?

It has to. Otherwise The Fate wouldn’t have led him on this; the altered path.

“This is good — this is a really good thing.”

The incredulity and judgment that bears down on Katherine isn’t personal — she knows that. More than that she doesn’t care. Not with the wry look she’s sending Ryder’s way. “Damn,” she laughs dryly, “it might actually be the only time in all this weird crap that things might work in our favor.”

“How d’ya mean?”

“You said it yourself; a spade’s a spade. Think about it, Nik — finally this is just a job like any other. Just creatures following their nature.”

A look of understanding comes over his weary features. “So maybe it’s time we follow ours, you mean.”

Like she’s reading his mind Vera speaks up where Taylor still struggles to connect the dots; “For the class, guys?”

Kathy’s smile is a rare thing. Rare and unnerving.

“We do what Nighthunters do best; we hunt.”

Even with everything he’s seen and endured the sight of rusted cemetery gates still form knots in his belly; dread and memory all tied up with the knowledge that at the end of the day he’s just as vulnerable here and now as he was that first night.

And you know what doesn’t help? Being in the Garden District again; that doesn’t help.

Being so close to their enemies — those literally plotting to kill them with more than one attempt under their witchy robes — that doesn’t help.

But it must be done. “It’s a risk we’ll have to take,” Katherine had said while hoisting a rusted toolbox from its shelf in Cadence’s office, “since it’s proven already it can attack us anywhere — wards or no.”

“There aren’t any protection measures we can take?” Vera had asked; though they were all sure that if there was an answer they would have found it by now.

“Find a god and pray.”

That the cemetery is largely untouched is a miracle. Not for fear of ghosts and the scary stories tour guides like Tilly tell but for the fact that tourists usually just don’t give a damn.

Then again this is the closest cemetery to the Coven. That has something to do with it no doubt.

Cadence leads them through the dark and winding paths — Cal bringing up the rear. “No flashlights,” the vampire had insisted, “the moment we trespass is the moment the mundane authorities become just as much a threat as the witches.”

Lucky they have a vampire and a werewolf on their team then. Precision hunters pretty much known for their ability to see at night.

They keep close-knit ranks but let’s be honest; they’re about as subtle as the Scooby Gang would be in this scenario.

A joke he will not be saying within earshot of Cal if Taylor values his life.

Though the vampire insists—almost too much—that he hasn’t been to the Reimonenq crypt since Derek was put there almost a century ago he sure knows his way easy enough.

“Are you sure you’re okay with us doing this; vandalizing your family crypt?” Taylor asks Vera, because this just feels awkward especially with her here. And if she says stop you better know they will be stopping.

But nope; it’s all good. “I’m only frustrated I can’t get us in myself.”

They come to a stop — abruptly, like jostled dominoes — in front of an old stone grave.

Any other day Taylor would have walked right by it; dismissed it for another piece of city history made illegible from erosion over time. But through the greenish muck and years of wear, maybe because he knows what he’s looking for, it’s there.

REIMONENQ “Mourn not the dead, but those burdened to continue living.”

His heart sinks at the inscription beneath Vera’s family name — chances a glance her way, ready to offer what little comfort he can.

Her eyes scream of hatred but he can feel beneath the surface. All that anger stemming from a place of hurt, of loss; of regret. Hatred at the bones they hope to find within and regret for every life that could have been spared in the aftermath of him.

Cadence motions for Cal to help him strongarm the front slab.

“Wait,” says Vera through the stones in her throat and the tears in her eyes she refuses to shed, “gimme a second.”

Katherine holds her breath — thinks better of pointing out that they may not have a second to spare. They know; Vera knows.

But she also deserves this.

She removes her left glove while approaching the crypt. They step back, give her a wide berth and not just for her sake.

Fingers stretched as far and forward as they’ll go Vera lays her palm on the surface. Pushes with a fruitless effort but it probably isn’t the physical barrier she’s forcing back. At least that’s not what Taylor feels in her soul.

“When I was a lit’le girl Momma told me we didn’ have the luxury of choosin’ whether or not to be killers. That day I vowed to myself to be the first — to keep the Touch from ever takin’ a life so long as I held it.

“I was fifteen when she tricked me into usin’ it on a man — staged it like I was savin’ her life by taking another. And I’ll never forgive her for it.”

Taylor feels his heart begin to crumble, then crash into a deep dark sea in chunks as tears roll down her cheeks.

“But she proved something to me that day —” she continues, “— she proved she was right. That so long as we had the Touch we would be killers whether we wanted to or not. She may have tried to make me a hero but no one who can do what we do could ever be one.

“But here—lookin’ at this grave, knowin’ what I know and all that The Bloody Hand did? I don’t feel guilty anymore. I finally realize that I really never had a choice.

“It was always gonna be in my nature.”

Cal’s knuckles crack hollow in the silent cemetery. Cade averts his ruby eyes, swipes his tongue over the hint of a fang.

If anyone here can understand her, it’s them.

“That’s what makes him so evil,” Vera tugs on her glove with jerking frustration; and not for the first time turns her back on the name REIMONENQ, “he had a choice an’ he chose to kill. And I ain’t gonna forget that — no matter how ‘tortured’ his soul is supposed to be.

“Those Elders ain’t in the right in what they’ve done but he wouldn’t have been their weapon had he not chosen to do great evil first.”

Not a rallying cry or solemn eulogy — but her intent is clear.

No sympathy for the bloodwraith.

No sympathy for Derek Reimonenq.

Ryder insists on proceeding with caution—still a statement Taylor’s trying to wrap his head around to be honest—and earns Katherine’s grumbled agreement that they should at least check for remnants of the Elders’ visit.

Cal spots a couple of markings drawn in chalk by the base that set teeth and fangs on edge but ultimately Kathy concludes they’re nothing more than lay-hexes; the witch equivalent of spitting on someone and cursing them to burn in Hell. A bit ominous but not meant to guard the abandoned tomb.

Which, frankly, leaves Taylor more than a little unsettled.

“If they saw no need to enchant it, does that mean there’s nothing inside we can use?”

Nik shakes his head and steps back, allows the two creatures among them to really give in to that nature of theirs and pry the weathered granite from its seal.

“First thing any hunter does when dealin’ with the hereafter is t’learn about the life of the haunting dead. We got the life story and we got how he died —”

“Step two is consecrate whatever bones can be found.” Katherine finishes.

A groan of resistance cuts off with a loud THUD, the noise bouncing from crypt to crypt definitely more than loud enough to awaken the dead. Nice timing to start regretting not bringing Ivy along.

Cade props the front plate on the side of the structure, waves his hand at the irritating dust and sand set off from their force.

It must be nice not to have to breathe, Taylor would say — if he wasn’t hacking his lungs out and praying there isn’t any powdered body on his tongue.

When it settles and they can properly peer inside — the good news is that aren’t any corpses that might make him lose his nerve. One more fainting spell and Taylor might just have to live in shame in the backwoods of the Bayou.

The bad news, though, is also that there aren’t any corpses; rather a large black hole stretching into a void. Darker than the night around them, practically made of nothing.

The vampire sighs and pushes up his glasses. “It’s a small stairwell,” then looking back to Vera, “I know you aren’t to blame in the least but… there’s a reason no one has a basement in Louisiana.” Judging by the look she throws his way it’s better that she takes the high road and doesn’t comment.

“I can’t smell any water rot,” Cal sniffs the air again and the face he makes might as well curl the ends of his hair, “but there’s definitely dead things below.”

“Wow, dead things in a crypt, who would’a guessed?”

“Hey Ryder?”

“Yeah Kujo?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

There’s only enough space for them to go one at a time; and even that is being generous. Taylor can’t help but try to imagine the dignified Elder Daniels in her power-suit crawling into this muck — or Elder Vion hobbling through like a bag of bones.

Kathy volunteers Cadence to go first — an act the vampire looks like he objects to strongly. “Tall people aren’t really made for small —”

But it isn’t his height the huntress is concerned over; a revelation spurned by how she shoves him through the passage—crawlspace, really—and holds her breath as if waiting for something to happen.

Nothing does. “The inside isn’t bespelled. You can come out now if you want.”

If Cade could turn his head he would no doubt be glaring wildly. “Why bother, I’m already inside!” He seethes but takes cautious steps into the tomb, then into the earth.

Vera goes next, and of her own volition.

“Anyone else worried about the amount of oxygen down there?” And it’s such a clear opening for Nik to take a shot at the werewolf but Cal does have a point — while also looking a little green in the face.

So he and Katherine stay up top to guard the rather obvious and gaping hole in what should be a sealed grave. And for the sake of conserving breathing room, can’t forget that.

Nik’s hand is warm, solid as it coaxes him at his lower back. Only a few steps in he feels the drop of the descent. Waits until what little light from outside is obscured by the bodyguard at his back before he begins the journey down.

Down into the not-so-final not-quite-at-rest place of Derek Reimonenq.

Cal was right; there is a body down here.

But—and he’s just spitballing here really—he’s like… a little pretty-damn-sure it isn’t the guy who’s been dead for 98 years.

Ninety five, ninety four percent certain.

As he finishes igniting the last of the half-burned candle circle Cadence pockets his lighter and stands — doesn’t even have to hunch over. It had felt like they were walking for an hour in the pitch black but maybe he wasn’t that far off.

It’s not a tomb like anyone buried would have a tomb; more a room made sturdy with brick and mortar to do one purpose — and not even for forever. The candles have to be a new fixture courtesy of the Coven Elders and whatever hellish ritual they performed. Even the ground beneath them still holds traces of their visit; looks like Elder Daniels got her heel stuck in some as-yet unpacked dirt.

Derek Reimonenq’s body is probably supposed to be on the waist-height stone slab in the middle. Only it isn’t.

But someone’s is.

Ryder’s hand ghosts over yellow chalk marks on the walls. He pulls back a fingertip of the powder residue and gives it a little sniff; instantly regrets it with a recoil.

“Sulfur,” and he smears it back on the brick feeling desperately unclean.

Cadence joins Vera in looking up to where something large catches the reflection of the flames. He’s just tall enough to reach and brush the surface with a touch. “Looks like a quartz geode… I think I’ve read somewhere that halite can be cast to ward away weathering.”

“Explains why this place wasn’t swallowed up in Katrina,” agrees Nik.

There’s a long moment of silence before Taylor just can’t take it anymore.

“Is no one else gonna mention the dead corpse?”

Cadence snorts. “As opposed to the living one?”

Not what he meant.

But as the rest of the room’s oddities had been deduced the only logical progression was to the young woman laid to rest in a grave that isn’t hers. Maybe wasn’t supposed to be.

That she hasn’t shown any signs of decay isn’t even the strangest thing. No, that would be the pile of bleached-white bones serving as her funeral bed. Definitely more than what one human body should be made up of — but who says it’s human?

The almost medical distance with which Nik studies the long gash across her throat—not scabbed over but not bleeding, either, simply open—has Taylor looking away in discomfort.

While Vera may not have been initially as shocked as he, though, she keeps her distance beside him. “She’s so young…”

“Eighteen, maybe a tad less,” Cadence shrugs off the way they stare at him, “I tried out medicine a ways back, I think I can date a body.”

“Then how long has she been dead?”

“That’s the misleading part — but I think we have the halite ward to thank for that. Context included—I’d say she died the same night as Carlo de la Rosa.”

Vera sucks in a breath. “It killed her, too?”

“No, she doesn’t look like the other bodies.” Nik grunts and stands, wipes dirt from his palms and grabs one of the bones from under the girl’s knee to study it closely. “Conjuring the wraith — pulling Reimonenq’s spirit from the Veil, that’s some heavy necromancy, the kind you have to have in your blood. It could be one of the Elders but I’m gonna go out on a limb and say she’s our born Necromancer.”

Why is it that with everything he’s seen Taylor still has a hard time looking into her face, soft and so very still, and imagining her bringing that much evil into the world?

Ryder uses the bone to drag a wide circle around the dais in the dirt; follows the path just inside the candles and forces the other three back against the walls. “The Elders stood in a triangle — see the concentration of steps — and she did the summoning over the altar. When they were done… she wasn’t of any use to them and and had to go.”

“But she was one of their own,” Taylor protests, “they keep talking about how they’re trying to protect their Coven — she had to have been one of them right?”

It’s a heavy thought. Makes the air in the room feel a little thinner. Cal was right there isn’t enough for them down here.

“Come Hell and High Waters,” says Cade; and he probably means well but those words make him feel sick to his stomach now — some of that ends justifying the means bullshit.

“A sacrifice of one for the survival of the many. I wonder if they told her… that what she was doing was the right thing.”

“The right — they murdered her. There’s no way that’s right.”

“You’re questioning their morality now?”

Taylor falters. He has a point.

There’s just so much grief building up inside his chest he feels like his lungs might burst out of him. A terrible loss; losing himself, losing faith in something, losing trust and truth and…

And where the hell is this coming from?

I can’t breathe. Clutching his hand to his chest, heart seconds away from giving out, that familiar burn of breathing in too hard—too much. “I can’t breathe.”

Before he can collapse Vera helps ease him down to his knees, Nik suddenly at his side hands hovering — unsure of what to do, how to help, but filled with the desperate need to do something because feeling useless is a thundercloud gathering overhead.

“Rook—Rook breathe. I — what’s wrong? Can you talk? Talk to me Taylor, please —”

“Give him some space, Ryder.”

“Do you not see him having a panic attack?”

He gathers enough energy to rasp out only once; “Hey—huff—Nik—huff—backthehelloff!”

And because he can’t say it again he just waves Vera away with heavy slaps of his hands. He doesn’t mean to hurt her. Only to get his point across.

The breathing room they give helps a little. Not enough. Doesn’t stop the feelings he’s feeling or the confusion about those feelings.

They wait in silence while his panic subsides. Maybe it wouldn’t take so long if he understood what had caused it; but he’s met with nothing but patience and a whole lot of concern on Nik’s end.

When Taylor reaches out with a shaky hand it’s immediately grabbed; his entire being tethered to that one act. Nik squeezes first, he squeezes back.

His gaze drifts over the leather-clad shoulder to the body on the stone slab and… and he understands.

“I’m feeling her.” The aching grief twisting in his gut like a rusty knife, the purposelessness, the betrayal. “It—she—is everywhere in here. She’s suffocating.”

“She’s dead, Rook.”

“I mean her emotions—her soul. She wants to be known. She wants to be grieved.”

“So grieve her,” Cadence says, “however you can, you must. If you’re feeling that strong of an empathic connection there must be a reason why. It could tell us something we don’t know—something crucial.”

Taylor hopes to see some sort of confident support when he looks to Nik for help — but the worry is staggering. That makes it better, somehow; genuine.

“You don’t have to do anythin’ you don’t want,” his voice is quiet; hiding the scratch of emotion in his throat where his Adam’s apple bobs.

If only it were that simple.

On shaky legs he stands, makes his way to the altar where Cadence gives him a wide berth and waves for the others to do the same. Nik looks ready to stand by his side no matter what happens. He will, too. But he shakes his head, whispers “it’s okay,” and lets their touch linger until he’s too far to reach.

There’s no manual on this kinda crap — hopefully he doesn’t need one. He doesn’t think he does.

No… he doesn’t feel like he does. Which is apparently different now; a thing to worry about later.

Taylor inhales and brushes a trembling touch along the soft curve of her copper cheek.

“You swore a sacred oath to your Coven in blood, dear girl.”

Elder Vion’s voice rasps in his ear. Makes Taylor want to recoil out of a bygone terror. He’s half a step back when he remembers Nik is there and the Elder is not. And stands still.

“No one else would have you Cassiopeia. We took you in, gave you our protection.”

“We gave you a family — a home.”

Then an unfamiliar voice among them; young and trusting and tired—so very tired, dragged out of her bed in the middle of the night.

“Of course, Elder Millet, a-and I’m grateful! Please, please…”

“All of these things without expectation of repayment. Because our kind must stand together — must straddle the worlds of both dark and light and know balance in them.”

“You have been cursed, darling girl. But today we will turn that curse into a blessing.”

“But you made me promise —”

Then the feeling changes — grows old and damp and determined to do good by those who took care of her, by those who loved her.

The bones of a persecuted witch. Of three. The last three to fall victim to The Bloody Hand and the ones to call him forth from the hereafter.

They bind him in torment, in hellfire unseen.

The sight of them, knowledge that she could be one of them, makes her skin crawl.

Elder Daniels watches ever-present at her back as Elder Vion finishes the rite of conjuring; sprinkles the last of the dry spell over the bones. The mandrake powder tickles her nose. She holds her breath and prays not to sneeze.

The ochre within stains the bones her favorite shade of orange; the burned hue of a Bayou sunset. But combined with the flakes of iridescent mica that catch in the candlelight — the spell takes hold of the bones and claims them for their use. Leaves them a bright, almost bleached white as the powders are absorbed into the long-gone marrow.

Cassiopeia looks to her left for Elder Millet’s familiar motherly smile. It gives her calm and hope — reminds her of all the other fostered witches they are acting in faith for tonight.

This is what she was born for. This is why she was abandoned; because the Garden Coven was meant to find her.

She’s meant to do this; use her curse. This is how she’s going to repay them for all they’ve done for her.

“Cassiopeia, sweetheart,” Elder Millet doesn’t move—can’t move—from her spot in the triquetra; coaxes her forward still with a nod of her chin, “whenever you’re ready.”

A hasty nod; then she takes one final moment to steel herself and her nerves.

She’s meant for this.

The sulfur powder itches at her palms but Cassie resists the urge to scratch. Spreads her fingers wide and hears a pop in her thumbs as she reaches over and above the ritual bones.

On the other side of the altar comes the thud. thud. thud of Elder Vion’s walking staff on the ground a this feet. The candle flames around them flicker — almost to death.

Then comes the slow and throated chanting of Vion’s native tongue. The flames begin to grow.

The young witch buries that last shred of doubt way deep inside and trusts her protectors.

“Claw and blood, claw and bone. Bloodied flesh, endless stone…”

A whispered wind overcomes them. Fills the room warm near her toes and chilly to the touch.

Around the crypt it circles round and round — and grows.

“Soar with the zephyr, shriek with the crow. Life renewed I now bestow…”

She can’t quite tell if the shaking in her hands is the growing itch, her nerves, or the power of the spell. Nothing worth the reason to stop.

“My darkest will with blackened vein Unto this rotted soul I chain.”

“Again!” Elder Daniels commands. A tone that takes none but obedience.

“Claw and blood, claw and bone. Bloodied flesh, endless stone. Soar with the zephyr, shriek with the crow. Life renewed I now bestow. My darkest will with blackened vein Unto this rotted soul I chain!”

“Again!”

“I—I’m trying!”

“Try harder! Millet!”

“Cassiopeia you can’t break the chant. You can do it, I know you can!”

The whirlwind threatens to catch her voice and steal it from her lungs. Rattles the bones that stay together because they cannot imagine being apart — even in death. Hands stained with the sulfur’s ire and Cassie squeezes her eyes shut to keep it from getting in her eyes.

“Claw and blood! Claw and bone! Bloodied flesh! Endless stone!”

“It’s working! Jean—the knife!”

“You’re doing so good Cassie—we’re almost there!”

“My darkest will with blackened vein! Unto this rotted soul I chain!”

Taylor chokes on his own air; can feel the icy bite of the blade dragged across his throat. Sharp—so sharp it’s barely a pinprick but the wound left in its wake spills warm and wet down his front into his clothes soaking the ground taken in by the dirt and given a home here, below, in this awful place.

Ichor of the innocent to bind and control.

Before he can fall backwards Nik is there; familiar and solid and so so steady against the violent shaking that overcomes him.

He can still feel her— forces everything inside him to will himself not to see what happened next. Knows what was born from her spell, her devotion to the Elders, and her sacrifice.

Cassiopeia.

“She trusted them,” the words hang thick and dry on Taylor’s tongue, “she trusted them and they told her she was doing something good… she felt like she owed them.”

“And repaid that debt with her life…” Vera looks away; suddenly can’t stand to look at her.

Nik helps him back on his feet, brushes a hand through his hair and he leans into the warmth of it. Feels so cold now that the hot sting of Cassiopeia’s anguish is gone from him. Pulled out as if by a rusted hook embedded in his gut.

“Was it Reimonenq that did this to her?” asks Cade, who drags his finger along the curling edges of her wound.

“No, no… Elder Daniels, I think, was the one who sacrificed her.”

Nik frowns. “Why would you sacrifice the one doin’ the damn ritual?”

“The power in a ritual is beheld by the caster, obviously. With her death the entire thing should have been rendered null. But we all know that not to be the case.”

A strange look comes over the vampire’s expression for a moment; lips pursed thinly. He doesn’t look up from the body as he waves towards Vera. “Can you come here a moment? Take your glove off.”

“What? No!”

“Relax, you won’t be Touching me. I need you to Touch the witch’s hand.”

She looks between them all, Cassie’s body included, as if hoping one of them will speak up. “I won’t be Touchin’ anyone because I won’t do it. It’s too risky, especially here all… all cramped.”

“Please.”

Vera pleads at him silently. Taylor can feel her panic icy and crisp at the back of his throat. So he asks; “What do you think will happen?”

“If I’m correct,” whether he steps away from the altar and simply gestures, giving Vera space, is for her sake or his own is a mystery, “then nothing will happen at all.”

That it’s a risk he’s willing to take on behalf of Vera—that he isn’t the one doing the Touching and is all the more insistent anyway—is worrisome. But he’s their friend; they’re all in this together.

That—and the fact that if Katherine were down here she’d already be tugging Vera and her cursed hand forward without hesitation.

Curiosity, survival; whichever wins out it doesn’t matter. Not that it keeps the unfortunate inheritor of her family name from doing so slowly. As if trying to talk herself out of agreeing up until the last second.

“Which hand?”

“Either one will do,” then when her fingertips are a hair’s breadth away— “I seem to recall Derek wasn’t picky.”

Taylor wonders—quietly, in his head, and very much to himself—when the last time Vera actually touched another human was. Was there some sort of coming-of-age trigger for the curse? Or could she have been putting all the other toddlers on the playground at risk should she have decided to pull off her gloves and play tag?

Too long ago, the obvious answer. Obvious when Vera covers Cassiopeia’s hand first in fingertips — then her entire palm.

They wait. Nothing happens.

She shakes off her wrist—like this is something she’s at fault for—and tries again. Pushes this time enough to jostle the poor young sacrifice.

Again, nothing.

There’s a collective sigh of relief. All eyes on Cadence for answers, explanations, anything?

Nope. He just nods, as distantly academic as ever.

“So what does this mean?” Nik finally asks.

The last time he started rolling up his sleeves, Taylor witnessed Cadence’s transformation into some kind of merciless brute; a monster. Is it any wonder the hairs on the back of his neck stand up when he sees it again?

“It means I’m going to need something that can cut through bone.”

[rabbithole86]

A Tale of Beards and Lavender: Imagining the Secret Lesbian Club of Hollywood

It’s strange, but true: at least once a week I sit down and Google the celebrities I think might be not-straight. There’s Anna Kendrick and Brittany Snow (hoping the Bechloe romance of Pitch Perfect finally comes true), Leighton Meester (sure she married Adam Brody but…), Naomi Watts, and Emma Stone (to name a few). Up until fairly recently Ellen Page, Miley Cyrus and Kristen Stewart were also on my list. They make up what I like to imagine is the “Secret Lesbian Club” of Hollywood. In my mind, this is basically an underground ring of awesome gays who like to get together fairly frequently to watch Bound, talk about butch/femme aesthetic, read gender studies texts, and figure out ways to insert queer subtext into their work. And who do I imagine is at the centre of it all? Taylor Swift of course.

Some might say this is wishful thinking. But the thing is, when you spend most of your days thinking queerly (that is, making the familiar strange, particularly with regard to sexuality and gender), you can’t help but see the world through rainbow glasses. It seems to me that “normal” is entirely a fiction, and everyone is a lot queerer than all that. That doesn’t mean there aren’t people with “opposite-sex” or “heterosexual” desires, but just that: a) what we ordinarily make of pairings along these lines belies the complexity of human experience; and b) a lot of people are probably a lot less distinctly straight (or gay) than assumed. With this in mind I look to Hollywood, which produces so many of the cultural texts we consume that show visions of a perfectly normative heterosexual life. I spend much of my time—as is tradition in queer theory—re-reading texts differently, to uncover the hidden queer subtext in popular culture. So, why not re-read the lives of actors themselves, given that we can be 99% sure that the narratives produced about them by tabloids and other press are also entirely fiction?

For me Taylor Swift is the perfect example of someone we ought to re-read, because she is held up as the epitome of the normal, wholesome heterosexual girl of today. For one thing, she made her debut on the country music scene, which is notoriously unfriendly to the gays—despite producing a bevy of flamboyant stars who epitomise the queer concept of “camp” aesthetic (Dolly Parton, for example). The boy crushes of Swift are heavily interrogated in the media, and her relationships with women are (for the most part) understood as purely platonic. However, if you look a little closer, we can see a queer subtext in Swift’s life and oeuvre that suggests a rather more fluid expression of desire. Here are a few things to note:

She dated Taylor Lautner and it was really awkward:

There is no doubt that it is common practice in Hollywood for studios to pair stars up for promotional purposes. This is referred to as “showmance”. But there is also the well-known though little-discussed practice of “bearding” (typically this refers to setting up gay male actors with female stars) or in extreme cases “lavender marriage” where the charade involves putting a ring on it (Rock Hudson is one well-noted example). We can’t be sure whether is was a bearding scenario when Swift and Lautner got together, but they sure were very showy yet extremely uncomfortable together.

She used to have a pretty intense relationship with her violinist:

During her country music days, Swift toured with a band which included violinist Caitlin Evanson for eight years. Unlike those Taylor x Taylor pics, Taylor and her violinist had sparks galore. Evanson, who is ten years older than Swift once commented, “Taylor is a 40 year old in a 19 years olds body”, which is just the kind of thing you’d expect an older girlfriend to say about their younger lover.

There was that time she apparently kissed Karlie Kloss:

Karlie Kloss is supposed to be the closest of Swift’s girl-clan, and in 2014 they were spotted kissing at a club. The photos are pretty dodgy and might well be fake. But I include this point here because it started a bunch of rumours about Swift’s sexuality, which is important for the next point.

Her song “New Romantics” is probably about being more than straight:

Swift’s new single off 1989 includes a number of lyrics that reflect a queer subtext. These include:

1.”We show off our different scarlet letters— Trust me, mine is better”: given that scarlet letters refer to adultery, Swift is basically saying here “I’ve got other partners but they’re not who you expect”.

2. “We team up then switch sides like a record changer”: note here that Swift doesn’t seem to be just referring to switching partners, but switching sides.

3. “The rumors are terrible and cruel/But, honey, most of them are true”: this might be referring to the gay rumours as noted above.

4. “And every day is like a battle/But every night with us is like a dream”: this suggests an outside persona that clashes with what goes on behind closed doors, specifically with a partner.

5. “The best people in life are free”: this might refer to the practice of studios paying for beards. Swift is saying, the best people in life are not the ones you get contractually set up with.

“I Know Places” is about secret love

One thing you can say about Swift’s hetero romances, is that they are very very public. Instagram pictures posted by Swift, hundreds of photos in gossip magazines, TV interviews, and so on. However this song from 1989 refers to a love that Swift must hide away. The song also starts with “You stand with your hand on my waist line/It’s a scene and we’re out here in plain sight”, which suggests a romance that might not be perceived as one at first. This might be a reference to that phenomenon that people will believe anything before they believe you’re in a gay relationship—i.e. “oh, you’re sisters?” or “you guys are such cute best friends” etc.

Let’s be clear here: I don’t want to essentialise sexuality, like it’s some nugget of “truth” that can simply be unearthed like a buried crystal. But I do think there is some benefit in cracking open what is considered normal, so that we can begin to see how this is really just a fiction that *no one* lives up to. This also isn’t to condemn those who do not “come out” of the proverbial closet, because we ought to realise that attempting to live up to the fiction of normality is often enacted as a mode of survival. The horrible reality is that once stars come out they can’t survive easily in Hollywood. Among others, Ellen Page has talked about how she has struggled to get parts playing straight characters since publicly declaring her sexuality.

In any case, you might be thinking: why care about Taylor Swift’s sexuality anyway—shouldn’t that be none of our business? Fair point. Perhaps when you apply a queer “re-reading” to real people it can all get a little…gossipy. Despite this, I continue to hold onto the fantasy that our icons of culture aren’t all that straight and narrow. I think I care so much because I grew up looking and acting pretty heteronormative, and was treated as such. But while I had mad crushes on boys and aspired to extreme girliness in aesthetic, my desires were not simply straight. I had girl crushes too, I just didn’t know how to make sense of my complex range of feelings. I guess that’s why I hang onto the idea that there’s a Secret Lesbian Club in Hollywood, headed by the girliest boy-mad celebrity of all…because in that alternate universe, sexuality might be hidden but it sure isn’t black and white. 

source

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

🎶 and airel blossom!!!

Sober II (Melodrama), Lorde - Know you won't remember in the morning/When I speak my mind/Lights are on and they've gone home/But who am I?/Oh, how fast the evening passes/Cleaning up the champagne glasses & And the terror, and the horror/God, I wonder why we bother & All the glamour, and the trauma/And the fucking melodrama & They'll talk about us, and discover/How we kissed and killed each other

Cherry Bomb, The Runaways - Can't stay at home, can't stay at school/Old folks say 'You poor little fool' & Hello world! I'm your wild girl/I'm your ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!

New Romantics, Taylor Swift - We're so young but we're on the road to ruin/We play dumb but we know exactly what we're doing & Cause, baby, I could build a castle/Out of all the bricks they threw at me & Heart break is the national anthem/We sing it proudly & The rumors are terrible and cruel/But, honey, most of them are true

Filthy Rich, Evalyn - Kids online say I have too much fun/I get high with the spotlight on/Baby when the crowd goes home/I'm all alone and I've got no one & I thought you knew I'm filthy rich/I thought you knew I never answer my phone/I thought you knew I was a bitch/I got a driver so I'm never alone

The Lucky One, Taylor Swift - In the angel's city/Chasing fortune and fame/And the camera flashes, make it look like a dream & You had it figured out since you were in school/Everybody loves pretty, everybody loves cool & And they tell you that you’re lucky/But you’re so confused/Cause you don’t feel pretty, you just feel used/And all the young things line up to take your place & Another name goes up in lights/You wonder if you’ll make it out alive

Blow Your Mind (Mwah), Dua Lipa - And tonight I'm alive, ain't no dollar sign/Guaranteed, I can blow your mind, mwah & If you don't like the way I talk, then why am I on your mind?

Send me 🎶 and a character/ship, and I’ll give you a song

[happywriter-happywriting]

The Shadow And His Light

Chapter One: Chance

The Shadow And His light

Chapter One: Chance

ELRIEL!

An ACOTAR fanfic. I do not own these characters, they are the property of Queen Sarah J. Maas.

********************************************

Each narrow breath Elain took was restricted by the tight corset of her long peach dress. She always dreamed of a peach wedding dress. She always dreamed of a peach wedding. Not white and stiff like the formal gatherings her human friends had back in Prythian. She dreamed of pink sunsets and lilac blossoms in her hair.

She also dreamed of knowing the groom.

Elain sighed at the thought. It had been years since the war against Hybern; since the day she, Nesta, and her father were thrown into that damned Cauldron. In the aftermath, Nesta’s pent up anger toward their father drove her away. Elain had decided to stay with him rather than follow in Nesta’s angry footsteps. It was hard at times, being so far away from both her sister’s, but her father needed her. They needed each other to help adjust.

But now, times were different. Her father had adjusted to the Fae lifestyle in record time, seeing the open market for trade in this new land; leaving Elain on her own most of the time. She had agreed to the arrangement her father made for her, only because she knew it was good for his business. But truthfully she was petrified. And rightly so, she had heard stories of the Shadow Prince; cruel, unforgiving stories.

She stared out the second story window that overlooked her gardens, the lavender sprigs swaying in the light Day Court breaze. Her father’s manor was located just on the outskirts of Day and Dawn, where he conducted most of his business. This marriage would help to bring stronger union with both the Night Court and Illyrian camps.

While Ferye had been fortunate enough to marry for love, their father had seen it necessary to step in on Elain’s behalf. The Shadow prince, Azriel, was to be her match. He was a friend of both her sisters, so how bad could he really be? But the rumors still echoed in her mind. And no matter how hard she tried to shove them aside and give him the benefit of the doubt, she could not help but shudder at the brutality his name brought to mind.

Her bedroom door closed, meaning her ladies in waiting had left until the ceremony started. She finally turned from the window, her eyes catching on random items around the room, her dresser, the bed, her two trunks- already packed, ready to leave with him tonight. She paused, looking toward the garden again, what harm could one more walk do? After all, I don’t even have a bouquet.

Finding her resolve, she went to her balcony, carefully descending her own personal stairway to the garden. She breathed deep (or as deep as she could) the sweet yellow roses that had only just started to blossom. She felt a tug in her heart that she would not be home to see them in full bloom.

She had just planted some beautiful pink Ranunculus that would match perfectly with her gown. She started the trek across the gardens, occasionally stopping to pluck a few other fillers, Baby's-Breath, eucalyptus, and the like. She had planted the dusty pink flowers in her personal favorite spot; a small enclosure surrounded by hedges, with a copper bench and shady oak tree in the middle.

As she rounded the hedge, the first thing she noticed was a dark, hulking figure, lounging on her bench.

“Oh,” she squeaked. The male had his wings spread wide in the sunshine, a wicked blade strapped to his belt. Elain guessed he was in her groom’s party, his clothes reminiscent of Night. He looked up when she spoke.

“Hello.” She made to move for her flowers, “I was just coming for a bouquet.” The male didn’t speak, only nodded.

She made it to the delicate blossoms and picked a few in full bloom. She glanced at the male from the corner of her eye. He wasn’t looking at her.

“I suppose he’s up there getting ready.” She glanced up at the window that overlooked this corner of the garden, the guest suite. “I’m to be his bride in an hour,” her voice quivered, betraying her anxiety. She finished plucking, having decided on six healthy blossoms.

When she turned back to the male his wings were tucked in tight, he looked uneasy, but then again so did she. Elain made brief eye contact, his hazel eyes twinkled in the sun.

“Do you know him well?” She gestured up to the window with her free hand.

“I do,” his voice was deep and matter of fact, but not unkind. Rich.

She nodded, taking a few steps alongside the hedge, occasionally picking at dead leaves. “And is he…” her throat squeezed in on itself, “Is he as cruel and unfeeling as all the stories say?” the air seemed to rip from her lungs in tight bursts.

When she looked again the strangers eyes shone with something akin to sympathy, “Only in business” his tone held promise.

But Elain only laughed, breathless, “But then I suppose, I am nothing more than a business arrangement.” She looked down at the soft grass.

“No, miss.” he leaned forward, “I know his intentions. He will treat you well,” he was serious and when she looked into his eyes again she believed him.

“Well then,” She looked around the small corner of the garden, “I’m going to miss this most,” her voice was soft against the wind. She held a purple tulip in her palm, breathing in the sweet honeysuckle air around her. “This is my own personal garden, I am its sole caretaker. No one but me plants or pulls up its weeds.”

The male leaned back again looking around as if seeing his surrounding in a new light, “It is beautiful,” he conceded after a moment.

“I’ll bet there isn’t much room in the Shadows for a garden, even a very small one” she wished her tone didn’t sound so sad and pathetic, but the garden truly was her best joy.

The stranger gracefully stood up from the bench, his hands behind his back, “On the contrary,” he stated, “There is plenty of land on his estate.” His eyes were playful as he looked toward her, “He’s not much of a gardener though, it’s all overgrown and wild. I’m sure he will let you tend to it.”

Elain recognised his sincerity and smiled. They both paused as a lazy bumblebee flew between them. “You’re very kind to reassure me,” She glanced back at her bouquet and sighed, a faint smile on her lips.

“Lady Elain!” Arina, her maid bustled into the hidden corner, “Your dress,” her voice was full of distress. When Elain looked to her hem, it was indeed crusted in brown earth.

She laughed lightly, “Well, I do hope my groom-to-be isn’t afraid of a little dirt.” The male before her smiled broadly.

“Nevermind, miss, it's too late now.” Arina reached for her hand and started pulling her through the hedges, “the ceremony is about to begin!”

Elain gently withdrew her hand from the giddy maid and turned back to the stranger, still smiling, “It was very nice to meet you,” she spoke softly.

He bowed at the waist, “You as well, Elain.” her name was a whisper on his lips. His eyes a glimmer of mystery.

Elain turned back to her Arina, taking her hand once again, letting the maid lead her to her fate.

***********

Azriel watched her go, feeling his unease disappear by the second. She had startled him at first, her gentleness had caught him off guard, so different from her two sisters. He stood, making his way back to his room. Rhys and Cass were waiting for him there. He worried his chance meeting would prove disastrous, should he have come out right and told her who he was? Would that have made it worse? He shook off his anxiety, thinking back to her bright smile. Her honeyed hair was left wild around her pale shoulders. He found himself smiling at the memory of her. He desperately wanted to make her happy.

The arrangement was not something he would have initially considered. Feyre had told such terrible stories of her father’s uncontrollable gambling and greed when it came to business. When Azriel had first received the offer of her hand in marriage, he had refused outright, thinking it was some scheem her father forced upon her. His spies later relayed that she had agreed to the match of her own free will. Cauldron, he could not fathom why, given all the stories about him. In the end Azriel agreed to the union if only to save her from a worse match. He heard rumor that her father was venturing to start business in the Autumn Court. Azriel physically shuttered at the idea of her locked away, keeping a Vanserra’s bed warm.

He made it back to his room without running into her again. The ceremony was about to start, Rhysand was waiting in front of his door, “You ready?” his black suit was pressed to perfection. Azriel only nodded in response. “Cass is already out there” The two males began the long walk toward the reception hall. Azriel could see his reflection in the polished marble floors, he did not look as agitated as he had an hour ago. Rhysand squeezed his shoulder, “You’re doing a good thing, brother.” He knew Rhysand was right. This would be a good match. He would make sure of it.

[thoseflashinggreeneyes]

“New Romantics” is the queer anthem we need right now.

One of Taylor’s best songs ever is also one of her gayest: “New Romantics” employs some of her most brilliant lyrical tricks to construct a narrative that’s clever, moving, and, for lack of a better phrase, hella hella gay. First, let’s talk about the structure of the lyrics: The verses all end in couplets (ABABCC rhyme structure as opposed to the pre-chorus and chorus, which are both ABAB) -- in poetry, you use a couplet to draw attention to something, to emphasize a point. Let’s see what she has to say: We're all bored We're all so tired of everything We wait for Trains that just aren't coming

When Rob Sheffield of Rolling Stone named this the second best song of 2014, he called boredom “the least Tay of emotions.” But if this is a song about breaking the cycle of bearding -- as Taylor did in 2014 -- this verse sets up the dreary monotony of being in the closet, pretending to be someone you’re not. She brings the point home in the couplet:

We show off our different scarlet letters Trust me, mine is better

What’s Tay’s scarlet letter? Her love ‘em and leave ‘em inability to keep a man? No -- that’s the character she parodies in “Blank Space.” This song is about her real scarlet letter, the one we don’t know about: her queerness and all the lies that come with it. Let’s skip ahead to the third verse to see why:

We're all here The lights and boys are blinding We hang back It's all in the timing

Something is already off here: The rhyme structure is broken. Instead of the perfect ABABCC of every other verse, verse 3 gives us ABCBDD. This could just be sloppy writing, but that’s not Taylor -- this verse is meant to undermine our sense of stability in the song, to prick up our ears. This works in the context of the lyrics -- Taylor being blinded by the boys and lights (presumably media attention/camera flashes?) -- but it also serves to make us pay close attention to her next couplet:

It's poker, he can't see it in my face But I'm about to play my Ace

What’s her Ace? Her scarlet letter, of course -- her bright red A, the Ace of Hearts. And she’s about to tell us exactly what it is:

We need love But all we want is danger We team up Then switch sides like a record changer

“We need love, but all we want is danger” can read like she wants danger instead of love, but I don’t think that’s what’s happening here. What if we read the line like this instead: “We need love, but everything we want is dangerous.” That fits thematically with Taylor’s other work in songs like “Treacherous” and “Style,” and it also makes sense in the context of the next line. What exactly does it mean to “switch sides like record changer”? What even is a record changer? There’s a vague allusion to turning over a record on a turntable here, but Taylor is making up words because she’s telling us something else: that she’s teaming up with someone to change the record about her dangerous love life. And “record” here is a triple meaning -- it also alludes to the songs on this record, which can literally change sides as you flip the LP over, but can also change sides in terms of who she’s singing about depending on whether you know the truth about her scarlet letter, her Ace.

The rumors are terrible and cruel, But honey, most of them are true

Taylor punctuates this verse with a wink to those of us who’ve heard the rumors about her: She’s heard them too, and she wants to tell us they’re true. 

This brings us to the second pre-chorus and chorus, and to the essential question of the song: Who is “we”? Is this a platonic song about Taylor and her girlfriends (and, by extension, single people everywhere), or is this a romantic song about Taylor and her girlfriend (and, by extension, queer people everywhere)? 

Baby, we're the new romantics Come on, come along with me Heartbreak is the national anthem We sing it proudly We are too busy dancing To get knocked off our feet Baby, we're the new romantics The best people in life are free

We’re too busy going out with our friends to fall in love, we sing proudly about our heartbreaks, the best people in life are single. Yep, that works! But it ignores the broader context of the song -- let’s take a look at the bridge, where everything slows down a LOT (again, Taylor is telling us to pay attention):

Please take my hand and Please take me dancing and Please leave me stranded It's so romantic

The rhyme structure here (AAAA with lots of word repetition and proximate rhyme, a trick often used by noted lesbian Emily Dickinson) is like a big flashing sign: HEY, THIS IS WHAT THE SONG IS ABOUT. And it doesn’t sound platonic at all -- it sounds like dancing with your girlfriend in public, only to have her leave you alone lest she confirm those terribly cruel rumors. (This bridge is also a prelude to “Dancing With Our Hands Tied” as surely as “Every day is like a battle, but every night with us is like a dream” is a prelude to “...Ready for it?”.)

The song is called “New Romantics.” She’s telling us, as clearly as she can, that this is a song about romance. Taylor has taken all the bricks people have thrown at her -- at this point, still largely about how boy-crazy she is -- and built a castle where she can be free with her girlfriend. Read this way, we can see a new meaning for the first verse of “Call It What You Want”:

My castle crumbled overnight I brought a knife to a gunfight They took the crown but it’s all right

This verse reads like it’s about the Kimye controversy, but I think it’s also about kissgate. Taylor built a glass castle of safety for herself and Karlie, and when it collapsed, her crown (i.e. the king of her heart) was taken from her. They had to go back into hiding (“nobody’s heard from me for months”), but they found a deeper, truer love all on their own.

“New Romantics” is one of Taylor’s best songs ever -- not just because the melody is amazing and the lyrics are killer, but because it takes the language of heartbreak and turns it into an anthem of strength for Taylor and for every queer person who has ever had to hide who we are. She opens 1989 by telling us we can want who we want, and she closes it by telling us the same thing: The best people in life are free. 

[dhr-ao3]

the rumors are terrible and cruel

the rumors are terrible and cruel https://ift.tt/bxS8fgi by silentrevyrie (but honey, most of them are true) It’s one thing telling you’re friends you’re pregnant unexpectedly. It’s quite another to tell them when they don’t realize you’ve been dating anyone. In which Hermione and Draco navigate an unplanned pregnancy in an adulthood neither of them thought they’d have. Words: 3753, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley, Lavender Brown, Blaise Zabini, Dean Thomas, Theodore Nott, Neville Longbottom, Pansy Parkinson, Narcissa Black Malfoy Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Secret Relationship, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Auror Draco Malfoy, Head Auror Harry Potter via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/U14rYHs December 12, 2022 at 12:12AM

[addressedtothefire]

I’m just not sure this all thematically makes sense? Blank Space was an sarcastic embrace—and ultimate rejection—of the character that “Taylor Swift” had been made into. It was Taylor saying, “This is who you think I am? Then let me exaggerate it to such a point you’ll see how obviously ridiculous this idea of me has been all along.” She was satirizing the character she had been made into, to prove that she had never been that character in the first place. Look What You Made Me Do is just....Taylor being that character in the first place. Proving her haters were right about her all along.

The way to salvage that is to say it’s satire again—making castles out of the bricks they threw at her; they called her a snake so she became a snake—but, Blank Space worked as a satire because it was so over-the-top that it was clear what Taylor really meant by it, even as undertones of truth filtered through (the posters in the music video Visa app thing that showed her old lyrics from Picture to Burn, etc painted in red over exes’ portraits, the line in New Romantics saying “The rumors are terrible and cruel / but honey most of them are true,” the fact that the over-the-top Taylor character’s coy lyric in Blank Space “Love’s a game, want to play?” seemingly matched real-life Taylor’s own perception of love, as written into State of Grace: “Love is a ruthless game / unless you play it good and right”). And Look What You Made Me Do is just cover-to-cover these truthful undertones, highlighted, underlined in red by the fact that the mere fact of Taylor doing this sort of song, again, sort of proves what her character is in the first place. Someone doesn’t end up in the same situation this many times without there being an underlying reason. And the reason given by Taylor in the song is too convincing to brush off as sarcasm, as irony, as satire: She ends up in these situations because she doesn’t let this go, because she is, however you take this to mean, a snake, because she is deadly focused on karma and retribution and knowing there’s nothing she does better than revenge. And maybe we were fools to think otherwise.