perfectionturnednightmare

[perfectionturnednightmare]

thebrcwneyeddaughter:

When you weren’t okay, something about that question had a deep tug on your soul. Because the only reason someone would ask that, was if they could very clearly see that you were not okay. And she knew she wasn’t masking it, hell, what would be the point of that? But the question still hit her, a breakable nerve inside of her, and she felt her eyes well up with tears.

So goddamn weak. Out of the fear of crying out, Violet withheld any vocal response and simply shook her head, her cheeks turning red and tears spilling over only to be caught by the sleeve of her cardigan as she wiped it across her face. How did she let herself become so weak?

Swallowing as he watched the emotions cross her face, Tate bit his lip. Something had hurt her. Or someone. If his suspicions were correct, the blonde could feel the anger building up inside. If Spencer had done this to her, Tate could kill him--would kill him. Kill him however many times it took before the stupid ghost never came back. 

Moving quickly, his arms wrapped around Violet’s slender frame. One hand slowly eased up and down her spine--trying to ease her as well as he could. His cheek laid on the top of her head. He couldn’t really find the words, didn’t know what to say. How was he supposed to help her when he already done so much to hurt her? “I’m here...I’m sorry...” 

[perfectionturnednightmare]

Peer into my muse's memories

❤️- A happy memory that makes them smile

💙- A sad memory that makes them cry

💛- A memory that makes them feel angry

💚- A memory that makes them feel guilty

💜- A memory about one of their loved ones, happy or sad

💔- A memory that leaves them feeling lonely

❣- A memory that leaves them laughing

💕- A memory about their significant other

💞- A memory about their children

💓- A memory about their friends

💗- A memory about a good deed they did

💖- A memory that made them feel special

💝- A memory that made them feel loved

💘- A memory that gets their heart pounding

💟- Wildcard!!!

[perfectionturnednightmare]

thebrcwneyeddaughter:

As soon as their eyes met, Vi’s gaze shifted awkwardly to the floor. And once he spoke, she hesitated to do so herself. But she did manage to get out a quiet, “…no.” It’d been so long since she’d let herself get like this. Lines stung under her sleeves where she’d relapsed, quick clean marks she’d dug into herself with a knife.

A knife. That was a new one for her, but it worked well as it was serrated. It wasn’t like she had to worry about bleeding out without knowing she’d come to in a few hours. But she didn’t bleed much at all. Nor did she regret it. And Tate’s sudden presence was the metaphorical gauze she’d needed. Although still empty and lacking emotion, being around him somehow made her feel, perhaps in the smallest way, alright.

“I don’t really know why I’m here,” she finally added, eyes now attached to the very spot where her body had decayed. “I…” 

Tate’s eyes followed Violet’s as she gazed at the spot where her body had been. Something was different. That last time the blonde teenager had seen her, she had been happy. Or...at least she appeared to be. Scowling, he remembered who she had been seeing, but quickly pushed it out of his mind. The mophead didn’t like thinking about the dumbass that Violet had let into her life, or the fact that she had chosen him over Tate.

He had messed up a lot. He had done a lot for the reasons that Violet used to keep him at arm's length made sense. But he still loved her. He still did everything to show her how sorry he was for everything he did all those years ago. He even thought he had finally been able to move on. Find something else. Someone else. But he was still left all alone because of past decisions. Dammit, why was all of this so hard?

Biting his lip, Tate’s eyes slid back to hers. She looked so sad. Looked like the same girl that had moved into this house. Lost. Alone. Why was she suddenly so lonely looking?

“Are you okay?” 

[perfectionturnednightmare]

thebrcwneyeddaughter:

There was an unusual pull to the spot where Violet had tried to keep away from for nearly a year now. The crawlspace was not a happy place, held little to no happy memories, perhaps a bit of peace… for it was the place where the truth was uncovered. Where things came together and started making sense, in some cruel way. 

There was a certain sadness plaguing the ghost, much like how it used to when she didn’t know she was dead. She was tired, lonely, misunderstood, and pitying herself. However that was something she’d never admit. She didn’t even like coming to terms with it. Violet Harmon felt bad for herself.

Crawling into the space, Vi swept her hair out of her face as a certain spirit came into view. Perhaps it wasn’t the spot at all that was calling her —- but rather the gloomy boy inhabiting it. Straightening her posture if only a little, sullen brown eyes kept to the ground as she did nothing but clear her throat lightly to announce her presence.

Hearing an all too familiar clearing of the throat, Tate blinked slowly. Only one other person knew about this crawlspace. And why she was down here the blonde would have never understood. Not with how its history tied to hers. 

Swallowing softly, Tate looked over his shoulder. A spark of curiosity entered his eyes but quickly died as their eyes met. Was he supposed to talk? Yes, that would have been a good start considering she was the one that cleared her throat. With the infinite hole seeming to stretch between them, Noah couldn’t help but feel the slight heartache of being so alone. 

“Did you want me to go?” 

It was technically her spot--even if he had put her there. He would completely understand if she wanted him gone. All she had to do was speak those two little words. 

[perfectionturnednightmare]

@thebrcwneyeddaughter

It felt like a century since the last time Tate had crawled into the small area underneath the house. It hadn’t been a place that he wanted to be since he was forced to reveal to Violet her decomposing body. It still reeked of that body. He should have done something else with it. Buried it. Told her before the body had gotten so bad. Anything than what he had done. 

Staring at the spot where her body had once laid, the blonde bit his lip. What would have happened had he done everything differently? Why was this a question that constantly plagued his mind? 

Everything he had done since Violet had moved into the house had found its way to blow up in his face. Even years later. Of course, he was still making the same mistakes. Maybe he hadn’t raped anyone but he sure as hell gave people reasons to push him away. 

He had stayed completely motionless as he continued to stare at the little spot. The light slowly going out of his eyes as the minutes ticked by. 

[perfectionturnednightmare]

@thebrcwneyeddaughter Another year, another Halloween to celebrate. At least this year would be less stressful than the one before. Confronting his past had taken a lot out of the spirit, and while the blonde could never really escape or undo what he had done, at least he had apologized. Tate's eyes watched as the clock ticked down to midnight, feeling his soul lift slightly as the barrier did. Ghosting to the front porch, the boy waited--ready for his adventure to begin, but patient enough to wait for Violet.

[perfectionturnednightmare]

The thud of the tiny red ball against the floor as he walked was seemingly soothing to Tate's nerves as he walked through the hallways of the house. The blonde mop head didn't have a destination in mind--but since he knew every inch of the house, it didn't really matter. He was mostly looking for some inspiration on what to do next with his afterlife. Too much of it had become a dead end and he was tired of it. Noticing an old decorative vase, Tate flung the ball towards--missing it by just an inch.

[perfectionturnednightmare]

His face cringed slightly at the fruity yet dry taste. Alcohol was definitely not his thing. Violet’s question only caused Tate to cringe even more, his eyes falling back to the ground. Did he want to talk about it? If anyone understood him, he guessed it would be the girl he loved. Sighing, he sat back in the chair, his hand swirling the glass still filled with wine. “I like....I like this girl,” the blonde said, hesitantly. “...She found out about everything I’ve done...and she wants nothing to do with me.” 

Vi watched him as he brought the glass to his lips, idly mimicking him and taking a sip for herself. She could barely even taste it anymore, since she’d polished off a few glasses already. Now it was just fuel to keep her going, keep her feeling numb and laid-back. “You wanna talk about it?” The spirit asked after a few moments of silence had passed. She knew Tate well enough to pick up on when he was feeling particularly down, and her curiosity was getting the better of her.

[perfectionturnednightmare]

Y’know...my mom likes her stories too...you two would hit it off. 

I’m watching the telly.

[perfectionturnednightmare]

the-brown-eyed-daughter:

Cracking her knuckles in tight fists, Violet only wanted to wake herself up from the nightmare that she was enduring. That’s when she noticed that the boy before her set the gun down to his side – which only caused her to furrow her brows. This wasn’t usually how these thoughts ended, he never put the gun down. She had nightmares similar to this before, but none of them felt so real, and none of them allowed her to notice all the little things she was. 

Suddenly, with his hand lifting her head by her chin, Violet was caught off guard when his lips crashed into hers. Her head was already spinning from the anxiety of thinking she was about to be shot – and then a kiss? Every little detail was standing out to her. The familiar scent of his, the way his hand felt on her face, how his cold skin still somehow kept her warm. It was too much to take in, and she didn’t understand how her thoughts had twisted from a nightmare to visiting the past. With her eyes shutting tight, her hands found their way to grip onto his shirt, in one moment clinging to him, and the next she pushed herself away from him harshly, not only breaking the kiss but breaking herself out of the dreamworld that he’d brought her into.

Shooting up from her spot on the couch, Vi took in a deep breath – eyes wide as she looked around the dark, abandoned library. Not a soul could be seen, to her anyway. Bringing her knees up, the girl shut her eyes again, resting her chin between the crevice of her knees. Her expression was a pained one, her teeth pinning her cheeks as she held back what felt like would be a flood of tears, and suppressed emotion.

It was insane for him to be kissing her now. He was supposed to be teaching her a lesson, showing her what it was like to be scared. To have something you cherished ripped away from you. But her lips sent Tate reeling back to how it was when she was alive. The aching in his chest didn’t lessen as his hand moved to the back of her neck--trying in vain to keep her close to him. Her lips were drowning out every common sense trigger that was going off in his head. He could feel the warmth that was starting to pass through him once more--almost like it was meant to happen that way whenever they were close. 

Startled as she pushed away, Tate was sucked out of the little dreamworld and back into reality. It took him a minute to readjust to his surroundings, but soon the library was in focus and he could do nothing but stand there. It had to have been shock--that was the first time he had attempted entering someone’s dreams so that was the only explanation for it. He couldn’t focus on what he had just done in said dream--instead he had to get as far away from the library as possible. It was too much. Hands moving up to cover his eyes, he ghosted away--back to his hiding spot in the basement. 

Dream A Little Dream//Tate & Violet

[perfectionturnednightmare]

Oh...

Pegged you for one of the living. Nevermind...go down and die as many times as you’d like. 

It’s not my first time, Damian. I’ll be fine.

[perfectionturnednightmare]

The brief moment that Violet was gone Tate sunk down into the chair, his eyes stuck on the floor. It wasn’t until she showed back up with more wine and glasses that he looked back up from his spot--his eyes now resting on the glasses. He had never really liked to drink, his mother and her actions making him less than enthused with the effects alcohol had; however, tonight he was willing to make an exception. Pouring some wine in the empty glass, he mumbled a small thanks before sipping at the drink curiously. 

Turning to face him in a quick moment, Vi’s expression didn’t say much. She looked at him for a moment, and it was true —- he looked absolutely miserable. “Wait.” She requested, her voice low. Ghosting away, it took her less than a minute to return. With her, she’d brought another bottle of wine and an additional glass. The ghost moved quickly to take her seat again, after setting the bottle and glasses down on the small table between them. Pouring herself another glass, she then pushed the bottle toward him. Now, whether or not he’d want to drink —- she wasn’t sure, but the gesture couldn’t hurt, right? “It might help,” she shrugged lightly, sinking back into her seat as delicate fingers cupped the glass in her hands.

[perfectionturnednightmare]

Tate paused at her words--his body still tingling from the almost ghosting he had just been preparing to do. Eyes following her as she went to the bed and came back again, his eyes fell to the present she held out. Hand closing around the box, the blonde still couldn’t meet Olivia’s eyes. A small nod was the only indication he gave before ghosting away. 

Olivia retracted her hand, setting it back in her lap. “I mean it, Tate” the witch said, moving to stand up. “I just need a little time to process this, that’s all.” She looked down at his comment, glancing over to her bed. “Before you go, I have something for you,” Olivia added, shuffling over to her bed. She kneeled down, pulling out the old Valentine’s Day present. Quickly, she grabbed the envelope from the top and stuffed it into the back pocket of her jeans before she stood up, walking over to the ghost. “It’s a sweater,” she said as she held out the gift. “Red and grey stripes… You don’t have to open it right now.”

[perfectionturnednightmare]

Tate’s expression deadened at her response. He seemed to always lose the people he cared for most because of his past actions. Maybe it was better if he was alone in the end. No sense in getting tied up with people who would only turn away. “One day,” he repeated, before standing, and looking down on her. “Sure.” He couldn’t help the disappointment in his voice, as he looked away. “I should go.” 

Olivia stopped her motions, looking over to Tate - finally at his face, watching him stare at his hands. “It’s just a lot to put on one person,” she said after a moment, pressing her lips together. “… I could try, Tate. One day,” the witch added in a quiet voice, nodding her head. She hesitantly held out her hand, waiting to see if he would take it. “As your friend.”

[perfectionturnednightmare]

Tate’s eyes were glued to his fingers as she spoke. He honestly didn’t know what was enough to help him. Constance had believed Mr. Harmon would be able to help him and look what happened there. His shoulders slowly lifted into a shrug before dropping with the weight of defeat. “I want you to be.” 

Olivia paused at Tate’s response, letting out a faint sigh. “I see,” the witch murmured quietly, unable to look over to him. Blue eyes were glued to her hands, which were playing with a ring on her freckled finger. “It’s just…” She trailed off, chewing on her lip. “I’m happy to help you, Tate, but is my help enough for you to be better…?”

[perfectionturnednightmare]

Tate's expression turned pensive as he thought about her question. What had he done to make him a better person? He hadn't killed people since the one Halloween massacre...but she didn't need to know about that. He had been steering clear of anything or anyone that could have ended up with him causing bad stuff to happen, but when all was said and done he hadn't really done anything. "I've...been around you..."

@perfectionturnednightmare:

Tate’s eyes closed at the smallest touch Olivia had bestowed upon him. At least she didn’t hate him enough to tell him to just go away. That would have torn him apart just like when Violet had done it all those years ago. Her question confused him–momentarily causing his face to scrunch up to show it. “What do you mean?”

Olivia pressed her lips together, bowing her head down to her lap. She mindlessly twisted a ring on her finger, pausing in the motion at Tate’s question. “I mean, are you doing anything be a better person?” She asked, hesitantly looking over to the blonde for a second before to her bare feet. “Working on whatever is in you that makes you… do the things that you do.”

[perfectionturnednightmare]

Watching the brightness dull in Violet's only caused Tate to feel worse. "Wait, Vi...," the blonde started, one of his hands coming up as if to stay her. "I'm...I didn't mean it." Eyes dropping to the ground, he lips pressed to become a white line. He didn't want what he and Violet had gained to be lost in one moment--it was just hard to see her happy when he always seemed to be miserable.

Tate sat–his mind completely blank, but with eyes still stained from the earlier tears that had escaped during his conversation with Olivia. Everything had become so messed up in such a short amount of time that he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Hearing the familiar voice, the blonde looked over to see Violet sitting down. She seemed happy–which only served to make him bitter. “What did the dumbass do for you now? Draw a nice crayon picture?”