#unholyrite

[batman-hp7narnia]

FUCK YOU MARVEL

[ohfiendangelical]

@unholyrite​​​ SAID: "if i see you again, i’ll take your eyes.” - from taylor <3 ☆ MEME: dark & thrilling prompts ☆ send FANMAIL!

          “Excuse me?”          He’s laughing, vaguely unsettled but not taking the threat too seriously.          “Why? Have I done something to offend you?”

Probably. He doesn’t know what he might’ve done to upset this woman, but surely it was something; he is a rather polarizing figure, after all. She also looks vaguely familiar — maybe he slept with her at a party and forgot to call, or perhaps he tried to kill her in a drug-induced fit.

He does not remember the night in the garden, and it never once crosses his mind that perhaps she is the elusive Taylor, here to defend Willow’s honor.

[unpossession]

@unholyrite​

                “Another  teenager  posted  us  on  tiktok  today.”           Willow says with only a little smidgen of disbelief. The video was short. Just a short clip of Arlo fixing up a few stray hairs atop her head and looping his arms around her shoulder from behind. With no identifying features other than Willow’s joking affirmation that  she’d  “know that ass anywhere”, it’s a pretty harmless video. But it does bother her that people keep whipping out their phones anytime they see a couple be remotely sweet to each other in public. It makes her want to stay inside forever.       “Look: it’s captioned  ‘Lord, I see what you've done for others...’, I think somebody wants you.” 

[unpossession]

He’s  been  batting  his  eyes  at  her,  grinning like a smug idiot that just won the Smug Idiot Prize of the Year ever since he stood up from tying her shoelace, knowing exactly why her face is red and her heart is pounding, but making her explain to him anyway, why, Willow dearest, does you look so flushed? as though he didn’t completely set her up to think that perhaps there might be a ring in his pocket and that he might, in fact, be asking her something very serious and important. 

Sure, they aren’t even really officially, outwardly dating yet - lots of loose ends and emotional maturing to do before they can start acting like adults and... booking reservations and making out on ferris wheels together, whatever it is that people in serious relationships do - and, as Arlo stands there laughing at her, he points out another foil to her plan: 

❝ isn’t it a little cliche to get engaged on christmas? ❞  ---  @unholyrite

He knows he has her. She wishes he would do her the courtesy of at least looking away from her for a minute so she can be ashamed of herself in private, but he loves the look on her face when she’s losing the imaginary pissing contest Willow always plays with him in her head, so he doesn’t. Just smirks, just beams, absolutely delighted by her clear and obvious embarrassment of her own deep, deep, feelings.         You like me, admit it, you like me! 

Willow is flustered. 

              “--Um, yeah, obviously! It’s not like I wanted you to be proposing anyway! I just panicked thinking that you might be! You knew exactly what you were doing! Your shoe wasn’t even untied when you knelt down! We’re all under mistletoe and at a pretty park and you said you had an important question and then you knelt! It is not out of the realm of possibility that you---!!”         Oh, great, now he’s outwardly grinning at her. She throws her hands into the air, exasperated.         “I hate you!” 

[unpossession]

Willow is the rare Halloween Enjoyer that is equally obsessed with the Christmas Season as she is the Spooky Season. Halloween makes her feel alive, electric, but Christmas lights a fire in her that makes her seem... Maybe a little warmer on the inside. Like she isn’t dying a slow death caused by loneliness of the soul. She sings Christmas songs, she bakes cookies that leave her hair smelling of brown sugar and chocolate chips, she even hand-makes her own cards, for the really special people in her life -- so she feels she has surprised the Wright siblings with her enthusiasm for celebrating the season properly. 

She has her hands clasped together, swaying from side to side in her seat, a little tipsy and red in the face with the slight buzz of the mulled wine she’s been guzzling all afternoon as they discuss the number of Christmas parties they’ve been invited to. Willow, full of surprises and jubilance since Arlo’s return home from hospital, has been agreeing to accompanying them to every single one. Right now, they’re on the topic of a work function: 

❝ let’s wear matching ugly Christmas sweaters to the party! ❞         Arlo suggests, grinning, and Willow is all too quick to squeak with excitement at the idea, drowning out any groans of protest from Taylor, who is  not as enthused with the idea of being The Three Musketeers of ugly partywear. 

                    “Yes! Perfect idea. I love it. I love Christmas jumpers... We should go shopping!!” 

@unholyrite

[loetise]

spotify wrapped meme, accepting.  ˎˊ˗

"  i  would  go  over  just  to  see  what  he  wants,  i  have  to  experience  it  in  person.  "

@unholyrite​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​,    send  a  🎁  for  me  to  shuffle.  (  dumbitchitis,  yung  cxreal  and  baby  frankie  )

[unpossession]

*    #29   -   two-headed mother, ethel cain.    /   @unholyrite  asked for a spotify wrapped inspired starter!

           “Kissing tyrannical heads spitting at you, babe, fire you wade through...”             Willow is not awake, her eyes groggy with sleep and her speech slurred, she’s mumbling into the tape recorder she keeps at her bedside for these instances, the words bouncing in a rhythm that make sense to her half-asleep mind but absolutely none at all in the real world, nonsense translating into nonsense. Inspiration often strikes in her dreams, this way she always remembers it all -- even if none of it makes any sense at all. 

The problem is, with her new bed being Arlo’s sofa, is that she isn’t as alone as she thinks she is while she empties out her brain-bank. The amusement is thick in Arlo’s voice as he looks over from his chair, appearing to Willow as some creature from her dreams. Faceless, but smiling. Background noise. 

                              “You what?” 

Willow seems almost annoyed by the simple question, groaning, still unaware that this intrusion isn’t part of her dreams. 

                 “Two-headed mother pullеd you from the black.. And she can send you back.”           Then realisation washes over her like a bucket of ice. She opens her eyes.      “Hey--- fuck you, this is my... I’m sleeping...” 

[unpossession]

It’s  time  for  an  honest  conversation.     With Arlo recovering now and them returning to their apartment together, it feels much like returning to the scene of a crime. Like something was murdered in there. Willow and Taylor have a lot to talk about and she isn’t sure she’ll ever be ready. Her stomach hurts, but in the back of the Uber she steels herself to do so because what happened the last time can never happen again. She holds on to Taylor’s hand like a vice, her fingers are rigid and cold. Inside it’s no better. It feels like a broken place. 

There is some beating around the bush; things are, after all, peaceful and even happy between the two of them since their reunion. They have been acting like sisters again, joined at the hip, leaning on each other for support - why rock the boat? But being here drudges back up all the dark, sticky feelings that Willow tries so hard to peel herself from when they’re in the hospital.

It doesn’t all just go away just because Arlo got hurt bad enough to scare her into coming back to her senses just a little...  They’re each holding a cup of tea in their hands, looking at each other, Willow desperately wishes to invite her inside of her mind. To witness all her contradictions the way Willow feels them; they don’t translate into words well. Not even with Willow’s talent for the craft. 

               “Whatever, um, whatever I say after this... I want you to know I love you. It’s not-- a reflection.. On how I feel about you. If you could please just hear me out... Just -- I love you, okay? I love you.” 

                    “You tell me you love me like it'll be thе last time. Like you're playing out thе end of a storyline...”  Taylor seems to be preparing herself, her guard going up in spite of Willow’s desperation for complete acceptance. 

Willow bows her head. 

            “It’s not -- the... It’s not the end. It just feels that way... I feel that way a lot. I -- what I said... Before, about wanting to die. It’s -- it was horrible. It was a horrible way to say it... But it wasn’t... I wasn’t completely lying, Taylor. I -- I feel like I want to die... I feel it so much. I don’t always want to. I try not to. But I -- I do. I feel it a lot. I’ve felt it for as long as I can remember. Even before... Even before I wrote my book.” 

*    #03   -   please stay, lucy dacus.    /   @unholyrite  asked for a spotify wrapped inspired starter!